Meet Me At Midnight (18+)

Chapter 25-Tiago and Domenico

So, I know I promised blood and guts and gore for this chapter, but I thought about it during school and I decided that since I have a shit ton of homework, that I would spend my Friday night (tomorrow) giving you a very detailed torture scene also a semi steamy Nikoa and Elio scene.
You're welcome
SC🖤

She sat in the chair in front of them, filing her nails with the blade of her favorite dagger, the bubble of her peppermint gum popped, the noise revibrated off the walls, her foot tapped against the stone floor in calm impatience. This routine had been going on for two hours now. She could tell they were nervous. She could smell the fear of the four men in front of her. She observed the way their pupils moved back in forth from the floor to the wall to the blade and finally to her. The way their wrists rubbed together against the jumper cables tying them together. A stupid mistake one of them realized moments later when the spark of friction electrocuted them. The man was not dead, but he was hanging on by a thread.

The tangy smell of piss coated the air. Pathetic. One of them had wet themselves. She could keep up this game for hours, days, she could endure this silent torture for not only them, but herself for weeks if she had too. Part of her training was to go weeks without food. Weeks of being locked up, starved, tortured, shocked, shackled, deprived of resources to sustain life. She had gone through it all until finally she could make it three full weeks without food. The little glass of water Javier had mercifully gave her everyday was enough to keep her alive for three weeks. This was a simple task. One of them would break due to the suspense and anxiety soon.

She hadn't told anyone of what she learned, nor had she told anyone of her new methods of torture that were currently in trial. She had simply told everyone that if they set foot in the basement before she came out of it they would receive a bullet to balls, a bullet to the shin if she was feeling generous. Santino and Elio tried to put up a fight, but as soon as a deadly glare that seemed to say don't fuck with me was sent their way they backed off.

One of the men groaned in pain as he shifted his tightly bound ankles. She paid him no heed, instead she started humming Antonin Dvorak's overture 'New World.' She didn't know why she started humming it, but everytime she heard it the impression she got was of a warring battle. Whether it being a raging battle in one's mind or a raging battle over land; she always thought of death and destruction. It is said by Mr. Dvorak himself that the symphony was inspired by the rebirth of America and the wide open prairies as immigrants and settlers took over these lands. She always thought that was quite peculiar because "rebirth" was not the impression she got. However, she supposes she was always quite morbid. Perhaps she could broaden her mind and associate the expansion done by immigrants as the warring over land between the settlers and the Natives.

Her eyes scan the men once more through her lashes, checking for anything she could have missed. They had the cliche type of tattoos, the flag of Columbia, a serpent wrapped around a cross, the words death before dishonor in Spanish, and red lips on their neck. Two things in particular caught her interest. A name, on the electrocuted man's rib. This was perfect she thought. It was a man's name. Domenico. A brother, cousin, son, father, lover, perhaps. He was older, late fifties maybe. If she didn't act soon he would die before she had the chance to get a single thing out of him. His older age was definitely a disadvantage to be a soldier in the mafia. He had most likely joined when he was young. Another was the absence of the serpent around his cross tattoo.

"Domenico," She drawls. He musters up the strength to raise his slumped head ever so slightly. "That's a lovely name. I've always liked the name Dominic. That's what I would have named my kid if I planned on having any." Half truth. She always loved the name Dominic. She didn't want kids though.

"Is that your brother?" No reaction. "Cousin?" She presses. No reaction. "Lover, then?" A muscle in his jaw flexes and the dull green of his eyes smolders with a deep rooted pain.