29. Paint the town red

16.9K 1.2K 209
                                    

♡Arhaan's pov♡

Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.

♡Arhaan's pov♡

I continued to sip on my whiskey as he choked to death.

It was bitter- both the whiskey and the look on his face.

A tail of crimson was dripping from my knuckles, but I feel nothing.

There is an eerie silence around us except from the grunting, anxious breathing noises coming from the motherfucker laying in front of me.

The room I choose for him is perfect, rusted with torture equipment and ominous tools which hangs from the wall, I'm going to torture him with every torture device he can think of But I'll use none the moment he breaths his last air.

I want to kill him with my bare hands, to feel how his life ends, how his soul leaves his body beneath my fingers.

A barely illuminated light hangs from the ceiling, enough for me to see the expressions on his face.

He is still unconscious because of all the punches.

I swiftly stand from my crouching position walking slowly towards him, cracking up my knuckles.

Taking a last blow of my cigarette, I press the bud on his cheek. The burn leaves a faint trail mark on his face making him to wake up with a jolt.

I lunge forward, delivering a fast jab towards his chest, knocking down my dear dear uncle before he could even properly wake up.

His whole face is swollen and bruised. A deep cut slicing across his face, the one I gave him with one of my knife. A blunt one.

Blood spruts out of his mouth, dripping down his chin.

I slap his face with back of my hand, trying to wake his pathetic ass up.

"Wake up, man. We haven't even started."
His eyes slowly flutters open, His eyes burns with anger, tears of pain glistening them.

But they soon changes into something similar to arrogance.

He is grinning, his eyes glinting with a sadistic pleasure.

This fucker had no guilt, remorse of what he did.

Not for long though, soon he will be begging that I rather kill him because of the torture I'm about to do on him.

"o-oh, I still remember your little wife's screams begging me to stop, what a sweet little thing she is."

A memory of Inayah screaming flashes in front of my eyes.

I close my trying to block it out, but it's just too powerful.

Flashback: 5 hours ago

I gentle raise Inayah's head, placing it on a pillow. Tucking her with a blanket I get out of the room.

I need to find out what the fuck happened in my absence. I walk into the room filled with a multitude of cctv monitors footages.

 Crushed Chimere Where stories live. Discover now