Chapter 79 Seventy Nine
OWEN WINTERS
I walked into the basement where I normally killed people, my face, void of emotions, and my hands cold. I remembered father's instructions clearly, “Don't give the bastard a quick death.”
I smirked wondering what ‘the bastard’ had committed. Although I was made heir to the Winters, father still ran the organization, and he wasn't planning to quit anytime soon. That didn't really bother me one bit because once I became don, a lot of things were going to change including my love life. It was better to enjoy the little things now.
I pushed open the door to the room where the so-called bastard knelt, hands and legs tied. His skin shone in the light and his smooth face, thin lips, doe eyes and the way he styled his hair told me he was a foreigner.
“What do we have here?” I asked rhetorically, as my men untied him. His clothes were clean, which meant father gave him to me without touching him — he must be growing old.
“Please, have mercy. Please!” The young man pleaded, but I only laughed. They all begged after committing crime.
“What's your name?” I asked in French, walking towards him.
The young man whimpered, tears pouring from his eyes. “What's your name?” I asked again cupping his chin in my palm. He looked up at me, his brown eyes staring into my soul.
“Alicio,” he muttered, his chest stopped heaving, and his breath steadied. “I'm Owen. Owen Winters,” I said, letting my hands drop to my side.
Alicio’s eyes widened as soon as my name left my lips. His lips quivered, and the tears increased.
“What did you do?” I asked signalling for my men to let him go. Alicio dropped to the floor.
“I'm innocent… I was just following orders… please!” He squirmed, whimpering like I did anything to him. If only he knew what was coming for him, he'd brace himself.
I chuckled loudly, making him glance up at me, his brown eyes glassy with tears.
“The same way I'm following orders, sweetheart,” I said, bringing out my gun and playing with the magazine. He shuddered at the sight of the gun.
“I have something I want to try, do you want me to experiment on you?” I asked pointing the unloaded gun at him. Alicio nodded and my men carried him up to his feet.
I'd bet everything I had that Alicio would not survive what I was about to do. “Bring in the glass box,” I instructed and my men obeyed.
A few minutes later, the box arrived, it was shaped like a coffin, only bigger, there were no holes and everything was tightly sealed. I smirked, gesturing to them to put him in.
To my surprise, Alicio willingly entered the box, and my men shut it. The box rose slowly until it hovered just beneath the ceiling. Then, it began to swing— back and forth, like death hanging on a thread.
I watched in amazement at the change in expression and desperation.
Alicio stood in the box looking around for even the tiniest hole for oxygen. I watched as his breathing increased, every air he breathed in went back out, and into him again. He was hyperventilating, panic setting in. Then he started banging on the glass, his nails clawing at it begging for oxygen even if it were a little.
I saw as his skin produced sweat, the way his nose flared and how his eyes rotated.
“How weak,” I muttered watching with interest at how slow a person died. At how lack of air affected once mental and physical state.
Humans were weak.
Alicio trembled, his lips and finger tips were turning blue, he probably couldn't tell his surroundings, that's if he could even sense it. His temperature increased as his heart pounded quickly. His muscles twitched and the banging decreased.
“Air…”
“What?!” I asked, he stammered and when he went on his knees, I knew it was time to let him out.
I instructed my men and the glass was brought down and opened. Alicio stumbled to the ground grateful for the gift of oxygen. He stayed put for a while as his body rejuvenated. I waited.
A few minutes passed and he was back to normal after splashing water on him occasionally. “You’re breathing again?” I asked, and he sensed the pity in my voice because he nodded.
Wrong move.
“Put him back in the glass,” I commanded, grinning sinisterly.
“Please… no… not again, please!” He screamed as they dragged him back into the glass.
“Just kill me already!” He muttered as the glass door shut.
To avoid all the gore details, Alicio survived after the third round which was quite surprising. He wasn't weak anyways and I was getting bored.
He knelt on the ground, hands chained, eyes drooping and pants soaked. He reeked of vomit and fluid.
“What are you going to do to me now, you psycho?” Alicio asked weakly, already giving up on life. I would've given him that peaceful death he wanted so badly if my so-called men weren't spies for my father.
“Now, I'll ask again, Alicio-” I said softly rubbing his sweat-soaked hair with my gloved hands.
Alicio winced, too tired to cry, but I wanted the tears to fall so I pulled his hair and continued, “What crime did you commit?”
A drop of tear fell from his left eye, and his face was red and bloated. “I'm innocent… I was ordered to steal something from the Winters… I promise… I promise I wasn't informed it was the Winters property… I …”
The so-called bastard, Alicio had stolen from us and that was why father wanted him to have a slow death? I scoffed already feeling guilty, but my hands were tied — they were always tied.
“Who sent you?” I inquired and he whimpered hiccupping. He needed water.
“The… hiccup… they're already… hiccup… they're already dead…” he stuttered gasping for breath.
I sighed, father had killed them already and left me to deal with a helpless boy.
“So how should I kill you?” I asked without expecting an answer, but he spoke, “I know I'll die… hiccup… but … make it quick…” I smiled wickedly knowing I wasn't going to give him the death he wanted so easily.
Bringing out a bag of knives, I went through them. It was hard finding the best one for his body so I let my index finger decide. It scanned through them, cut after cut until I felt one that stinged like an ant bite. I grinned. The right one for his fine body.
I brought out the knife, it took the shape of a sickle, but the edge was triangular like an arrow head.
“Please… please!” He begged for mercy dragging the chain as I inched closer.
Suddenly, something in my pocket vibrated. I looked down at it as the screen came on. My phone.
Taking it out, I answered the call without looking at the caller ID.
“Hello” I said irritated that someone distracted me from my work.
“Owen.”
A genuine smile creeped to my lips. Amy called. “Hey, pumpkin, what's wrong?” I inquired, going back to the table and placing the knife carefully on it.
“Nothing much, I'm just lonely and the baby misses you,” she said. I chuckled.
“I'll be there before you take another breath,” I assured and hung up.
One look at Alicio, I knew he thought he'd survive. Walking back to him, I assessed his body language, expression and stability. “You know what this is called?”
He shook his head though I was talking to myself. “Saved by the bell even though you'll still end up dead,” I completed loading my gun.
I gazed into his brown eyes, and smiled.
“Say hi to the devil for me.”
Kill.
Blood splattered on my face when I shot. I stared at his lifeless body for a while then turned to leave. But before I left, I removed my gloves, washed my face, and sprayed my usual cologne. Amy would freak out if she saw blood all over me.
“Take him away,” I instructed and walked out of the basement, a soft smile playing on my lips.
I'll be home soon, pumpkin.