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I advanced on him and squatted down. They held his first foot still for me and I held up the small sharp pin for him to admire, twirling it between two fingers.
“There’s a misconception about these babies. You see something handy, used in everyday life, probably for basic things, but the smallest items can cause the most pain.” He tried to kick his foot at me to no avail. He was trapped. I took great pleasure in inserting the small pin underneath the nail straight into the nailbed, on his big toe. With a smirk on my face, I carried on until every single toe had its accessory and he squealed in agony. Naturally, I turned to the other foot and matched them up.
I stood up and stepped back to appreciate my work. I was entirely in the zone, and craved to do more.More damage, more destruction. Adam was finding it difficult to balance on the tips of his toes with pins sticking out of them.
I spared a glance at Milla, wanting to check on her because she wasn’t used to being around this sort of thing. A part of me worried that it’d make her feel sick, which was to be expected, but also that it would make her fearful of this part of me. A part which, even for her, I refused to give up. I had to wrap myself in my chaotic tendencies to keep that edge off. But as I looked at her, she didn’t look like any of those things, and I guessed it confirmed to me that she needed to be here.
“Your voice is irritating me, let’s give you something worthwhile to choke on,” Hollis stated, grabbing pliers from the table.
Preston and I took point and held his mouth wide open. The corner of his mouth split nicely with the pressure as Hollis dug into the back of his mouth. Adam coughed and nearly choked as Hollis tugged and wiggled, spending an age jerking around. The crunching noises would forever be etched onto my memory as well as his gargled protests as a molar was removed from the bottom, and another over the other side.
Hollis released the hold, the pliers letting each tooth ping across the floor and he went back, yanking his two front teeth out. A unified chuckle echoed round the room. Damn, he didn’t look so pretty anymore. A flow of blood poured from his mouth and he shook his head and rubbed his mouth against his hanging arms, trying to find a small measure of comfort.
“Remind me to tip my dentist next time I visit. Hard work this,” Hollis commented blandly. Milla choked a disbelieving laugh.
Preston strolled off, coming back a few seconds later with his tool of choice. A blowtorch. Interesting. I titled my head and observed him wondering what he’d inflict.
He swaggered over to him, pressing the latch as the flame hissed out. A sinister look overtook his usual cheerful face as he pushed it nearer his face. But the look on Adam’s face—priceless.
This was the side of Preston you needed to be cautious of. I just hoped that with Milla in the room, it would anchor him a little bit.
“I’ll leave your eyes and ears alone. I want you to see, feel, and heareverything. For now,” he taunted.
He proceeded to press the latch once more, hovering the heated flame all over his stomach and chest, his top melting into his skin as his cries and pleas bled into the room where nobody would offer him mercy. I bet his victims pleaded and were ignored. The nauseating smell of burnt flesh penetrated the room, and I caught Milla slapping a palm over her nose and mouth to block it. Dorian helpfully whacked the ventilation up full notch and it whirled, taking the worst of the stench away.
“We don’t want him to die before we kill him,” Preston stated, retreating. He placed the blowtorch on the other side of the room.
“It would be a terrible shame,” Ronnie retorted dryly from where he leaned against the wall. I chuckled.
Between every single Beta team member in the room plus my dad and Dorian, we’d memorised each victim of his. Stupidly on their part, every dark deed done to a victim was recorded in their personal file, with how their buyer wanted them trained or broken in. So many depraved specifics, every bit of information on how to shut them down to a shell of themselves, how to make them comply, how they responded to methods; sexually, emotionally, physically. It was immoral and despicable to see the noted versions of hundreds of victims. Not all from Adam, but a huge chunk fell prey to him.
“Strip him,” I ordered, my tone brokering no arguments. Did I want to see him naked? Fuck no. Was it a necessary evil? Definitely.
Drew strode over, and from the psychotic smile on his face took great pleasure in ripping the clothing from his skin, especially the parts attached to his flesh. Then he cut away the rest amid Adam’s wails of agony.
“Mara, a thirteen-year-old child—whipped so heartlessly with Cat-o'-nine-tails that the scars on her back will never fully heal.” The pictures I’d seen of the criss-cross patterned wounds on her back… I had no words.
I wasn’t even going to mention the sexual abuse about any of these victims, as it made me want to hurl. This was justice for them too.
I strolled to his back and his eyes followed me. I picked up the Cat-o’-nine-tails that we’d gotten hold of, and with all my strength landed hit after hit on every part of his back, working my way down over his ass and the backs of his legs without restraint. I threw the tool to the side sometime later.
“Connor, a seventeen-year-old boy. Waterboarded to a point where he can’t even endure the basic human need of a shower unless he mentally checks out,” I spoke.
Hollis, Preston, and Drew took the floor. They pulled out everything they needed and released him from the hook, promptly strapping him with heavy bindings onto a chair and tipped him up.
And so it continued. Minutes extended into what seemed like hours until we’d made our way through every single person listed that he targeted, and every Owl in the room had dealt their hand.
Adam had been burned, whipped, slashed and stabbed, branded, injected with a combination of drugs, and had bones broken.
He was still breathing, barely. He looked nothing like his former self and that gave me some sick satisfaction. Imagine trying to recover from what we’d inflicted and live with all that physical damage. That was probably a worse fate, yet not one we were willing to let play out.
“I believe we’re about finished here,” Dorian commented.
I agreed, I was done. I think we all were.
These last few hours could never be classed as wasted; I’d thoroughly revelled in the madness created with all the team present. But it was time.
“Hollis,” I declared, sharing a look with Preston to which we were in agreement. We’d allow him to end it, he was our leader, our brother.
