Crisis Of War

{ LXIX }

{TRIGGER WARNING! EXPLICIT CONTENT! DO NOT READ IF YOU CAN'T HANDLE IT, THANK YOU! Otherwise, enjoy!} 

I close the door behind me and slowly turn around, noticing Hunter moving in the corner of the room. 

Since Marco left a few hours ago, I have been trying my best to stay away from the basement. Because I knew I would get angry and maybe even kill Hunter, but I can't help it. 

I need to make him hurt more, he deserves to hurt more. 

'You're back already?' He asks with a sinister grin on his face. 

The urge to kill him increases as quickly as the blood pumping through my heart right now. 

'Missed me that much?' He continues, tilting his head a little.

He's hurting, but he would much rather mock me for still being alive than contain his energy. 

'I mean, it's barely been what? Two hours.' I slept for over three hours, so that's impossible. 

'You've been dreaming of me.' I say, glaring right at him, 'Because you're imagining things.' 

'Maybe I was?' He chirps, tilting his head the other way as he smiles proudly, 'Maybe I was dreaming about you watching me.' 

'Watching you.' I repeat, gritting my teeth as he chuckles to himself. 'Yes, watching me as I kiss your wife.'

Despite him still bleeding from the fresh bruises and cuts from yesterday, I shove my fist against his cheek. 

'As I fuck the shit out of her.' I strike again and again, wanting to kill him even more and more with every word coming out of his mouth. 

Blood splatters out of his mouth and nose, 'As I make her mine!' 

I hit again and take a step back to kick him against the wall, leaving him breathless and heaving on the floor. 

'I should kill you.' Not just for talking to Valentina, my wife, but also because of Leon. 

Hunter groans as he looks up at me again, blood dripping out of his nose into his mouth, 'I thought Leya was going to kill me.' 

'If you say something about her again, I'll hurt you even more.'  

He chuckles as much as that's possible and shakes his head wearily. 

'She was happy with me.' I shove my fist against his face again, kind of wishing that he would just die because of it. 

But at the same time, I want him to hurt. I want him to suffer as much as possible. 

'Shut up.' He groans and spits his blood at me, but he has barely enough strength and it falls on his own chest. 

'What do you want?' He groans, leaning his back against the wall, his arms still chained just above his head. 'Answers.' 

His grin only widens and it's making me want to shove my fist so far down his fucking throat- 'I already told you.'