“Tell me who sent you.” The bat connects to his kneecap, shattering in its wake.
“I don’t—don’t know their names.” He shrinks into himself. “They didn’t give us names. Just—just told us to bring the girl. Someone wants her.”
I go still. “Who?”
“I don’t know!”
I swing again. “Think harder.”
“Fuuuck!” His exhales grow shallow, teeth rattling.
“I don’t know his name. No one does. We got paid by a middleman.”
“Tell me who.”
He shoots off a name and a number. American. I’m sure it was the Volkovs who paid him.
The bat falls from my hand, and I grab the saw again. It hums to life as I put it on. Loud. Piercing. A mechanical shriek that has dread growing in his irises.
“Wait, no!” His body quivers. “Please…please, man, don’t!”
“You came for my wife.” I crouch down. “You pointed a gun at her. You made her kill. You made her cry. And that is unforgivable.”
“I-I-I’m sorry. I’ll help you, okay? Anything you want. I’ll be your man.”
“I do not need your help. I have my family for that.”
His scream rips from his lungs as the blade makes contact with this shoulder, his arm severing as blood sprays across my face. And it fuels the flames already consuming me.
But I do not stop. I saw through flesh and tendon, through bone and muscle, until the arm drops to the floor with a sickening, wet thud.
The pigs shriek behind me, scenting the fresh meat.
Konstantin nods toward the pen. “Toss it in. They’ve been starving.”
I pick up the severed limb and throw it over the gate. The pigs fight over it instantly, squealing in delight.
“Do not worry, I will have more soon.”
The man yells again as I take his other arm. He’s thrashing, half delirious now, his legs kicking weakly.
Anton steps forward, pulling his face up by his hair. “Let’s make him watch.”
He turns him toward the pigs. They are louder now. Wet, savage chewing. One of them grunts as it fights another for the bone.
When I take his leg, he barely has any strength to scream. I let the saw fall this time.
“You hear that?” I whisper in his ear as I watch the pigs. “That’s your death calling.”
“Please,” he whimpers. “Kill me.”
“No. They will.”
“Noooo…please…”
I keep him conscious as long as possible, letting him feel it. Feel the blood leaving his body, the terror rise as his strength fades.
And when he’s just barely holding on, I lean in one last time.
