LACHLAN The man whimpered, hanging from the chains bolted into the concrete ceiling of one of our warehouses. Blood dripped from the various cuts on his body, pooling beneath him in a slow, thick stream, mixing with the sweat and filth coating the cracked cement floor. I crouched low, fingers flexing around the worn hilt of my blade, my expression calm and surgical.“You know,” I murmured, flicking open the blade again, the sound a quiet and deadly whisper, “I don’t particularly enjoy this. But I will do it for days if I have to.” I was lying. Besides having everything around me in prefect order, torturing someone for information was one thing my mind finds calm in. Jeremiah said it's because I won’t give the darkness inside me free reign in any other part of my life. But it's not exactly that, the fact is, it takes certain amount of control and discipline and precision to not kill the person at your mercy. One second of lack of control and I’ll end up with a dead body sooner than I
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