The Loving Silence

Chapter 18

The lock clicked and the slim, but heavy door dragged against the floor as it was pushed open. Behind it stood two large men and a blonde short haired woman. The woman looked older than the two, in her face, but somehow she felt younger. An actress maybe? Mica wasn't sure, but her face didn't seem to match the rest of her.

The men were equally tall, but one was lanky, almost thin enough to cause concern. He wore a navy beanie and a long black overcoat that drowned him completely. He wore it open and the slightly open shirt he wore underneath revealed his sharp, protruding clavicles and his Adam's apple that appeared to be doing its best to break through the skin.

The thin man rubbed his hands together and looked to be somewhere between entertained and excited, in more ways than one. His fingers were long and each knuckle and bone stood out. There was but the thinnest layer of skin to cover them and the backs of his hands were covered in raised cobalt blue veins, and they were making his skin look almost purple.

"Well, well, well, someone's been naughty."

The other man had corn yellow hair. It was thin and appeared to be longer than he was used to. It looked like straw as it hung there, neglected and ignored. His fingers kept flicking it away from his face and back it came. His eyes were pale blue, and Mica found himself wondering if the man was blind. He has never before seen such light eyes on someone who could see through them.

Blind or no, in complete contrast to the other man, this one looked strong. Even with the sweater he was wearing, his muscles strained against their knit confinement. In certain places, the fabric was so strained that his pale skin underneath were beginning to shine through the fibers.

"Ah, you're up. Wonderful!" A slippery, velvety smooth voice cheered as he clapped his hands together. The voice belonged to the thin man.

Upon hearing his voice, Mica had focused on him for too long and had missed the other one stepping closer to Rue.

"Strong stuff," he mused as he effortlessly lifted Rue's chair and Rue up from the floor. Rue cried out loudly as the extent of his injuries became painfully known to him.

The man ignored the injuries and the young man's cries. Instead, he stared at his face. "Can't believe this is the same kid." He mumbled to himself.

"He looks like her." The other one responded in a low voice while slightly wetting his lips.

"Stop. We're not here for that. We will finish the job and that is it."

"What? Just a clean kill? After all this time, you're just going to end it like that?"

"Fine..."

"I know what we could do..." The thin man sing-songed.

He him a look that could kill. Lesser men would've lost control of their bladder. "Not that, Cole" he growled.

Cole grimaced slightly and waved his hands dismissively. "What do you take me for, Nass? Of course not that. But don't you think you ought to wake him up and tell him the truth? Nothing we could do or say to him would cause as much damage to his soul. He deserves to know before he dies.

And if that doesn't work..." he stroked his painted nails absentmindedly as he lost himself to his imagination. When he spoke again his face wore a menacing grin. "I have a few ideas, of course."

"Of course" Nass repeated mockingly in the same tone, unwilling to admit that Cole always made him unsettled when he smiled like that. More than Nass did, more than anyone Nass'd ever known, Cole got off on making others suffer. Calling him a mere sadist would not be enough. He lived for this stuff. Cole could laugh like a carefree toddler while scalping a man with a butterknife.