Leon circled slow, double-breasted suit pristine amid the mess, crescent moons on his cuffs catching light as he drove a knee into Volker's gut. Air whooshed out in a bloody gurgle, Volker doubling over, chains yanking him back upright like a marionette.
Ren stood silent, gloved hands folded, but his smile was serpentine — waiting his turn, eyes gleaming with quiet sadism.
Vernon was standing behind Kai, face blank but pulse thundering in his ears, suit whispering against his thighs.
"What happened?"
Kai's gaze turned — slow, piercing — locking on Vernon like a blade finding throat.
"He was working for the Shadow Reckoning."
Vernon's heart slammed — once, brutal, ribs cracking under the force.
*…She was also…*
Kai's voice stayed even — calm as death, but laced with that deadly undercurrent that made men piss themselves.
"He betrayed us. I'm startled by his audacity."
Vernon lowered his head, jaw locked, mind a whirlwind of ice and fire. *If they know about her… God, if they know…*
Kai paused — letting the words hang like a noose, eyes never leaving Vernon's face.
"There's a girl."
Vernon's pulse roared — anxiety clawing up his throat, vision tunneling to black spots. *No. No no no—*
"Among the girls. She's with him."
Vernon's heart pounded so hard it felt like it would rip free — ribs splintering, blood surging hot and thick, lungs seizing.
He understood instantly. Ira. If they knew — oh God, if they knew — they'd do something horrible. Unimaginable. Break her body, her mind, her soul in ways that left no pieces to bury. No mercy. No end. Just endless, screaming agony until she begged for death.
Lucas whipped Volker again — leather singing, flesh parting with a wet rip that echoed like tearing cloth. Blood arced in a fine mist, splattering the wall. Volker convulsed, scream dissolving into wet coughs, body sagging against chains.
"Tell us who the girl is!" Lucas bellowed, face flushed red with exertion and glee, suit jacket flecked with gore like he'd painted it himself. "Spill it, you piece of shit, or I'll flay your balls next!"
Kai leaned forward slightly — voice silk over steel, eyes boring into Volker like hot pokers.
"Where's the chip?"
Volker gasped — blood bubbling on his lips, body shuddering, eyes rolling white with shock.
"I… don't know… about any chip…"
Kai's eyes narrowed — fractionally, deadly.
"Okay, boys. Cut his manhood."
"Yeah!" The monster boys laughed — savage, excited.
Anton screamed — high, panicked.
"No! No! Please — it's inside the locker!"
He jerked his head toward a rusted metal locker bolted to the wall near the pond — dented, paint chipped, padlock hanging open.
Kai glanced at Victor.
"Bring it."
Victor strode over — yanked the locker open.
Moments of suspense — thick, choking.
Victor returned — holding a small black chip between thumb and forefinger.
He tossed it to Kai.
Kai caught it — turned it over once — looked almost impressed.
Then he looked down at Anton — calm, deadly.
"Who is the girl?"
Anton sobbed — shaking, bleeding.
"I don't know her well… she was wearing a black mini dress…"
"A black mini dress," Kai whispered.
Vernon's heart thundered — so loud he thought they could hear it.
Lucas grinned — feral.
"Should we bring all the girls in black mini dresses?"
Vernon's anxiety spiked — white-hot, suffocating.
*They'll find her.*
*They'll drag her out.*
*They'll—*
Kai stayed quiet for several long seconds — letting the threat hang.
Then — calm:
"Are all the members done having fun?"
Lucas laughed — rough.
"No — they're still slamming hard! Fucking like animals in other buildings."
Kai averted his gaze — looked toward a distant building.
"Let them enjoy," he said softly. "Let our boys have all the fun they should have without any interruption."
A beat.
"We'll find the girl later."
Vernon's heart stuttered — relief crashing through him like a wave.
Ren flicked his cigarette away.
"And what about this fucker?"
Kai's voice stayed calm.
"Castrate him."
Anton screamed — high, broken, pleading.
"No! No please no I beg you—"
"Yeah!" Lucas whooped, dropping the whip with a clatter, grabbing a rusty utility knife from the floor — blade nicked and dull, handle wrapped in frayed electrical tape stained brown.
Victor laughed — manic, delighted — pinning Volker's arms behind him, muscles bulging under his velvet-sheen suit.
Damon and Leon hauled Volker's legs apart — wide, merciless — pants ripping at the seams, exposing pale, trembling thighs slick with sweat and blood.
Ren watched, gloved fingers twitching like he itched to join.
Volker's eyes bulged — terror raw, animal, piss staining his pants dark.
"No — no! Please! God, no — I beg you! I'll tell you everything — anything!"
The men didn't listen.
Lucas knelt — knife flashing in morning light — and sawed into the waistband of Volker's pants, ripping the fabric open with a jagged tear.
Exposed flesh — soft, vulnerable, twitching.
Volker thrashed, chains rattling like bones in a grave, screams turning to shrieks as the blade bit — slow at first, deliberate, then vicious.
Skin parted with a wet schlick. Blood gushed hot and dark, soaking thighs, splattering Lucas's hands and cuffs.
Tendons snapped like guitar strings. A low, guttural moan escaped Volker as the knife worked deeper — twisting, pulling — the severed length coming away in a slick, twitching handful, arteries spurting in rhythmic arcs that painted the concrete red.
Volker collapsed — whimpering, shock setting in, body convulsing as blood pumped from the ruin between his legs, soaking the floor in a widening lake.
His eyes rolled back, mouth gaping in silent agony, piss and blood mingling in the puddle beneath him.
Kai's face stayed motionless — not a flicker, not a twitch. Just cold, absolute control.
Vernon's heart raced — bile rising, vision blurring at the edges.
He had to get her out. Now. Before they pieced it together. Before they turned that brutality on her — flaying her skin, breaking her bones, making her beg until her voice gave out.
He turned — fast, silent — back to the corridor, suit whispering against his thighs.
Kai's gaze followed him — sharp, knowing — lingering on the closing door for a long, deliberate moment.
As if he already suspected everything.
To be continued.....