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The man sneers at me when he sees us walk in. The door shuts with a slam and nothing that happens in here can be heard outside of these walls.
He can scream and scream, but he will never be heard. He will not be leaving this room alive either.
This room is going to be the place where he takes his last breath. I want my face to be the very last thing that he sees before he goes to hell.
“Well, you’re not so tough now, are you? You have me tied up, not able to defend myself.” He tries to play it off like he is big and bad, but there is no mistaking the urine running down the front of his pants.
“What is your name?” I ask him and he shuts his mouth tight, refusing to answer.
I grin at that. “That was the answer I was looking for,” I chuckle darkly. It has been a hot minute since I’ve been in this torture room and been able to lay my hands on someone to make them talk.
His face shows his confusion, but I go to the wall and push the button that flips down, revealing the tools we use for times like this.
It literally has everything one could imagine, right down to tweezers. This is Gage’s pride and joy; he’s got his own tools labeled to make sure we don’t fuck with his.
But what I’m looking for is the butcher knife.
I pull it down from the wall; it’s wicked sharp and something we don’t normally use but since this fucker loves this so much, it’s only fair, right?
I run my hand along the blade with his eyes on the knife and he is much paler than when I first turned around.
As I get closer, I spot something almost falling out of his pocket. I reach and grab his wallet. “Well, I guess this might have your name in it?”
He starts fighting the restraints, but they’re unbreakable. We have had a hundred people in this basement before and no one has escaped yet.
Gage actually had prison cells put in a year ago in case we decided to keep them for a longer period of time.
I open his wallet and take out his ID. I almost drop that fucker on the floor because I know exactly who he is.
The last name is the same as someone else who wants her. “Well, I guess we know the motive. It seems you and Seth have the same last name. Arnold, what did he promise you when you agreed to do this?”
Arnold looks like he is going to shit his pants.
Fine then. I love when they don’t talk.
Taking the knife, I grip the front of his shirt tearing it from his body. “Can someone get me a pair of pliers?”
Andrey smirks and walks to the wall grabbing a pair. I grip Arnold’s nipple between the pliers and pull hard until there’s room for the knife to slice through, cutting it off.
Arnold is screaming at the top of his lungs, but the sound doesn’t even register to me. His pain, his terror feeds my fucking soul.
“Not so fucking tough now, are you? Trying to hurt a woman who is pregnant,” Royal growls at him. We don’t tolerate any abuse to a woman but when it’s one of ours, and she is pregnant?
There is no going back from that.
I do the other nipple the same way, slowly cutting this one off, dragging it out. I fling it, hitting him in the center of his forehead. It rolls down his face onto his lap.
He still doesn’t speak.
Taking the knife, I lean over and grip his cheeks in between my fingers. Slowly I slice off strips of skin, like I’m carving a turkey.
He is screaming, twisting and turning trying to dislodge me, but I pull the skin free and throw it in his lap like I did the nipple.
Blood is flowing freely down his face, down the doctor’s coat that he stole. He is weak and it won’t take much longer before he is spewing his guts.
Andrey walks over with a hot knife that he has been heating up. I take the hot blade and press it over the cut on his face to stop the bleeding.
He is shaking, eyes rolling back in his head from the pain, but he doesn’t pass out. I take the blade off just before that happens because he doesn’t deserve a reprieve.
