18: Hidden

To kill a monster, you must become one yourself

*~*

Cracking of bones, screams of anguish and agony, reddish liquid spread all over, the sound of lugubrious cries, taste of salty tears. 

All were like a melodious sound to his ears, and a blissful scene in his eyes. His lips curved into a smile, his smile was sadistic, atrocious, inhumane, and fiendish, a complete display of the man he was, the real rapscallion in our closet, the nightmares that stalked the weak, languid, and even the vigorous of mind. 

He was he.

Advancing, he held the man’s hand, who was tied to a hand chair, his face badly wounded, his clothes tattered and smudge, his body deficiently bludgeoned, and lastly, a dagger was buried in his left thigh, emanating with reddish liquid as his breaths were slackened and wimpish. One could say the man was barely alive. The monster smirked in gratificati