𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐉𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐍𝐄𝐘 || 𝟏𝟖+

𝟐𝟓|| 𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐏 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐒𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐍 🌶

Warning ⚠️: Mention of Bloodshed.

AUTHOR'S POV:

The man hung upside down in the dark, dimly lit corridor, his body beaten and blood oozing from his wounds. His screams of agony echoed through the empty space, a chilling sound that sent shivers down the spine. Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows, a sinister smirk on his face as he lit up a cigar. He sat down in a chair, crossing his legs casually as he observed the helpless man before him. The flickering light from the cigar illuminated his face, revealing a cold and calculating expression. The man's eyes gleamed with malice as he took a long drag, the smoke curling around him like a sinister shroud. The tied-up man's heart pounded in fear as he realized he was at the mercy of a sadistic tormentor, trapped in a nightmare from which there seemed to be no escape.

"Will you let that fucking mouth open, or should I let it open my way?" he said in his menacing tone, causing the tied-up man to bob his head vigorously in fear of his impending death at the hands of this sinister figure. "Tell me," he demanded, standing tall as he picked up a sharp axe and took predatory steps towards the helpless man. The atmosphere was thick with tension as the man struggled to find his voice, knowing that his fate hung in the balance. The room was filled with the sound of heavy breathing and the menacing presence of the man with the axe, ready to do whatever it took to get the information he sought. The tied-up man's heart raced as he realized that he had no choice but to speak, or face the consequences of this ruthless individual.

"Da......Daksh Sinha", the man stammered, his voice trembling as he struggled to speak. Sweat dripped down his face, mixing with the blood oozing from his wounds.

"Hmm," Saransh hummed, his eyes fixed on the sharpness of the axe in his hand. Without warning, he placed the blade against the man's thigh and sliced through his skin. A piercing scream filled the room as the man writhed in agony.

"Relax, I was just checking the sharpness of the axe," Saransh said in a cold, dominating tone. The man shuddered in terror, realizing the true horror of his situation. The tension in the room was palpable, and the fear was thick in the air as Saransh loomed over him.

"Tell me which hand you tried to touch my wife," Saransh demanded, his voice heavy and shivering down to Man Spain.

"I'm...im ....sorry, sir," the man pleaded, but Saransh's ears were deaf when it came to his wife.

"Tsk.... I simply inquired about the hand, not told you to say sorry," Saransh remarked, his fiery glare searing the man's body.

"Tell me," Saransh roared, smashing a burning cigar into the man's eyeball and punching him in the jaw; the man coughed blood from his mouth.

"Rig.......right hand," a man whispered, trembling in fear as Saransh stood before him. Without hesitation, Saransh swiftly sliced off the man's right hand, causing him to scream out in agony. A sinister smirk crept onto Saransh's face as he watched the man's blood splatter onto his own face, a twisted sense of satisfaction washing over him. The man's hand lay discarded on the ground, a gruesome reminder of the consequences of crossing paths with Saransh.

Saransh looked at the man's hand on the ground, his breath hollow, and he closed his mouth to gulp back his rage. "It is not fair, Sharma, that you are feasting without me." When an irritating voice sounded from behind, Saransh clinched his teeth and glared at Alex, who was wearing a cunning sneer.

"Not now, Alex," Saransh admonished, lighting his cigar and raking his hair with his hands.

"Parcel this filthy hand to that Daksh Sinha," Saransh said to Alex before exiting the basement behind his private mansion.