Page 1 of Torment
CHAPTER ONE
ABOUT A YEAR AGO
Smoke fillsthe air as I exhale and tip my head to the side, watching the life of the man in front of me drain as he hangs from a metal beam, bound by his wrists over his head. Red trails down his chest and arms, dripping onto the concrete floor of the warehouse, the sound almost blending in with the rain that pelts the windows. Placing the cigarette between my lips, I push myself off the wall and take slow strides in his direction. He makes one last attempt to lift his head, and fails miserably. A soft laugh slips from my lips as I stop in front of him. I take one last drag, then flick the cigarette across the room before lowering myself into a squat to look up at him. His eyes are closed, and hisbody has gone limp. Blowing the smoke in his face, he doesn't flinch and a grin tugs at my lips.
“Not so tough now, are you fucker?” I ask the corpse. He bled out in no time at all, which is good, considering I have one more problem I need to take care of tonight.
Rising fully, I poke my finger into the man's chest, giving him a push. He doesn't make a sound or any voluntary movements, just sways back and forth. I crack my neck then pull my knife out of my back pocket and begin cutting the ropes that he’s strung up by. When I’m done with the first hand it falls next to his side. Finishing the second, I step aside and watch as he crumples to the floor with a satisfyingthud,face first into a pool of his own blood.
Perfect.
Bending at the knees, I reach down, grip onto his ankles and drag him out of the room, his blood leaving a trail in our wake. Taking a sharp left, his head bounces off the doorway like a pinball, and I laugh.
“Ah, shit. Sorry, did that hurt?” Looking over my shoulder, I see he now has a new cut to the side of his head, and more magnificent crimson paints the floors.
“You’re a big tough guy. You can take it,” I say, shaking my head as another dark laugh bubbles in my chest.
Fucking pathetic.
Approaching the back door of the warehouse, I lift my right foot and kick it open. Rain pours onto the concrete landing and I drag the corpse out as the heavy metal door slams shut behind me. Continuing down the steps, I walk into the forest that surrounds the ghost town our warehouse is in. Once upon a time this town used to be home to families of the textile mill workers. Wives took care of the household and raised litters of children that ran around the very place that I’m currently dragging someone to their grave. Husbands left before sunrise and bustedtheir asses for measly change, came home and ate a well-cooked meal. They put their kids to bed before going to bed themselves and repeating the same mundane process the very next day.
Sounds fucking miserable.
Anyway, one day while everyone went about their daily tasks, the mill caught on fire. No one knows how exactly–not uncommon during that time period. Not everyone made it out and the surviving men picked their families up and moved to other mill towns so they could continue to put food on the table. The families that lost their sole providers…well they stayed. Where else is a widow with eight children supposed to go? They all eventually either died off, or found somewhere else to go as their children became of working age. When there was no one left, it stayed empty. After a mill of this size burns down, it’s either left to rot into the ground, or bulldozed to rebuild upon. This place just became forgotten.
Coming up to an embankment in the woods, I stop and tug the body in front of me. Taking in a deep breath, I raise my head to the sky. Rain patters off of my face and soaks into my dark jeans and black shirt. The sandy colored strands of my hair stick to my forehead and I push them back, shaking the water out only for it to soak again. Lowering my stare to the pile of human shit at my feet I exhale, blowing the water off my lips and watching as the droplets land on…whoever the fuck this is.
Is it rude that I didn’t get his name?
I shrug to myself.
“Oh well.”
I’ve never been well mannered, or polite, why start with this prick when I was just going to gut him anyway?
Blood covers his entire body at this point, twigs and leaves stick out all throughout his hair, and a few new scratches that I didn’t put there mar his ugly mug. Completing my masterpiece.
Glorious.
Taking a second longer to admire my work–not bad if I do say so myself–I crouch at the knee and reach into his pockets. I make sure to not leave anything behind that could lead to him being identified,ifhe’s found. He won’t be, no one I bring here ever is, but just in case. After a thorough check, I bend down and lean into the dead man's ear.
“Tell Lucifer I said hi. I’m sure he’s got a special seat waiting just for you.” Raising fully, I press the bottom of my black work boot to his side, giving him a kick down the embankment. His body rolls down the slope, twigs snap under his weight and his head cracks into a few trees on the way down, forcing a smile from my lips. I watch as he careens down the slope and crashes into the river that runs along the property. The raging waters below quickly swallow the man whole and carry him downstream. I watch for a minute, making sure he doesn't resurface, and when I’m confident he won’t, I turn on my heel and make my way back to the front of the warehouse. The river is treacherous and with this place being a literal ghost town, I’m not in the least concerned about fuck face or his car being found. I’ll clean up inside tomorrow and get Cole to help get rid of douche canoe's car, but right now I have something more pressing to take care of–and I need a hot shower.
I return to my still-running Camaro, open the door, and slide into the driver’s seat. The warm air inside the cabin welcomes me and seeps into my skin. A shiver runs through me as the vents blow in my face and I shake some more water out of my hair. Reaching behind me, I pluck a towel out of the back seat and begin to dry my arms. Once they stop dripping, I lazily toss it behind me and shift to look at the passenger seat.
Her hair covers her face, her eyes closed and her breaths slow and shallow. Reaching out to her neck, I press two fingers to her pulse point to feel her heart rate has also slowed down–barely there.Fucking hell.I need to get her out of here and getsome help–fast. Pulling out my phone, I fire off a text to Elias. Normally I’d reach out to Maverick but he’s on a flight home from his most recent job.
Karson
I need your help.
Elias
Tell me what you need.
I list off a few things I need him to bring and give him an address to meet, then toss my phone onto the bench seat between the girl and me. Taking in the sight of her for just another second, I extend my hand to the side of her face. Pushing the matted strands out of her face, I rub my thumb lightly across her cheek. My breath hitches, and my eyes narrow.
“Well well well, doll. What do I do with you now?”
