The Spawn of Lucifer

22

A sinister look gleams in his eyes, one I knew all too well. “I have no idea, Aran. All we know, she could be dead.” He says, blowing out a cloud of smoke.

I try to contain the anger brewing inside of me, itching to be let out and consume the bastard across from me like a fire. “Don’t you dare play this pathetic game with me, Salvatore.” I rise to my feet, my eyes glaring daggers at him. He visibly squirms but conceals his discomfort, smoking his cigarette in silence, awaiting my next words. I continue, “I will find her even if I have to burn your whole organization to the ground myself and when I do, I’m going to rip your heart out.”

“Your threats are weak and pointless, Aran. You don’t scare me.” He builds up a false bravado, trying to sway me with his words, testing me to see any sign of weakness, eyes scouring my face for something he will never mind.

“You said it yourself, Salvatore. Don’t make the mistake of underestimating me. There’s a reason why I’m called the devil,” I say to him with a sneer. “and I always live up to that name.”

*******

“Where is he?” I demand, the moment I walked into the underground dungeon accompanied by a few soldiers.

“Chained to the wall in the last cell.” Wayne replies, leading me past several cells where a couple of prisoners are kept, all of them beaten up and tortured to the point of death, till we get to the last cell.

And there he was. Carlos Rodriguez. The man who had the guts to steal from me. Chained to the wall like an animal, stripped of any piece of clothing he had, beaten to the point he couldn’t stand because his legs were broken. An eyeball was missing and his dick had been caught off.

Wonderful.

I stretch out both my arms and Wayne comes forward, taking off my blazer and taking it further away from the bloody scene so it doesn’t get stained.

He slowly raises his head upon hearing my footsteps approaching him. When his single eye connects with the raging storm brewing in mine, he goes limp, swollen lips trembling and quiet pleas for mercy falling off them, irritating my eardrums.

I had just gotten back from my meeting with Salvatore and needed to stop by here to calm the fuck down. The anger I had tried to contain earlier had surfaced with the need to be let out this time and I couldn’t deny it. I stop right in front of him, satisfied to see him trembling before me and struggling to get free of the chains that bound him to the wall.

“How do they say it in your native tongue? Me traicionaste.” I speak, my voice dripping with venom with every word that slip out of my mouth.
[You betrayed me].

“I–I’m s–sorry, sir. I didn’t….mean to.” He pleads, already on the verge of tears. “Please —” His words gets cut off by a punch to his bloody face.

I crack my knuckles and flash him a death glare. “I’m just going to make this quick. I don’t have the time to spare for your useless pathetic cries.” I stretch forth a hand and without having to say anything, one of my men hands me a knife and I grip it hard. “You know me very well, Carlos. The thing I loathe the most in this world other than people and well….my ex-wife….is betrayal. And you betrayed me. You fucking stole from me and think I will just let it slide? You’re a complete idiot, Rodriguez.” I turn around to face the rest of my men who shivered in fear at the mere sight of me. “Now let this be a lesson to you all, If you ever and I mean ever try to betray me or pull this foolish stunt, no matter where you hide or run to, I will find you and end you with my bare hands.”

“Sir….please, I—”

I turn my attention back to the piece of scum and drag the knife down his chest to create a big gash, blood spilling out of it rapidly as I stop right at the edge of his stomach. I withdraw the knife and dipped my hand into him. The wound is quite deep so my hand was able to slip into him easily.