The Bad Gentleman
He clenches his teeth to mask the pain, but even for a man his size, bottling up all that pain is impossible, as shortly later he lets out a loud cry that undoubtedly satisfies me.
I don't stop there though, I'm getting high off his screams and want more, so I take the bottle of cheap alcohol I use to revive criminals whenever they black out, and pour it all over his hands which are now four fingers short.
His cries fill the room, the echoes a sweet background sound that sends a rush of warmth to the space where my heart is supposed to be.
I don't even feel an ounce of guilt for what I've done despite C's loyalty for the past four years he's been working for the family, because he knows as m