Page 20 of Remi's War (Four Dark Horsemen 2)

These magnificent reptiles have their own appeal, speaking to the darkness that resides in me and crushed my soul a long time ago.

They create fear and repulsion in whoever comes in contact with them. Similar to my experience, where my existence alone threatened to destroy two families once upon a time.

Two families who didn’t mind sacrificing me at the altar of their selfishness to keep the status quo of the prestige and luxury they thrived in.

“He wanted you killed.” His brows furrow, and his voice rises to a higher pitch while he stills, breathing heavily after each yell. “‘Shoot him,’ he said. ‘Shoot him so my daughter and our families will be free from this shame.’” Robert’s annoying voice grates on my nerves when he continues his excuses. The idiot really thinks some lousy explanation is going to save him.

Too bad fear means nothing to me.

If you are a coward who hurts the innocent, don’t bother excusing your behavior, as I will kill you anyway.

However, the way one is killed depends on my mood and the information they can give me.

Everything in this world has a price.

I hiss a breath through my teeth. “Ah, you failed to listen to the order.”

“I couldn’t do it. You were so little. Just a day old. I swear, Remi, I did everything I could.”

“Did you?” I sigh, my hold on the handle tightening for a fraction of a second. “Then I should thank your compassionate nature for me ending up with junkies?”

He nods, relief flashing on his face, and then his agonized screams echo around the dungeon when I twist the knife deeper into his cheek before sliding it lower and stabbing him hard in the collarbone—although not touching any important arteries.

Robert does not deserve a quick death.

I remove the knife, grinning at the blood coating the steel, then throw it on the floor where it lands with a loud clatter.

Robert places his shaking hands over his wounds before gliding them up and trying to rip away the collar around his neck as tears stream down his face, mixing with blood. He licks them off and cries some more. All while pain fills his eyes, so deep and profound it allows the pleasure to travel through my bones for a moment.

A moment, because I remember myself and all his deeds, and this pain reflects back at me.

It’s nothing compared to the inferno I had to live through that was akin to hell on earth, paying the dues for the sins my parents committed.

“Please,” he begs hoarsely, his voice barely audible now. His knees bend more every second, and he chokes on his own blood before standing up and then repeating the action all over again.

He’s a pitiful sight, but it’s still not enough to satisfy the monster raging in my soul, seeking total destruction of his enemies, and even that might not be enough to satisfy the all-consuming anger present in every breath I take.

Because you have to live in absolute misery to relate to it.

Wrapping my palm around the chain, I lift Robert up a little bit until his toes barely touch the ground and he becomes blue in the face, struggling in my hold as much as he can while staying awake and fighting for his life to the best of his abilities. “Today is your lucky day, Robert,” I say, lifting him up a little more before flicking the lock open with the twist of my wrist, and he falls hard on the floor, his hurtful groan loud in the silence. “I feel generous. A little bit at least.”

He breathes heavily, gulping for breath while coughing every other second. He sits up only to fall on his back again. I grab the nearby chair and hit him hard with it, closing my eyes to soak up his scream that trumps any music in the world for me.

There are no more beautiful melodies than the ones my victims make in the throes of their despair.

Placing the chair over his chest, I straddle it and glance down at Robert, who just chants, “Please, please, please.” Rolling my eyes, I grab the gun from my back pocket and flick the safety off, which makes him freeze instantly.

His pain-filled gaze focuses on me as he shakes his head, scrunching his eyes so hard in anticipation of a shot following.

“I’m going to give you a choice, Robert, of how you die.” He looks at me again, panic etched on his features, and finally hope slowly slips away.

Ah, the most glorious sight indeed.

He burst out in tears again, sobbing, and I clack my tongue. “Robert, learn to accept the gift I’m giving you. Either you will die of the poison already killing you inside…” He shakes his head and I cock my head to the side. “No? You don’t like that option. Well, since there is no antidote, your death will be long and painful in ways you cannot even imagine.” I tap his cheek with my leather shoe, pressing on the wound there, which earns me more cries. “Unless you spill a little secret, and then I’ll shoot you in the forehead.” Even allowing him to choose demands great restraint.

To accomplish my plan though, I need the information Robert has.

He was always a drunk, ready to do everything for his next fix, but this secret he almost took to the grave.

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