Chapter 2
“Our vices and obsessions can never be controlled.
And as such there is no cure for them.
Even if they are deadly in their nature.”
Florian
Florian
Classical music echoes through the space, powerful notes coating the place in something wicked, whispering about the upcoming doom that has no mercy or compassion for anyone.
Because darkness and monsters rule it, so there is only hopelessness bordering on insanity.
I step inside the arena, and a smile curves my mouth when thunder shakes the sky, mixing with loud whimpers rocking off the walls and making it reek of panic and fear so strong one might almost touch it.
Is there anything more beautiful than the fear permanently polluting the air and slowly turning into desperation and misery that results in the most painful death?
The anticipation of a fresh kill pumps my blood, spreading in my veins and filling me with a certain kind of energy that urges me to indulge in my hideous thirst until nothing but agony remains.
After all, I’m a hunter seeking to torture my victims and bring them the most pain because only in their pain do I have the ability to thrive and mute the horrible voices echoing in my head and ordering me to succumb to them.
If I do, my rage would be endless and absolute, turning me into a psychopath, although some might say I’m already there.
However, a true hunter always has one thing in abundance: patience that allows us to wait and hunt our prey until they are trapped and lost with no escape.
Then, and only then, we sink our claws into them and drag them to our dungeon, where we tear their flesh piece by piece, welcoming their terror as it sends pleasure through our system and keeps us alive like nothing else.
Snapping my fingers, I say, “Light.” As the command slips past my lips, one by one, the lights above me turn on, brightening the place around me and showing my dungeon in its magnificent glory.
A hell on earth that can never be mistaken for heaven despite its cold beauty because no one will have empathy for you here, and every detail surrounding the place is destined to turn you insane and cause you the worst amount of pain.
I’ve personally drawn the design and come up with each detail, needing my sanctuary to be exactly like I wanted as chaos soothes my dark and damaged soul.
A soul that turned rotten in time, leaving only an echo of a person I once was.
The rectangular-shaped arena spreads horizontally so far that it creates an illusion of infinity as the light is absent and gives a sense of doom and loneliness because it’s a prison with no way out.
My own kind of purgatory punishing them all with blood and torture so whenever they enter true hell, the devil will have nothing to do with them since they’ve been broken beyond repair.
Disgusting, soulless creatures who should have never lived won’t even find solace in hell, forever carrying my scars, thrashing in agony even in the afterlife.
Several spacious couches line the perimeter, and the bar in the right corner holds all the expensive alcohol so my guests could enjoy the show if the mood strikes them to watch.
Some of them might even join in if I allow it, although our dungeons are sacred to us, for we display our deepest vices in them, and as such, we rarely, if ever, poach on each other’s territory.
A glass ceiling allows for the moonlight or sun, depending on the time of day, to shine brightly on the victims so they can look up and stare at the endless sky, thinking about their deeds and praying for a god who’ll never hear them.
Some even gaze at the stars, making wishes between whimpers and cries, hoping for the impossible, which only adds to my amusement.
If you get caught by the monster, do not hope, but survive, for they are merciless and will exploit your weakness until nothing will be left.
I should know.
I lived in hell and managed to run away from it, except…running away from hell has its consequences.
As our mind forever bears our memories, some images are imprinted in my head so much it’s a wonder I can function on a daily basis.
What part of your body do we scar first, boy?
My fist clenches at the disgusting voice echoing in my ears, anger gliding through my veins and awakening every hunting instinct inside me, demanding blood and vengeance as if nothing else would ever be satisfying enough.
I turn my attention to the true stars of my dungeon—five tables holding countless weapons, from the most expensive guns gathered all over the world to chains and knives bought from secret markets, where only the richest of the rich have access. Connections are valuable resources that you have to know how to use wisely in order to get what you want.
However, my most proud possessions are poisons, each unique and different, but all of them deadly, promising only agony. I’ve spent years collecting them, exploring them, and watching what they can do to a human body, and among them all, I have favorites.
Some of them I even know how to make myself. There’s a certain kind of attraction to creating a weapon that has the ability to take away a life.
It’s a crime that I can’t make this my legacy. The true art of torture lies in how skillfully you can use the weapons in your arsenal and not your constant desire to kill someone.
If you can’t rein in your fury…you’re destined for failure.
“Please.” I look in the middle of the arena at the kneeling man wearing jeans.
A chain tight to the ceiling is wrapped around his neck, holding him in place while he breathes heavily, his chest rising and falling as he shakes his head desperately, trying to see through the tight blindfold covering his eyes. “Please help me.” Taking out the cigarette pack from my back pocket, I put one in my mouth and light it up, inhaling it deeply. Welcoming the taste of nicotine hitting my tongue, I puff the smoke all around me. “You have the wrong person.” He swallows hard, exhaling heavily as he shifts to the side and cries out in despair when he digs his knee into one of the countless spread nails hammered to the floor around him. “I’m a wealthy and respected man.”
Ah, the stupidity of humankind never ceases to amaze me.
Or their delusions.
If a monster caught you in his trap, he has no intention of letting you go because the high of killing you is far greater than that of the reward.
“Please stop. Please. My dad will pay.”
A sadistic laughter rocks off the walls while fear sweeps over me, and I shift closer to my brother, who wraps me tight in his arms. “Of course he will, boy. But who said I have to keep my promise?”
A sob slipping past my victim’s throat pulls me back to the present as I blink the memories away, although the newfound fury boils my blood and spreads fire through me, pushing my devious nature to the surface. I go to the table and throw the lighter and the pack of cigarettes on it.
Focusing on the array of blades, I trail my fingers over the finest steels and grab one of them with the sharp edges glistening under the light. Lifting it, I wink at my reflection in it and spin around to march toward the man who continues to yap, his every word grating on my nerves because he’s a waste of space. “If you let me go, I’ll pay.”
“How much?”
He sighs in relief and relaxes. What an idiot. “Any amount. Just name your price. Save me and help me get the hell out before they come back.” He licks his chapped lips. “I have several businesses.” My palm flexes around the blade’s handle, and I barely resist the desire to pierce it through him so he won’t brag about his businesses. He uses humans as his favorite toys, and he sells them to everyone who’s willing.
Money, the source of the greatest power in this world, and if someone tries to convince you otherwise…they’re either lying to you or never had it in the first place.
However, money is a powerful resource only when you offer it to someone who doesn’t have it, and me?
I possess it in abundance.
But if I haven’t?
I’d sooner shove it down his fucking throat than accept it.
My boots thump loudly on the granite floor as I move closer to him. “I’m afraid money won’t cut it for me.”
He sits up straighter, taking a deep breath, and his voice becomes more authoritative as he orders, “Tell me what you want.” A beat passes. “You messed with the wrong guy.”
He freezes at my laughter as I finally reach him and put the tip of the blade on his cheek, making him jerk as I slowly cut the blindfold.
When it slides down his nose to his chest and on the floor, I puff more smoke while he blinks several times and looks at me.
His eyes widen, shock etches on his features while fear blankets his gaze, and he shakes his head, as if doing so would change his reality.
Surprise, motherfucker. I’m still here.
“Florian,” he whispers on an exhale, scooting back a little, only to bite on his lip when another nail stabs into his knee. “Florian.”
“Alex,” I greet him back and grin. “You still remember me. I’m flattered.” Inhaling more nicotine into my lungs, I tap on the cigarette, watching the ash fall to the ground as endless flashbacks play in my mind.
Over and over again, for there is no reprieve from them, just temporary numbing sensations in the form of murdering someone.
Blood, among other things, has the power to wipe away the nightmares, if only for a moment in time.
“Florian, please.” He puts his hands on the collar, pulling at it, but all his efforts are useless. “It was a long time ago.”
“Twenty-six years, to be exact.” I cock my head to the side and click my tongue when he shifts farther back. Maybe the idiot truly believes he can escape my wrath and save himself from the payback decades in the making. “It’s a pity you wasted all this money on countless plastic surgeries that could never hide your rotten nature from me anyway.”
He swallows, still holding on to the chain, and I can almost see the wheels spinning in his head, searching for a solution and finding none if the devastation crossing his face is anything to go by. “I had no choice. He blackmailed me.” His breathing speeds up as I step closer toward him, and goose bumps break on his skin while the pulse on his neck beats wildly, the prey already dreading what the hunter would do. “He had all the power. We just followed his lead.”
I pause, and he sighs, only to tense again when I puff out more smoke and say, “Ah, I see. You were an unwilling participant in his crimes, then?” He nods, and I reach him in two short steps, looming above him as he watches me with hope and joy alike, which once again proves his sheer stupidity.
If a monster catches you in his net, either accept it with dignity or fight until you can beat your enemies. Never expect your pleas to fall on anything but deaf ears as creatures like me have no conscience or morals keeping us sane.
Just a deep desire and need to destroy, possess, and end in the most cruel ways, as only when the cries of despair fill our ears do we find peace.
For a moment in time.
“He promised us millions. A small and quick job and we’d be set for life.” He casts his gaze down under my harsh stare while my hold on the handle becomes even tighter, the memories and his words awaking the beast raging within me that wishes to cut off his tongue so no more lies spew from his mouth. “We got nothing, though. Just got our hands dirty and hearts filled with regrets.”
A tremor rushes through him when my laughter reverberates through the space, and he pales a little while my voice turns almost deadly. “Hearts filled with regrets? Is this why you continued your business afterward?”
“Florian—” Whatever he wishes to say turns into a painful scream when I press the tip of the cigarette to his forehead, enjoying watching it burn his skin and leaving an imprint on it. He thrashes, trying to evade it, so I kick him in the nuts. “Shut up and take it like a man, you little piece of shit.” I repeat the exact words he once uttered to me while his alcohol-induced breath fanned my cheek as I struggled to breathe through his choking grip.
I throw the butt away as he sits on his haunches, his fingers continuing to pull at the collar as he says, his voice raspy, “I’m sorry. It was a mistake. He forced us.”
I click my tongue, tapping with the sword on the floor, and he jerks while tears start to fall down his cheeks, amusing me to no end.
How pathetic and predictable. Once the likes of him meet a true opponent, they turn into cowards because they can harm only the weak.
“Come on, Florian. Smile for Daddy. He needs to know we got his baby boy.” A flash goes into my face, blinding me for a second while a tight rope holds me in place. “Or rather cry. It’ll destroy him more.” He grins, and that’s all the warning I get before something hard hits the back of my head and pain ricochets through my entire body, numbing me.
I lift the sword up again, enjoying how it sends shadows dancing on the floor while Alex’s breathing becomes even louder, grating on my nerves because his breathing is an offense to humankind. “You see, Alex. Everything we do has consequences in this world.” My voice drops to a whisper while he shakes his head, scrunching his eyes as he tries to stand again by gripping the chain, but all it does is choke him more, so he falls back on his knees, the cracking sound echoing through the space, followed by his loud cry.
Ah, finally.
The bones snapping.
One of the sweetest sounds and better than any music.
“I’m sorry, Florian. I’ve never done this again.” He looks at me, his eyes filled with pain and fear rivaling the ones he must have seen countless times. “I’ve changed. It was a turning point in my life.” He licks his chapped lips again. “I have a family now. They mean everything to me, and I would have never jeopardized their safety.”
On the grand scale of things, it wouldn’t have mattered if he did or not, as the atrocities committed the first time around signed him the death warrant. However, his lie fuels me with rage so strong I no longer wish to contain it.
Instead, I unleash it.
His head snaps back as an agonizing scream escapes his throat when I stab my blade right into his gut, the flesh giving way easily and swallowing the silver as blood pours around him.
The sight of blood was always mesmerizing to me as it has the power to scare and soothe at the same time, the red color being the only vividness I can tolerate in this dark dungeon of mine.
I pull my arm back, only to stab him again while he cries and thrashes in my hold, although all it does is just prolong his agony while the blood continues to drip down his stomach and pants. “That’s the interesting thing about consequences, Alex. They always catch up with you in one way or the other. And they don’t give a fuck about your fake remorse,” I say, pressing on the button above the chain, and it snaps, sending him flying on his back. I press the tip of my shoes on his throat as he gazes at me, his eyes becoming hazy from the pain, but he’s still coherent enough to understand everything.
After all, I’ve learned the art of torture for years and have no intention to kill him just yet. Quick death is not fun, and besides…
My family taught me that you can achieve anything you want with a little bargaining.
Atonement displayed when one’s life is threatened is no atonement at all, as only the desire to save ones ass consumes it. Putting a bit more pressure on his throat, I lean on the blade, enjoying how he whimpers. “You have two choices right now, Alex. An easier death or a very torturous one.” I flash him a grin while he coughs on his own blood. “What would it be?” He opens his mouth, probably ready to beg, so I beat him to it. “Mercy is not an option, Alex. You’ll burn in hell. How soon is entirely up to you.”
More tears come, and I hate seeing them because the likes of him should not have the privilege to cry. None of it is sincere, and even if it was?
Fuck them and their tears.
“Well, Alex?”
He croaks through his tight throat, “Easy death.”
“It’ll cost you, though.” I step back but keep the blade intact to secure him in the same spot and control the bleeding. His body right now runs on adrenaline alone. “Where is he?”
Just as I ask the question, the music stops, and complete silence blankets the space around us, charging it with sinister and ruthless energy, sending anticipation through my veins because victory will soon be mine.
Panic crosses his face while a sob slips past his lips, and his splayed palms land on the floor, his fingers curling into it as he gasps for breath several times before replying, “I have no idea. He never gave us his name or contacted us afterward.” He winces and cries out when I step on his hand, the cracking sound ringing in the air. “I swear, Florian.”
I sigh, returning to the table and picking up a drill, then turning it on. The trrr sound reverberates through the space as I spin around to face him again, only for him to whisper, “Please, no.”
“A deal is a deal, isn’t it, Alex?”
He groans when I kick his leg as I come back to him, and his eyes focus on the drill while the blood continues to pour from his wound. If I hadn’t coated it in poison earlier, he would have passed out.
The perks of mastering the craft over the years? You tend to learn how to prolong agony in the most vicious way.
I’m about to pull him up by the collar when he whispers, “He said he’d be back.” I still at this, my instincts going on high alert. “He’d be back to claim another firstborn.” Straightening up, I cock my head to the side while pondering his words. “According to him, the Price family should pay for the disrespect they’ve shown.” More fucking annoying coughing follows his confession as coldness and fury envelop me, gliding over my skin akin to a tsunami ready to sweep everything in its wake. “That’s all I know.”
He just confirmed what I knew all along.
A monster lurking in the shadows who waits for the perfect moment to strike still hunts for my family’s misery and hopes to win the next round because everything always worked out according to his plan.
An interesting thing about monsters?
Only their kind has the power to extinguish them, and wouldn’t that be a poetic way to go?
To be killed by the person you turned into a hideous creature.
Because that’s the only reprieve from the nightmares playing in my head over and over again.
“Alex.” I put my foot on his collarbone and wait until our gazes clash. “You’ve proved once again what a spineless coward you are.” Stepping back, I place the drill on the nearest table and grab the whiskey bottle from it, flicking it open. “I always keep my word, though. Your death shall be quicker.” I whistle and take a huge swig from my drink, welcoming the burning sensation in my throat.
Relief, along with happiness, washes over his face. He exhales, closing his eyes, seemingly ready to face his downfall, only to still and snap them open again when someone growls. “Oh, no.” Alex whimpers, his breathing speeding up when the majestic and gorgeous creature steps out from the shadows, green eyes flashing as they zero in on the prey.
He prowls toward us, his paws tapping on the floor while his gray-and-orange fur glistens in the light, showcasing his large size and absolute perfection in its full glory.
His ears twitch a little as he moves closer and circles Alex, who cries harder and pisses his pants, which earns my chuckle. Their pathetic characters will never fail to amuse me.
“No, no, no,” Alex whispers as the creature breathes on him and continues to pace around him until he lands his huge paws on his chest. Looking at me, he opens his muzzle. His sharp teeth greet me, and I wink at him while he huffs, waiting for my command. “Please, Florian.”
Unbelievable.
The piece of shit still hopes for the best and divine intervention to save his ass.
Funny, isn’t it?
We all become powerless sooner or later, and if we aren’t careful enough, we might believe we are invincible…except no one fucking is.
The scars on my body and soul could attest to that.
“Alex, say hi to my wolf.” He whimpers again, pissing his pants some more, and I’ve had enough of this. “Zeus.”
That’s all the command my wolf needs to pounce on Alex, biting into his throat as Alex thrashes and screams.
He has free rein now to play with his prey as much as he wants and feed his own need to destroy.
Although my wolf has standards, so he doesn’t eat their rotten flesh.
My phone vibrates in my back pocket. Keeping my focus on them, I take it out and see a message flashing from Octavius.
Jimena is home.
The forbidden and beautiful siren consuming my every thought is back.
She shouldn’t have come home.
Now, she will have no choice but to become collateral damage in the war that’s been decades in the making.
Because she dared to do the unthinkable.
Fall for a soulless and cursed man who’s soaked in darkness.
She will have to pay the price for it because everything has consequences.
After all, la vida es despiadada.
Life is ruthless.
And so am I.