Page 14 of Lines Drawn
“Now, we get him to tell us all his secrets. What types of knives do you have?”
Emilio grins and walks over to a table, gesturing for me to follow him. I nod in approval at the array of knives. Selecting bone and gutting knives, I set them on a portable tray table and gather some extra rope, along with a cloth bag. If worse comes to worse, I'll teach Emilio how to waterboard someone. Maybe I'll do that anyway.
“Time to make our prey sing, Mostrotto.”
I get a raised eyebrow at the nickname, but it's fitting for Il Padrone's Death.
“What's your name?” I ask once we're standing in front of our new friend.
“I'm not telling you shit,” he spits.
“Hmmm, that's a shame.” Pulling out my knife, I hit him across the face, enjoying the way his blood wells from the cut on his cheek. He grunts, but otherwise doesn't make a sound.
“I'll only ask you one more time,” I say in a smooth, friendly voice.
“I know who you are. I know what you do. You're not getting shit out of me.”
I grin, which earns me a look of confusion. “That’s perfectly fine with me,” I say softly. “All I wanted was your name, but if you don’t want to give it…” I shrug, unconcerned.
Emilio steps forward. “This can only go one of two ways. Wewillget what we want from you.”
In his hands is a small pair of pliers, and I smile for real when I realize what he’s going to do.
“How’d you know screaming is my favorite type of music?” I ask as he slides the pliers under the chosen one’s nail and gives a firm tug.
Nothing has even happened yet and the guy squeals like a pig. The Little Monster laughs and adjusts his grip on the pliers, before giving them a firmyankand ripping the nail out of the bed.
Ignoring Emilio and his new toy, I watch as the two people blindfolded on the ground react. One jumps as another wail echoes around the room, while the other barely reacts.
Picking up a coil of extra rope, I walk over to the two we blindfolded. Wrapping the rope around the neck of one a few times, I give my impromptu leash a few tugs, enjoying the way he thrashes, making the noose tighten around his throat.
With a forceful tug, I drag him across the room and lay him down in front of the chosen one. He jerks in his chair when he sees his buddy fighting—literally—for his life at my feet.
“Are you ready to tell us your name?” I ask calmly, as if I didn’t just drag a man across the floor on my own.
“Fuck you!” he spits.
I sigh and exchange a look with Emilio. “I don’t think he’s going to give us what we want, Mostrotto. Which is a shame. È un vigliacco debole.”
“How…disappointing,” Emilio responds. “That means we don’t need to keep him alive.”
“No, no, please!” our chosen one begs. “I couldn’t tell you what you wanted because I don’t know anything.”
“I don’t like liars,” Emilio says.
The crying and begging stops, and the desperate man disappears as quickly as it came, as if he realized that tactic wouldn’t work on us. “None of us will tell you anything,” he says. “Why should we when you’ll kill us anyway?”
“Oh, you’ll talk,” I tell him. “Whether it’s because we have to cut it out of you, or because you helpfully give us what we want to know. Either way, you will do what we want.”
“This one might be a dead end,” Emilio says, looking annoyed. “I hate wasting my time. I have better things to do than try to squeeze information out of people who are just cannon fodder.”
“Oh?” I adjust my grip on the rope and give it a tug, so the man at my feet doesn’t feel left out. He makes the most delicious choking noises before I ease up on the rope. “Like what? Cuddling with Hol?”
I can feel his eyes on me, but I don’t look at him, keeping my attention on the third prisoner. I watch every little twitch he makes, wondering when he’s going to break. As an experiment, I tug on the leash again, letting the poor bastard suffer for a long moment as I watch the third man.
He flinches and shifts, trying to escape his bonds as he hears his friends being tortured. It makes me smile, thankful this wasn't a wasted trip away from my loves.
Releasing the rope, I let it fall unceremoniously onto the floor before walking back over to our uninjured friend.
