Page 38 of The Bratva’s Monster

“No.”

I grab him by the hair and yank his head to one side, slicing through his ear. The sizzle of the blade against flesh, the smell of it burning, the sound of his rising scream…

The bloody remains of his ear rolls down his face and lands on his shoulder. I take it and toss it to the floor, then I use the burning knife to carve away the rest of his outer ear as he screams and struggles under me.

When the ear is gone and he’s leaning forward, whimpering through hard breaths, I ask him, “Who sent you here?”

“Please,” he begs. “Please, I’ll do any⁠—”

I slap him and his head rocks to the side. I grab his hair and work on the other ear. The blade has cooled some, so it doesn’t cut as easily. I have to saw his skin to get through the cartilage.

He squeals like a pig under the pressure. Once the ear is off, I step back and say, “I won’t be asking you again as I don’t like to repeat myself.” I walk back to the stove, tossing the knife in the sink as I pass by. He’s weeping openly now. “But I won’t be moving on either. The longer you stall from answering, the more pieces of you that I take.”

“I-I can’t,” he cries. “He’ll kill me… Please, he’ll kill me…”

“That’s an interesting problem you have,” I say as I heat up the butcher knife. “Because it’s looking pretty likely that I’m going to kill you too.” I let the knife get red hot again, then I turn to him. “Next are your fingers.”

“Stefan!” he sputters. “S-Stefan. Fucking, fucking Russians, please! For the love of God!”

He’s screaming and sputtering, tears streaming down his face. I walk over to him and bring the butcher knife down on his hand, severing his first and second fingers. The scream he lets loose is raw and unfettered. No thought, no pretention, just raw terror and pain.

I take off two more fingers on the other hand as the blade cools. I have to saw it back and forth between the knuckles to get the flesh to give. He screams for a moment, then stops, breathing hard, his eyes bugging out of his head. On top of the heavy smell of burning flesh is the smell of urine. I glance down to see a dark spot spreading in his pants. Time for the next question.

“What were you looking for?” I ask him.

“I don’t know. I, I don’t… I wasn’t… Oh, my God, please, no. NO!”

I bring the knife down on his wrist, severing the hand. The blade’s cooled, so this time, nothing is cauterized. A splash of blood leaps up and covers my hand. I walk away, tossing the bloodied knife into the sink with the other one.

The sound of a muffled cry grabs my attention. I look over at the doorway to see Liz standing there, tears streaming down her face, her hands over her mouth. Her eyes dart to me, shaking and full of fear.

And now she knows exactly who I am. Maybe she saw me as a protector, a soldier, perhaps even as the beast she called me while I fucked her at the hotel. Right now, she understands. I am all of those things, but I am also a weapon. I am the flash of light before the destruction of the world.

She turns and rushes out. I hear her feet padding away in the hallway and my cold anger shifts. There is more than one person who needs to answer some questions…

I grab the remaining knife and follow her down the hall.

“Liz,” I call after her. I see her silhouette as it emerges into the yellowish light of her living room. She freezes, but her knees are shaking.

As I approach, she turns to me. “You… you didn’t have to do all that.”

I glare down at her incredulously. “It was an interrogation.”

“It was torture,” she hisses at me. “And you were getting off on it.”

“Who the fuck do you think I am, Liz?” I step up to her and she takes several steps back, keeping the space between us. “Did you think this whole time that they call me a monster for nothing? Don’t you understand yet that I am a remorseless killer?”

She stares, anger and confusion written all over her face, then she stands up a little taller and says, “You don’t know who sent him or why. What’s the point of all this if he’s not going to tell you⁠—”

“Are you deaf? He just said Stefan⁠—”

“He could be lying! He probably is lying! He’ll say just about anything to stop you from hurting him!”

“What do you care so much for anyway, huh? You seem awful interested in what happens to some random asshole who broke into your house.” I lean into her as her jaw clenches. “You think I’m stupid enough not to wonder why you’re standing there crying for one of Stefan’s weak as shit flunkies? Maybe those rumors about you are true, after all.”

“How fucking dare you,” she says through clenched teeth, her eyes tearing up again. “I would never⁠—”

“Never what? Betray Gedeon? You already crossed that line when you came like a bitch in heat on my dick⁠—”