Tempting Sin

Sin Volkov

His least favorite toy was a gun. There is no joy in it. Just one pull and the victim is dead. The real fun lies in knives- the sharper, the better. The pleasure of plunging his blade into his victim's flesh and see crimson liquid spilling out is insanely addictive for him. He was a patient man. He reveled in the slow, torturous death he inflicted. Hearing his victim's cry for mercy as he meticulously sliced them inch by inch- the sheer pain, desperation in their voice excited vicious thrills in him, unleashing a sinister pleasure. Knives in his twisted mind, were the best torturing tools.

"Please, don't..don't kill me," the man whimpered, voice laced with desperation. Tears of terror mixed with blood rolled down his cheeks as he implored his tormenter to spare his life. Shaking uncontrollably, he resembled a leaf caught in a deadly storm. The dim glow emanating from a single bulb cast a haunting light over him, revealing the extent of his torment. His jaw hung limply, his lips trembling with each plea of mercy. Countless cuts marred his face, a gruesome masterpiece carved by his brutal persecutor.

"Don't worry. I won't kill you," A voice assured, commanding and powerful yet strangely alluring. The words vibrated with raw energy, rich in authority. The force of power this voice carried was so strong that it was impossible not to obey, as though the speaker had a mysterious hold over the listener. It was the kind of voice one followed blindly.

Thick blood dripped down the blade's edge as the speaker wiped it against the victim's torn shirt. He was obsessed with having his possessions unblemished and neat. After having it spotless, he raised it to the victim's left eye. The man's eyes turned wide in horror, bringing a sardonic smile to his assailant's lips.

"Until you beg me to," the tormenter concluded before ever so slowly driving the blade through his left eye, prolonging the man's suffering. The man screamed in agony, thrashing like a slaughtered animal but to no avail. He extended the same curtsey to his right eye. After that he poured acid in his hollow sockets, curious to see if it would come out of his nose or mouth. The victim had stopped struggling now. Only pathetic whimpers escaped his mouth as blood gushed out of his sockets in streams, painting his face crimson.

"Kill me. Just kill me," the man finally broke down and begged like he wanted.

The tormentor smirked. His footsteps thudded against the walls as he walked away to sit back down on his chair. A man standing beside his chair offered him a white napkin as soon as he sat down. The man took the knife and began wiping his knife all over again. It was his favorite knife so he never allowed anyone else to even touch it let alone take care of it for him. The man beside him got the instruction as he took out his gun and shot the victim through his chest.

He left the boring part for his men. The real fun is in inflicting tortures.

Sin got out of the dark ominous basement with his men trailing after him. He stood outside in the sun and breathed in the fresh air. Looking at his collected demeanor, no one could guess he had just put a life to an abrupt end. Just then a gentle breeze carried a vibrant, golden butterfly towards him. The carefree creature fluttered around him as though seeking his attention. Sin extended his hand towards it and the butterfly readily perched on his knuckle. Its wings were bright yellow like the sun. Intrigued, Sin stroked its wings, but his callous touch proved too harsh for the fragile being- its wings ripped apart, bringing its delicate life to an abrupt end. Sin wasn't fazed though. He had seen too many deaths to care. He nonchalantly dropped the lifeless insects to reach for a ciggeratte. He wasn't meant for beautiful, pure things. Right then, his white sleek car slowed to a halt before him.

Sin was obsessed with the color white. Everything he owned was in white. The walls of his room were white, his cars, accessories everything was white and he wore only white shirts. He had no tolerance for stains just like he had no mercy for enemies.