Once again he cried out in agony.
He was tied to a chair in the middle of an empty industrial building so big it seemed like his screams never faded. He couldn't separate them as they just layered on top of each other and created a heavy cloud of noise.
"I have told you everything I know" he screamed with what seemed like all the power he had left in his lungs. It wasn't strong enough, but it made the pain stop for a moment.
It took him a few seconds to restore a somewhat blurry vision.
He saw a big mass of black in front of him, creating a man. He was the source of the pain, but it wasn't his attention he was seeking.
He knew he was there, the other one. He couldn't see him, but he felt it. The one in charge was paying close attention.
He fed from these thing.
From somewhere in the room a hand was waved, and the big man in front of him started walking slowly in his prisoners direction again, knuckles bloody.
The prisoner knew had to make it out of this alive, somehow.
"Look, I have three kids" he cried. "I'll do anything!"
The man in front of him let out a laugh. Then he lowered his body and looked straight into the eyes of the man in the chair.
"They are up next" he said with a smile.
In the chair, an empty soul struggled for a few minutes before the little life he had left was drained.
The one watching from far away had already left.
He'd always found a form of beauty in these things. But when a person reaches the point where all they can do is desperate begging, they are already gone.
Really, he pities them, the weak people.
And he enjoys a good fight.
And of course, the feeling of holding someone's life in his hand.
Then crushing it.
