Ice Thug

Capitolo Sei

As the door to the room swings open, a new world unfolds before me. It's unlike anything I've ever encountered on the surface. Firstly, it's not just a room. The flickering lights reveal a hallway, but it descends rather than stretches horizontally.

No stairs guide the descent; the further I look, the smaller the end of the hallway appears. A peculiar detail catches my attention—the walls gradually lose quality as they extend. Starting with the same glossy white finish as the main house, they deteriorate consistently until reaching the other door, where the outline of foundational bricks becomes visible.

"Ever been here, Principessa?" Trey asks me, turning the handle of the other door.

"This is the furthest I have gone," I reply truthfully.

Angelo smirks, shaking his blonde curls. "It's not too late to turn back, baby doll."

"Shut up, Angie," I retort in our usual bickering manner, my voice trembling. Even Trey chuckles.

As the doors open, their creaks sound unnaturally surreal, as if deliberately constructed to enhance the eerie atmosphere of the stone age-like room unfolding before us.

The only fitting description is that it's bare but in a chilling way. Even my breaths echo if they're a tad too loud. We all stand in silent darkness for a while until my eyes begin to adjust.

Then, the lights come on.

I would have screamed if I weren't on a mission to be the most formidable woman the Mafia had ever produced. In the middle of the room, the five captives lay strapped to their individual chairs, accompanied by the lifeless body of their friend on a chair, almost as if he were alive.

It's really, really creepy.

It would be a horrid sight for them when they all come to because it seems like all of them were given some form of anesthetic. The girl, I'm aware of, but not others.

"They were all drugged?" I just had to confirm my suspicion.

"It's so that none of them know the layout of the way to the cell if, for whatever reason, they get out." Trey responds coldly. He's not the Trey I have been in contact with for the past two weeks.

The Trey from two weeks ago wasn't too friendly, but at the same time, I tried to avoid him at all costs...just so that we wouldn't get into constant clashes. However, whenever we met, he somehow always spoke to me with respect and, dare I say, a level of warmth.

Now, there's none of that...at least, not from his reply. He seemed so distant saying that. It almost felt like it wasn't Trey talking. When I looked at his gaze towards our victims, it clicked.

This isn't Trey. This is the Ice Thug.

***Graphic content ahead(triggering gore), read with caution or not at all***

I was about to witness the reason why everyone avoided Trey Lockheart as best as they could.

With the same mechanical lack of human feeling, he turns to Lapo, who stares with a somehow mirroring lifelessness from the corner of the room. "Water. The first one's waking up."

Lapo does as he's told, casually fetching a bottle of water from what looks like a cooler and tossing it at Trey, who catches it effortlessly. The exchange is soothing to watch, but at the same time, something doesn't feel quite right.

The air is just off its balance. I can feel it.

The first man croaks to life. He's the one I shot in the finger. Remembering the moment, I look at the hand inflicted by my bullet only to see that it has been cleaned. It's still a nasty wound, and he's definitely not going to be flipping anyone off with his left hand, but the area around the distorted flesh and missing bone is sanitary.