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Regardless, he came back to my club after I told him to leave.
That’s reason enough to teach him a permanent lesson.
“Rurik, I’m going to need you to go get one of the pipes that are laying on the floor over there,” I say casually.
Elliot’s angry bewilderment melts into sheer panic as he realizes what’s about to happen. “Fuck man, come on. If you just let me go, I’ll never say anything, and I’ll leave Delilah alone forever. You can have her. She’s yours!” he pleads, trying and failing to hold back the hysteria in his voice. He wants to be a hero so badly, but he’s begging for his life in exchange for his ex-girlfriend.
But she already belongs to me. He has nothing to left bargain with.
Rurik finds the lead pipe in the corner with little issue, and he brings it over with a completely neutral expression. “This the one you had in mind?” he asks, showing me the pipe.
“Yeah, it’s all the same if you swing hard enough,” I reply, staring at Elliot like he’s a broken appliance and not a person who is going to be buried in the desert within ten hours.
“Anything you want to say?” I ask Elliot.
“Yeah, fuck you and fuck Delilah. You deserve each other, fucking bitch,” Elliot spits, feeling one last lightning bolt of rage before he concedes to being completely, mortally terrified.
Rurik glances at me, waiting for a signal, and I nod towards Elliot. Rurik swings the pipe towards Elliot’s knees, and he screams loud enough to burst an eardrum before the metal even connects with his legs.
Once Rurik smashes both his knees, Elliot is completely reduced to shrieking and crying. His body slumps down, adding weight to his shoulders where his wrists are chained to the pipe on the wall.
Rurik pulls the pipe back to swing again.
“No, not again, please! I’m sorry,” Elliot wails, tears streaming down his face.
We both watch him for a minute, and part of me tries as hard as it can to empathize with him, even on a human level.
How can I not respond to his suffering?
Perhaps more importantly, how can I derivejoyfrom it?
Why would I feel so fulfilled by hurting someone who wronged Delilah when I barely know her? It’s one of the rare moments when I begin to worry for myself, for whatever shred of humanity is left in me.
I nod at Rurik again, and Elliot begins screaming before Rurik has even swung. “You’re both going to burn in hell, you fucking cocksuckers,” he shouts.
Rurik swings at him again, much harder this time. I think he’s tired of the noise.
“Aren’t you worried that someone’s going to hear him screaming?” Rurik asks, coming closer to me in order to speak over Elliot’s howling.
“It’s peak business hours. Nobody up there can even hear themselves think,” I say, assuring him as he prepares to swing once again, this time at Elliot’s head.
With nothing else left to do than scream eternal hellfire at us, Elliot shoots daggers at me with his dull grey eyes as tears stream down his face.
Rurik swings the pipe at his head, and he immediately stops screaming.
The sound of the music pulsing through the club upstairs sounds somewhat eerie as Elliot’s screams vibrate and echo throughout my brain. I swear, I’ll be hearing him scream in my sleep tonight.
“Make sure he’s out of here before Agave closes,” I say, observing the gruesome scene one last time before I go back upstairs to rejoin the world of the living.
7
Delilah
The air outside the club is so quiet and still that I feel as though I’ve stepped into another dimension. It’s easy to forget that people exist at all when it’s this silent, but I’m soon reminded that I’m not the only person left on this godforsaken planet when I spot a man I recognize.
He talked to Akim at some point. I remember that much, but Akim didn’t look particularly thrilled to be around him. At this point, I’m equally suspicious and curious about what his relation is to Akim. He’s more than just another clubgoer.
But a woman walking to her car at night shouldn’t be approaching strangers, and I attempt to maneuver around him.
