Page 12 of Kadra: The Unfeeling

He will die a miserable and painful death for hurt– my thought is interrupted by the doors to the torture room opening. “I knew I’d find you here.” Turning my head away from a dying Al, I watch as my Pakhan enters, exhaling smoke as he chuckles at the man being tortured. “I see you got yourself caught, pizda.”

“Is there something you need?” I ask while putting the gag back on a still bitching Al. I enjoy hearing their useless pleas and incoherent mumbling asking for mercy but at some point, it starts to become annoying. Walking towards Vladimir, my Pakhan, I reach for the liquid bottle I need and ignore his chuckling going back to Al.

“You must’ve done something really bad to get this treatment,” he says, perching on the weapon table. “Will you be done anytime soon, or do you want me to help you?” Even though he asks this question, I can see that my victim doesn’t appeal much to him. His tastes are way… sicker than mine. Which is hilarious in itself.

“No need.” I pour the liquid on Alessio and watch with glee how his eyes grow big when what I plan to do next dawns on him. “I’m done here.”

“Thought you might need this.” He takes his zippo out of his breast pocket and throws it my way. Catching it, I smile. All I know I learned from him, that is why from time to time he joins me down here and watches as I carry on with the torture. Some last hours and others last days still he remains by my side until it’s done. Putting the bottle of gasoline down on the floor next to my feet, I then stood as close as possible to Al without touching his filthy blood.

Taking my phone out, I take a picture and save it for later.

“Italian.” Vladimir points out of nowhere.

“Italian,” I murmur, smiling a little when Alessio’s eyes narrow. Oh, yes there it is. The shock is gone and now his true nature comes out.

“What business do you have with Detroit that I’m not aware of?”

I think about his question as I play with the lid of his zippo. “Are you asking me as my brother or my Pakhan?”

“As both.”

Opening the zippo fully, I raise my gaze and stare at Al’s terrified face. “We have a score to settle him and me.” That’s all I give my brother. That’s all that matters to him.

There’s a long pause before Vlad speaks again. “Go on then, brat. Have fun”.

I always do.

I flip the zippo and watch the flame appear before I light the bastard on fire.

Now he’ll get the ending he deserves.

He’ll burn and I hope he does for all eternity and never once has a moment of peace.

Vlad and I stand there watching as a man burns right in front of us as we have countless times before. This life is not for the weak and Alessio and every other sick cunt like him is weak. They don’t deserve mercy.

They deserve nothing.

The anger inside dies down a bit as I watch Al die a slow and painful death.

After a long while his cries end and so does his life and all that is left of him is ashes and the smell of burning flesh in the room.

One less fuck in the streets reaping the seeds of his greed and enjoying the pain of innocents.

“Good riddance,” I murmur before stepping back and meeting my older brother’s gaze.

The look on Vlad’s face tells me all I need to know. The conversation is about to turn serious. “We’ll find him. I won’t let history repeat itself.”

Him.

History.

Darkness clouds my mind but I push it back. I need to think straight.

When I just nod, my older brother touches my head lovingly before exiting the torture room. “Good job, brat. I hope she’s worth it.”

She’s worth everything. She’ll always will.

Before I exit, I lean down and pick up a finger and a few teeth that weren’t ruined by me stomping on them. With pieces of the fucker, in hand, I walk towards the table and pick a Ziploc bag and toss them inside. Then I move toward the fridge on the other end of the room, open it, and fill the bag with ice before tossing it inside with all my souvenirs.

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