As He crouched over his victim's shivering body, sweat raced it's way down his chin and fell onto the cold pavement. Torn and purpled from his assault; his victim lay cowering.
"Whhy me.." the victim quivered.
"Mister, there's no answer to that" He chuckled, turning and walking towards the worktable. It held a plethora of torture devices- all laid out in neat rows. There was a slight smell lingering above the tools, one very much similar to death. Or so he thought.
His fingers played across the instruments, not knowing which they might land upon.
"This should suffice" His hand wrapped around a small bottle containing a murky looking liquid. Some distant emotion flashed across his face as he turned and walked back to the victim. The liquid was one of his own concoctions, specially designed to stimulate gut-wrenching pain with only a few drops. There'd hardly even be a burn mark. His grip tightened on the glass bottle, this was what he enjoyed most.
Neatly folding himself on the pavement, he pulled the sobbing victim into his lap. He was not comfortable , being smaller than the average male had its downsides, but the position allowed him to stare directly into the eyes of the battered man. Balancing the small bottle on the victims chest, a smile nearly betrayed itself as the begging began.
"W-what is that? I don't want to die here! I-I'll give you whatever you want man!" the victim whispered, eyes staring wildly at the bottle. The uneven breathes of the victim nearly tipping it over.
"Would it please you to die somewhere else? Murder is murder, never mind the location" He laughed knowing that the truth of his words would not help the panic rising in the victim. It was always the same, in the end...no victim is any different than the other. They all beg.
"Say something pleasant , and I can assure you a painless end" He held the bottle over the victim's head, it swayed slightly, his eagerness affecting the movement.
"You're a great mur-" As the victim formed his mouth around the word, He poured the liquid into the open gap. Chocking would be the death of this unlucky soul. The victim's eyes bulged as the liquid seemed to harden in his throat, stealing his breath. Swiftly sitting up ,forgetting the horrendous injuries that tattered his body, the victim clawed at his own throat in a hopeless attempt of freeing himself of the painful creation within him.
Smiling in earnest, He stood and watched as His victim lay switching on the floor. Life was leaving the eyes of the man with a mouth full of black chalk. That's another trick to His creation, once coming in contact with saliva it quickly hardened into a chalk-like substance. He was quite pleased with his handiwork.
" My apologies, I'm also quite the liar it seems" He chuckled over his shoulder, he'd leave the mess here for some poor sop to find in the alleyway.
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Short StoryAs he crouched over his victim's shivering body, tears raced their way down his chin and fell onto the cold pavement. Torn and purpled from his assult; his victim lay cowering. "Whhy me.." the victim quivered. "Mister, there's no answer to that" He...
