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“Let me leave.” I look at her and she freezes. She is gawking at my hand. My right hand. The one in which I’m holding a power drill that I just took out of the bag.
“Please. Please. Please.” I can hear the panic and spasm in her voice.
Chapter Twenty-Two
ELLA
“Please, Tommaso–” I yell. I can hear myself panting.
“Let go of me, please!” I try to push Francesco, who is now pinning me down to a chair, forcing me to watch what is happening. I hear the piercing sound of the power drill as it starts, and look at the face of the guy tied in the chair.
He doesn’t even flinch. Tommaso brings the power drill up to his face and the guy doesn’t move a damn muscle. What is he doing?
“Tommaso. Let me go!!” I cry out. I don’t want to see what’s coming next. I know. And I don’t want to see. He turns the drill off and the only sound filling the room is my ragged breathing. Tommaso inches closer to the man and grips him by his jaw.
“Something you want to tell me?” he asks the man. Silence. The man just gives a strange, creepy smile. I fidget but Francesco grunts and pushes me down.
“That’s what I thought.” Tommaso points the drill to the man’s throat. No. no. no.
“You will have a lot to say after this.” He drags the drill down to the man’s left knee. I hear the man’s scream before mine, this time. I cup my ears with my hands. I see nothing except Tommaso’s back at first. And then the screaming stops and Tommaso moves aside. I notice the pool of blood at his feet. I look at the man in the chair. Why is he not moving? I suddenly notice where the blood is coming from. His knee.
The blood is gushing out from a big hole in his knee. There are bits of flesh sticking out of the restrained knee and blood pooling at his feet. The drill starts again.
“FUUCKK!” the man screams. Tommaso asks him something but the man doesn’t answer, just keeps screaming in agonizing pain. Their voices are muffled under the sound of the drill. Tommaso throws a heavy punch at the man’s jaw, and he goes limp for a minute.
Tommaso questions him again but the guy spits blood on his face, “FUCK YOU!”
Tommaso points the drill to his other knee and starts to push through. The cracking of the bone is much louder this time.
“Stop. Stop. Stop.” I scream at the top of my lungs. “St–” I feel dizzy and my voice gets stuck in my throat. The air feels thick and suffocating. The drill has stopped and I notice the blood flowing out of the man’s other knee. I look at his feet. There are white bits of his shattered knee cap in the dark red pool of blood. I feel my stomach churn at the sight and hear myself gag.
Francesco slips a bucket in front of me and I throw up inexorably. I feel my body getting numb. I no longer have the energy to push Francesco’s sturdy hands off of me. The man in the chair has stopped screaming and is squealing in pain now. My focus becomes fragmented, shifting in and out. I can hardly make sense of it all now. I look at Tommaso’s hulking figure over the man.
He wipes the spray of blood on his face with his cuff. I can see his biceps bulging at the seams of his shirt. He is holding the power drill, blood dripping from its drill bit. I can smell it. The warm blood collecting on the floor. I can smell the reek. Sour and rusty. I gag again but my head falls to a side. I feel myself zoning out.
“Where is she?” I hear Tommaso’s voice again. Louder, this time. I force my head up. The man is not moving. Is he dead? Oh my god.
“Where is the woman?” Tommaso hollers. Silence again. My eyes start to close against my will. There is no sound for a while.
“Where is she!?” I force my eyes open. Tommaso’s talking to the man. About a woman. About a woman? Who? I let my head fall back again. Unsettling silence. Until, there is that sound again. The jarring buzz of the drill starting.
“No. no. no. no.” I try to scream but my words come out as whimpers.
“WAIT! STOP-STOP!” the man shrieks as Tommaso lowers the drill into his chest. I cup my ears again.
“I’LL TELL YOU! STOPPP!” The drill stops immediately. I don’t even want to look up.
“I’ll tell you where she is!”
“Spit it out. NOW!” Tommaso is holding the drill where it stopped. In the man’s rib-cage.
“In… the basement. Greystone Brewery.” The man is gargling on his own blood.
“Francesco, now. Get the woman and take her to safety,” Tommaso commands. He looks at me and I look away.
“Take Ella outside.” He nods at Francesco and turns away. Francesco gives me a towel, and a chair to sit on outside the room and leaves. There is complete silence. No sound of the power drill. No sound of the man screaming. No sound of Tommaso talking. I regain hold of myself and wipe my sweaty face. Tommaso emerges from inside a few seconds later.
“Did you kill him?” The words escape my mouth as soon as I see him. He wipes his hands with a cloth. Wiping the blood of a human he just tortured so brutally.
