The bastard is already wasting my fucking time.
I kick the gun and his hand away, sending it skidding off the edge of the platform. The furnace looms low beside us, its molten heart a swirling pit of fiery rage, and a torturous idea flickers in my mind.
Above, a thick, rusted chain hangs, its metal groaning with every creak. To my right, the button sits, glowing a faint red, as if it too can sense the horror about to unfold. Without hesitation, I slam my palm down on it, and the chain descends.
When it’s within my reach, I yank it down and pull it tight around his wounded ankle before connecting the hook and his cries grow more dramatic, which only pleases me. As soon as I’m finished, I stand upright, watching as his body squirms beneath me. The button calls to me again, and I press it with a loud smack. The machine groans to life, and the chain begins to drag him upward. His screams scrape against my sanity, but they only fuel the chaos that bubbles inside me.
“You’ve got around twenty seconds to give me that time and date, Bob, or your foot will rip apart, and you’ll end up in that molten hell below,” I shout over the roar of the machinery and his frantic cries.
He dangles helplessly in the air, blood pouring from the stump of his severed arm and I almost think I’ve gone too fucking far, so far that I might not even get the information.
The moment he hovers over the molten pit, I hit the button again to stop the chain, watching the terror flood his face, his eyes wide with the realization of what’s to come.
His life is a thread, and I’m holding the fucking scissors.
“The White Woods!” he wheezes, barely able to form the words. I lean over the railing, holding the metal hard, my eyes cold as I let the name settle in. I know that place. But I need more.
“Time and date, motherfucker,” I growl, almost purring with sadistic pleasure.
“Two days! Midnight!” he screams, “Please! Help me!”
His face contorts as he begins to feel the strain on his shredded ankle. I watch the tear deepen, the flesh giving way under the pressure.
All I do is raise an unbothered eyebrow and wait.
The seconds stretch, and then, just as the Achilles tendon snaps with a revolting, final tear, his body jerks as he screams one last time. And then, he plunges. The final scream is gradually swallowed by the furnace’s roar as he plummets into the molten below. His body disintegrates almost instantly, the sound of him melting alive a haunting melody that echoes in my mind long after it fades.
Another one sent to hell.
Chapter Ten
Raven
The bathroom feels even smaller in the dark, the cold seeping into my bones as I sit pressed against the radiator. Midnight is curled up beside me, her soft purring the only sound to keep me company. My head rests on the metal, and my eyes are heavy with tiredness, but my thoughts won’t stop racing.
When will he come back? What if something happened to him? What if I’m left here to rot?
I try to shake the thoughts away, closing my eyes briefly, when suddenly, a loud bang echoes from somewhere downstairs. My head snaps up, my heart jolting before hammering wildly in my chest.
The room feels suffocatingly silent as I try to hear anything else. Then it comes—the gradual thud of footsteps, each one heavier than the last. Something drags along the floorboards, the noise grating against the quiet like nails on a chalkboard. I stop breathing as my wide, fearful eyes lock onto the door.
The footsteps stop outside, and for a moment, the world seems to stand still. The doorknob turns, agonizingly slow until it finally cracks open, and a flickering light spills into the room. My body tenses as the glow grows brighter, illuminating his silhouette.
His head is bowed as he steps inside, and I instantly notice his shirtless body is drenched in blood, streaks of crimson covering his arms, chest, and face. His black jeans are smeared with dark stains, and his boots leave muddy prints in his wake. In his other hand, he drags a bloodied axe, the blade gleaming even beneath its macabre coating.
He doesn’t look at me, doesn’t even say a word. He strides across the room with a strange calmness, as if the blood on him is nothing more than spilled paint. He sets the large candle on the floor in the far corner, its flame dancing.
I can’t tear my eyes away from him as I pull my legs in closer to my chest, and rest my chin on my knees, trying to make myself as small as possible. Midnight stirs beside me, letting out a soft mew, but I don’t dare move.
What the fuck has he done now? Where has he been? Who’s fucking blood is that? My questions whirl in my mind, but I’m too scared to ask. Too afraid to do anything but watch him.
Ty’s head tilts slightly, just enough for his gaze to pierce through the strands of black hair hanging over his eyes. His expression is blank, but the sinister energy radiating from him is suffocating, heavy enough to crush the air from my lungs.
He turns his body, moving toward me as the screech of the axe drags along the tiles, sharp and grating.
When he reaches me, he just drops to his knees in front of me, his towering frame casting shadows over me. Midnight bolts out of the room as soon as the handle of the axe hits the floor, the jingle of her collar fading quickly as she disappears into the night.
My heart leaps at the sound, and I instinctively yank at the handcuffs in desperation, the cold bite of the metal cutting intomy already sore wrists, but Ty’s unsettling presence drags my attention back to him.
