I stared at the frail man tied to the chair with blood stained rope, which had once been a murky beige colour. His hands and legs were tied tightly, leaving rope burns where they scraped his almost lifeless form and scarring him the same way. His skin clung to his bones, the consequence of not having consumed even a single crumb of food. He had survived these last two days on a few drops of water. I didn't want to waste anymore on someone as malevolent as him. This resulted in him being weak, much weaker than he had been that night.
And this pleased me.
He woke up and it took him a few moments to process where he was. Once he had, he started to make noise. Noise that was muffled by the cloth as dark and twisted as his soul and as dark as twisted as I had become. He pleading, begging for mercy. Mercy that even a monster deserved. Only, he wasn't a monster.
He was much worse.
He had been deaf to my pleas and I so wanted to be deaf to his, but I wasn't.
So, instead, I stood stiffly where I was and watched the life fade from his eyes and his body slump into death.
