Page 28 of The Silencer

“Can you make him shut up?” I ask Bane, who scratches at his chin, blood smearing across his jaw in the process.

“I mean, you already cut his tongue out. I could take his head off, but I thought you wanted me to draw this out.”

“Hm,” I say, not sure what I’d like Bane to do. I would like this body buried with the others, but at the same time… He. Touched. Tatum.

“This carnage have anything to do with the new addition to your household?” Luca asks.

I eye him and give a slight nod.

“Thought so. Heard all about that,” he says as he sucks down the last bit of his cigarette and then leans forward and puts it out on the bloody man’s arm.

He screams, his tongueless mouth open wide. The smell of burned skin permeates the room, and I inhale it.

Good.

Let him fucking rot.

Bane giggles and puts his goggles back on. “Alright, you both done? I’m not quite done with this masterpiece.”

Luca huffs a laugh and then nods toward the door. “Yeah, we’ll get out of your hair. We’re here to see seven anyways.”

“Oh, yeah. He’s strung up in his cell. You’re good to go see him. I mean, Boss, it would be nice if you didn’t cut their tongues out right away. Because then we could actually get information from them.”

I stare at him so long that he shifts on his feet, almost looking nervous, but then he just chuckles with a wide grin. “But you do you!”

And then a saw whirls in the background, and he lifts it above his head.

“You’re gonna lose your kneecap, handsome,” Bane says almost flirtatiously.

Damn, this has to be where my son got his love of saws, or at least Bane helped it grow.

“Alright, let’s get this over with. I want a shower,” Luca says, turning away from the screams coming from Bane’s victim and moving toward one of the cells where our guests are kept.

Most are empty now, their bodies stowed behind those walls we passed earlier. In a matter of days, that sad, screaming man will be joining the corpses lined there.

My own catacombs, like I said.

I’m bound straight for hell, and I don’t even fucking care.

“Alright, what does number seven have to say? What do you think?” Luca asks as he unlocks a door and it swings open. And just like Bane said, there’s the guy, strung up on the wall, his body shaking, from pain I’m sure.

“Alright, Mr. Seven. What do you know?” Luca asks, lighting up another cigarette and inhaling deeply.

I eye the man, blood dripping from his wounds. He’s practically flayed open, his skin hanging off his body in strips.

Bane had fun with him.

Probably spent a long while here. I glance around and see a half-eaten sandwich in the corner. Seems he had lunch here too.

Which is unsurprising. Bane’s never had a problem eating with the bodies.

He would have made a good forensic pathologist if his career hadn’t led him to criminal activities.

I eye the man again and feel my body heat with rage. Ah, yes. I remember this one. He had his foot on Tatum’s head, ready to stomp when I came bursting into the filthy bathroom.

He was going to murder him.

This shit stain deserves it all.

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