Undercover Vengeance and Hidden Lies

part 51

*At Gray's Mansion*

Matthew’s mansion was eerily quiet, the weight of recent events hanging heavy in the air. He directly went towards his basement. He was in rage.

*at basement*

⚠️MATURE CONTENT AHEAD SKIP IF YOU'RE UNCOMFORTABLE⚠️

In a dimly lit, cold basement, the walls were lined with sinister instruments and the remnants of past torment. At the center of the room, the victim "Andrew" who was strapped to a chair, his face cold and lips having a mockery smile with no terror. Matthew, whose eyes were red and swollen from crying, approached with a grim determination and a trembling hand.

Matthew: You took everything from me.

Matthew said, his voice thick with emotion.

Matthew: My love. My family. You made me watch them die. And now, it’s your turn to pay.

Andrew: Come on then.

Andrew taunted, his voice dripping with contempt.

Andrew: Is that all you’ve got? I’m not afraid of you.

Matthew: I promised them I’d make you pay  *he continued, his voice breaking*  Every last bit of pain you caused, I’ll make sure you feel it tenfold.

Andrew laughed, a harsh sound that reverberated off the cold walls. Andrew's eyes darted around the room, mock evident in his voice.

Andrew: You think you can scare me with your pathetic little toys? It was a mistake anyway......Fine, I'm sorry okay?

He laughed again, mocking Matthew more. His tone was not even near to guilt.

Matthew's face twisted with a mix of sorrow and anger. He picked up a serrated knife and held it up, letting Andrew see its jagged edge.

Matthew: A mistake?  *he said, his voice breaking*  You think that taking their lives was a mistake? You think that saying ‘sorry’ will fix what you’ve done?

With a deliberate, slow motion, he brought the knife down, slicing across Andrew's arm. Andrew’s laughter turned to a guttural scream as the blade cut through flesh, the sound echoing off the cold walls.

Andrew: Ah! PLEASE, STOP! I’M BEGGING YOU! I'M SORRY!

Matthew: Do you feel that?  *he asked, his voice a strained whisper*  That’s for my love. For the life you took from me.

Matthew continued, pressing the blade deeper, each cut precise and methodical.

Matthew: Sorry isn’t enough  *he said, tears streaming down his face*  Sorry doesn’t bring them back. Sorry doesn’t erase the pain. You will feel every ounce of suffering they felt, AND MORE.

Andrew's screams grew more frantic.

Andrew: NO, PLEASE! I'LL DO ANYTHING! JUST STOP!

Matthew left the knife skewered in his arm, the handle protruding like a grim trophy. Ignoring the pleas, Matthew then moved to his pants, attempting to remove it.

Andrew: WHAT THE FUCK YOU DOING?

Andrew wriggled and twisted in the chair, desperately trying to shake Matthew’s hand off his pants.

Whereas Matthew, Whithout replying, unzipped Andrew's pants and pulled it down along with his underwear with a rough yank. Just far enough to reveal his exposed crotch.

Then moved to a heated iron rod, its red-hot surface radiating a sickening glow. With a grim determination, he pressed the rod against Andrew's crotch, searing it with agonizing heat. The smell of burning flesh filled the air, mixing with Andrew's choked-back sobs.