Mature Content 17+ || Savage Wolves MC Book Three
Talia's been through hell and back. After suffering at the hands of Dmitri Petrov and his band of goons, she was left broken and ruined.
But, she isn't going to let that stop her from being the woman...
*TW. I lied about this chapter being intense. Just more setup. I didn't realize how much I'd write about this specific topic! Next chapter will be full of torture though, be warned.*
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•Ryder•
Seeing Talia like this shouldn't make me feel as proud as it does. I should be worried, disturbed even, by how natural this all comes to her. I should be concerned about her mental state. I shouldn't let her do this.
But she's proven herself capable. She's proven she can handle everything that's going on in this room. She's too strong to let this knock her down.
Vince is completely awake now, panicking like a wild animal caught in a trap. He pisses himself, soiling his jeans even more than they already are. A wet spot soaks the thick flooring under his body. It'll be washed down the drain with the rest of their bodily fluids.
I pull the cart of tools in for Talia's use, trailing my fingertips over the seemingly innocent instruments. Instruments that can be construed as everyday use items: a hammer, nail gun, ice pick, razor blade. Items that are used for the most mundane of tasks, but when wielded by the right—or is it wrong?—hands, they quickly turn into something much darker. Much more sinister than boring, everyday items.
A hammer can be used to bash in smaller bones. A nail gun can be used to create puncture wounds incredibly painful but without causing the person to bleed out. An ice pick can be used in a variety of ways, my favorite being to jam it into the brain stem, severing all connection to the rest of your body. Razor blades...now those can be fun. Depending on the size, they can flay skin from the human body, cause cuts that burn from their precise line. Blade's personal favorite.
A variety of other tools lay untouched on the tray, including true torture devices. Talon has a fondness for historical devices and has amassed quite the collection over the years.
Talia doesn't go for anything just yet, choosing to stand to the side while she waits for the other two to completely wake up. Matt is stirring, his head lifting and then dropping with exhaustion as he struggles to regain consciousness. Paul is still out of it, but I can bring him up to speed.
I take the smelling salts from a drawer inside of the table I moved into the room, cracking the packet and running it under Paul's flaring nostrils.
He instantly shoots back, slamming his back and head against the wall, eyes widening and taking in his surroundings as he's brought to consciousness faster than the other two.
"The fuck is going on?!" He demands, breathing heavily. Tears are staining his cheeks as he can't help but let them fall from his eyes in fear.
Paul flicks his gaze between me and his friends that are chained to the wall at his side. "Hey man, look, I don't know what kind of freaky shit you're into, but if you don't let us go, I'm going to fucking kill you!" He spits at my feet and I look down.
