Prisoner 409

8. Prisoners Posses - 4 - 0 - 9

Hi loves, the paperback for Prisoner 4-0-9 will be out pretty soon! And I'm trying my hardest to make it available on Amazon. Editing, Editing, Editing for you guys.

The night before . . .

"Mr. White . . . do you find pleasure in beating women?"

Dain's blood dripped stickily on his white button-up, it reminded me of a toddler being fed. His head hung slightly, but he was fully conscious. His face was filled with pure hatred, and menace, such an ugly look for a short, weak man.

"You have no idea who I am do you?!"

He laughed in disbelief, shaking his head, "when I get out of here –"

"You know what, I think we should laugh together."

He pauses, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

"Come on," I approach him, his pupils dilating in fear and uncertainty, but he hid it well with his expressions, "I find it funny as well."

"Who are you, psychopath?" He spat.

"Ouch," I sigh, shaking my head, "why am I the psychopath, Dain?"

"What makes me any different from you?"

"Well, for starters I didn't kidnap anyo -,"

"No, but you abuse a woman every day in her adult life . . . I think . . . maybe we can call it even."

His eyes grow wider, and it dawns onto his face. His facial expressions relax, and he chuckles lowly.

"The elephant found a protector, huh?" I clench my fists. "well then, you can tell your bitch Ocean that she's all yours!"

I plant my foot into his face and make him fall backward on his chair. He lets out a bark, unable to move as he's tied to the chair.

My blood raced to my ears, as irrational thoughts filled my mind. I tried my hardest to calm them, to go as planned, but this fucker had no remorse.

My men pick him off the floor, and he spits at my shoe.

"I know you think that you're getting out of here alive . . . " I clasp my hands together, looking down at him as his lips part in shock, "I know this because it's clear that you lack common sense."

"You have no idea who I am, puta, no, you haven't figured it out just yet. "

I lean, both hands on either side of the arm of his chair, watching the blood as it trickles down his face.

"Men like you disgust me. Women beaters, you're weak, hitting someone who can't fight back."

Dain scoffs in response, "and you think you're any better?"

"Maybe not . . . but what's important now is you're going to know what it feels like. To be helpless, scared, and vulnerable," I push away, turning around as my men roll in the torture tools, "I'm going to live up to your expectations, and not give you the chance to fight back, just like you didn't give Ocean a chance to fight back."

"Let her know th—" I grab hold of his throat, squeezing until his eyes were bulging out of his socket, and his tongue was hanging out of his mouth like a dead dog.

"I won't let her know anything, you stupid, worthless, piece of shit," I growl, watching as he turns blue, "and I hope you rest well knowing that you'll never get to see her again."

By his neck, I drag him closer to the torture table, the chair scraping along the unfinished floor.

I release his neck and he gasps for air, his reaction uncontrollable as he couldn't rub his neck to provide any type of relief. I make a sign for my men to leave before turning back to my guests.