"You here to throw me off the balcony?" I finally break the silence and a bit of tension with it. He chuckles, walking up to the railing next to me. I look at him and he shakes his head, looking down as well.
"Keep staring at me and I might," he bre...
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"Where is he?" I walk in the room, the sound of my heels echoing through the empty warehouse. A jacket over my shoulder, a gun tucked in my waistband and a knife strapped on my thigh, I came prepared.
I'm sick and tired of their games. This shit ends right here and right now.
Antonio and Mario drag a squealing pig in the room, a bag over his head, hands tied tightly behind his back, so the bastard can't do shit.
Well it's not actually a pig, but you know, same thing.
Mario grabs a chair and places the man in front of it, as he and Antonio walk to the wall, waiting for my command. Stepping forward, I make my way towards the guy. Kicking him in the chest, so he sits down, I earn a scared yelp from his ball gagged mouth. Throwing the jacket on the floor next to me, I know it would only be a nuisance.
The ball gag always makes me chuckle. It's something I'll never get used to - I feel like a dominatrix.
I nod my head towards Antonio, his cue to walk towards the guy. He snatches the bag off of his head, meeting the pig's scared eyes, making me smirk.
I tap my lip, letting Mario know to get rid of the ball gag. He walks up to the man, pressing a knife to his face and cutting the ball gag off. When it falls down, some blood starts pouring out of the new cut on the man's cheek.
As he opens his mouth to scream, I take my knife out, pressing the sharp end of it to his throat. "You squeal once and I will cut your throat open, take your larynx out and cut your tongue off, so you won't be able to make a sound ever again in your life. Do I make myself clear?"
He quickly closes his mouth, swallowing and nodding.
"Good boy," I change my tone into a sarcastically happy, yet scary one, patting him on the head.
Removing the knife off his throat, I stand up straight, looking at him in the eyes. He's so scared of me. As he should. Seeing that I caused fear really lifts my ego.
"So...let's get straight to the point. Who do you work for?" I put the knife back in the strap, wrapped around my thigh. Waiting for his answer, I walk around his chair, as my heels echo through the room, running my fingertips on his shoulders.
"No one...y-you got the wrong guy," he stutters, lying straight through his teeth.
