Chapter 4
CHAPTER FOUR
kaius
Few things satisfied me more than the sound of a man begging for his life when he knew he was mere inches away from death.
Some found it sick that just the reminder of the whimpers could brighten my day.
Nolan, my second, always joked that there was no other sound that could do it for me, and on most days, I agreed.
My knuckles cracked against bone, splitting skin and sending a fresh spray of blood across the cold concrete. The man slumped back into the chair, groaning in half-conscious misery, each breath a shallow, pitiful gasp.
“There is only one way this ends, Joshua,” I said, my voice steady as I sneered down at him.
He coughed, blood dripping from his lips. “Please…I told you. I don’t know how the Muze is coming into the city. All I have been told is it was being traded near the border. Somewhere near the old mill. I swear to god, that’s everything I know!”
I bent at the knee to come eye level with him. “You’re lying.”
Without looking, I held out my hand. Vincent leaned against the wall behind me with all the patience of a bored cat, flicking a butterfly knife open and closed before dropping it into my waiting palm.
I flipped it open with a fluid snap, the blade catching the dim light with a wink.
I turned the knife side to side to admire its beauty.
Joshua recoiled instinctively, but the ropes binding him to the folding chair held him in place. His voice rose, a scrambled mess of stuttering pleas spilling from his lips, but I didn’t bother to acknowledge them.
“Nolan,” I called out calmly.
From the shadows, Nolan stepped forward, locking one arm around Joshua’s throat and the other across his forehead, holding him in place for me.
I stood, pressing my fingers against Joshua’s cheeks to force his mouth open.
The man’s eyes widened in panic as I snatched his tongue between my thumb and forefinger, pulling it toward me with a harsh tug.
Before Joshua even realized what I was doing, his severed tongue was hanging limply in front of him.
His screams came out as a gurgle as blood poured down his chin and over Nolan’s arm.
The bright red color soaked into Joshua’s shirt, pooling beneath the surface onto his collarbones.
The severed tongue hit the floor with a wet slap as I let it go.
Joshua’s body began to spasm as he choked on the gush of blood flooding his throat.
I turned toward Vincent once again. He held out a small vial—delicate glass cradling dried petals and leaves the color of ash and jade. I handed back his knife and took the vial, holding it up to the overhead light.
“She is beautiful, isn’t she?” I said to no one in particular, admiring the flecks of white blooms in the mix. “Most mistake her for parsley, you know. Harmless little thing…until she’s not.”
I pulled the stopper with a soft pop, pinching the batch out of its glass.
“Hemlock,” I continued on my lesson, letting a dark chuckle roll off my lips. “Slows your heart. Paralyzes you from the inside out while your nervous system begins to shut down. Sometimes, if you are lucky, this little beauty will plague its victim with hallucinations.”
Vincent always ensured the dose was a deadly one unless we wanted to play with our target for a little longer.
Wanted to draw out their death for our own sick pleasure.
There was only one time recently that I had the desire to use that method of torture.
The images of what occurred in that house on the night of the Death Dealers’ massacre still clawed their way into my dreams.
Joshua had stopped struggling, his head lolling slightly. Blood leaked in long, slow trails from the corners of his mouth. I moved closer to the man.
“The thing is, she doesn’t bite me anymore,” I whispered, my smirk returning. “I’ve grown immune. My father made sure of it, said we all needed to know our poison of choice. Explained we should become it if we wanted to survive our world.”
In one swift motion, I seized forward and shoved the hemlock into the man’s throat.
He choked, convulsed, but I made sure the plant went down—every vein in his neck standing out almost black as his skin lost color.
His eyes rolled back in his head, and Nolan finally released him.
We stood and watched as his body twitched for a few more moments before going still.
Joshua’s eyes stared blankly, glassy and vacant, up at the ceiling, all signs of life gone from him.
“She’s a nasty little thing.” I cracked a grin, tossing the empty vial back to Vincent. “Just how I like them.”