Page 44 of The Devil In Disguise

“Stop your damn whining, Wall Street.” Dario’s voice booms from behind me, light footsteps following until he’s directly in front of Duke. Despite his best efforts, he can’t stop running his mouth with incoherent apologies.

Dario’s irritability grows tenfold by the second. Any second now, he’ll snap.

“I am sick and tired of your incessant crying. He’s only just gotten started with you.” Duke’s lip quivering is the final straw for him. In one fluid motion, Dario drives his fist straight into his gut. “Shut up!” Another punch. “Shut the fuck up!” Two more hard swings that have Duke’s eyes rolling back in pain.

Squeezing Duke’s cheeks roughly until his mouth creates an O, Dario reaches in with his gloved hand and pulls out Duke’s tongue forcefully. Without wasting any time, he reaches into his back pocket for the knife and impales diagonally through the nerves and muscle, severing it completely like it’s his craftwork.

Duke’s face pales upon seeing his tongue detached from his mouth, separated from his body. His lips move to say something, but no words follow. Dario looks towards the ceiling and releases a breath, visibly relaxing. The feral smile on his face sets Duke over the edge and he goes limp, drooping his head forward, allowing the pooling blood to leak out, dripping onto the cement.

“There we go.” Dario sighs, eyeing the severed tongue in his hands before looking at me with that glint in his eyes. In a split second, the tongue is flying in my direction, narrowly missing me when I move out of the way. Shooting a warning glare at Dario does nothing to cease the rumble of his chest. On the final chuckle, he turns to the back tables. “Now, we need some classical music to make this perfect.”

He must be mad. Who in their right mind would toss a decapitated tongue at somebody?

“You play too damn much,” I call to Dario’s retreating form.

Kicking the dying, darkening organ aside, I step closer to the sack of garbage on display, gauging the conditions he’s in. Most likely, he passed out from the fear and pain—at least he didn’t shit his pants. Yet.

Danse Macabre filters through the room setting the perfect tone—I get why he likes to work with his music now. This shit feels like a scene straight out of a movie. It heightens the thrill of an already exhilarating moment.

A slap to the face doesn’t wake Duke. Neither does the next slap or handful of blows I deliver. It’s no fun when he isn’t truly, visibly suffering from what I do. Like a manifestation of my thoughts, Dario appears to my right without a word, his crazy ninja knife ready for action. Shaking my head to hide my smirk, I step aside and let him show off.

“I always wanted to play the violin. Improvising has always been my specialty,” he whispers as he prowls towards Duke like a predator with one goal on his mind.

Slicing along his exposed chest and ribs in rapid succession, Dario falls in sync with the song. It’s not long before Duke’s eyes shoot open and he tries to move away. His mouth opens to scream, beg, but nothing more than a strangled moan slips past his lips. That only serves to further his panic, sending him into a thrashing frenzy.

My spiked bat lies in the corner, gaining my attention, demanding to be a part of the fun. Sardonic laughter escapes Dario as I’m moving across the room. The last thing I catch before fully turning is his gloved finger pressing deep into an open wound on Duke’s rib.

When I return, Dario is drawing wings and other random objects on his chest like a canvas. It momentarily strikes me that he has many talents beyond just hurting people, even if he does enjoy this for his own pleasure.

“This…this is what I call art.”

Duke shakes his head and stares at me with pleading, tear-stained eyes, as if it would do something to me. “You might’ve missed your calling.” Coming up behind Dario, I clap his shoulder with my free hand.

“My turn,” I singsong. My bat cracks against his right leg, emitting a deep, resonant crunching sound. Duke is decorated in different shades of red, from his legs to the top of his head, shallow breaths coming out rapidly.

“There we are, almost thought we lost you for a moment there. Is your leg hurting?” I taunt, flicking my eyes down to the broken body and then back up. Dario tracks the swift movement instantly, rounding the hanging body. “I guess I am feeling a little nice today. Let us help you off your feet.”

Before Duke can fully protest, Dario is pulling on the chain behind him, lifting him by his ankles. He face plants on the cement by the time I get around to helping Dario scrape the rest of his body up off the ground until he’s vertical again, eyes lined up with my thighs.

Crunching down, I meet his eyes to make sure he knows I mean every last word from the bottom of my broken soul.

“You should never have gotten the luxury of breathing the same air as her. Amaris means more than you can wrap your puny brain around.”

Dies Irae from Verdi’s Requiem resounds through the room, urging me on. The bat shatters his left leg and I swing into his stomach before tossing the bat aside.

Reaching behind my back, I grab my gun from where it was tucked in my waistband and aim at his head, breathing heavily. “You’ll be going where you belong. Back into the soil until Hell takes you. The pigs deserve a nice meal tonight.”

Click. Pop. Pop. Pop.

I empty the magazine in his head, not letting up until a few hollow clicks sound. After taking a minute to compose myself, I meet Dario at the back table where he’s wiping blood off his knives with a rag.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the girl has you eating out the palm of her hand,” he teases without looking up.

“Well, then it’s a good thing you don’t know any better,” I snap back.

He’s right. Right in ways beyond my comfort zone. He’s baiting to get a reaction, he likes to see people squirm, but I won’t give him that satisfaction.

Finally, looking up, amusement laces his features when he asks, “So, you wouldn’t wanna go burn off this excess energy at Lacy’s? I know a girl who’ll take us both tonight if you’re into sharing.”

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