Pick a number

Chapter 3

Christina's POV

"Another victory," Josh says as he places a crime's newspaper on my office desk. I look at it's front page and am not surprised when I see my image on it. The headline reads, "Crime Lord of Slotchen wins another world, making her one with the most crime worlds in this city." I smile as I relax into my chair. "You know, with all these victories and lands you now possess, I might just start calling you the Grand Crime President," he jokes. I chuckle at his usual humour. " Don't even think about it," I jokingly warn him. He sits down across my desk, his expression suddenly serious. I sit forward and get serious. I know this look, something's gone wrong. "What is it?" I ask him in a demanding tone. He looks up at me and sighs. "The guards caught someone on your premises, an intruder. He's been around for a week now. They suspect that he is a spy because of the things they found on him," he finally says in worry. "A spy huh? And where is this spy right now?" I ask him calmly as I sit back comfortably on my office chair. "They put him in one of the interrogation rooms. Had him locked up and tied on a chair," he says. I look at him then at my wristwatch. I still have time. "Well then," I say as I stand. "Guess it's time to have a little fun hey mate," I continue with a mischievous smile. Josh looks at me and grins.

(An hour later)

I look at the guy and smirk, my eyes darkening as I watch his sweaty body and now wet clothes. Josh comes in and places a long rectangular box on a table next to the door. There are two guards in here as well. I walk to Josh and watch with amusement as he opens the box. I have different box weapons but this is one of my favourites. I have them all arranged in a numerical sequence. "Nice," I say as I look at the guy. " You're so gonna love these," I tell him as I watch him panting heavily as he has given up trying to free himself. They had his hands tied up at the back of the chair with chains, so the struggling pretty much hurt his wrists. His fault, not mine. I turn my gaze to Josh. "Thanks Short gun, you all may leave us now," I say as I focus my eyes on the weapons. I enjoy being alone with my victims during every torture. People are more scared of what they don't know than what they do, so I know that finding the victim already dead is more frightening than having to sit through the torture for these people. They all exit the room, leaving me alone with the guy. I switch off the big light and turn on a small lamp on the table so that only a small light is sparkling in the room. "I hope you're not afraid of the dark," I say to him, knowing that he cannot respond since his mouth is taped shut. I have seven small boxes in the big one. Box one has a rope going along with a hammer, box two has a sawed shortgun, box three has an iron rod, box four has a hammer and a bunch of nails, box five has a carving knife, box six has a ballistic knife and box seven has a pistol.  I walk to the guy and gently remove his tape, his eyes are wide open and I can smell his fear. "Name," I demand, my features darkening. "Mike," he whimpered. I frowned. This is an amateur. This will be faster than I thought. "Okay Mike, nice to meet you. Do you know who I am?" I ask him as I lower myself to his level, my arms holding my upper body up as my hands rest on my knees. He nods his head so hard that if his neck was made of rubber, then it would've broken off by now. "Good, good. Next time I ask you a question though, you answer with your words," I say calmly as I stand upright and walk back to the table with weapons. "Do you love games?" I ask him as I run my eyes over the weapons. "No," he responds, his voice cracking due to fear. "Argh man, that's a shame. I love games. Guess I'll have to enjoy this one alone then," I say with a smile as I sense his eyes on me. "Please let me go, I swear I didn't do anything," he begs. I roll my eyes. "I have some toys here. Now, there are no rules in this game. You pick a number from numbers one to seven, whatever toy is on the box number you have chosen will be used in the game," I explain to him as I bore my eyes into his fearful ones. "What?" he asks in confusion. I breath out in slight frustration. "Just pick a number Mike," I tell him in annoyance. I hate dealing with amateurs.  "Six?" he responds, the response coming out more as a question than an answer. "Six it is then," I say as I pick up the ballistic knife from it's box. "You know, this is small, but the damage that it can do is incredibly amazing," I say as I walk to Mike, his eyes open in fear as he starts struggling to break free again. "Now," I say quietly as I stand infront of him. "I ask a question, you give me an honest answer. Failure to do this will push me into using this toy. Now, I don't want this game to get physical, but if you don't start singing the notes I want to hear, then I'm gonna have to cut out your useless vocal cords," I slowly explain to him. He gulps then nods. "Who sent you here?" I ask him, my eyes not moving from his. "No one," he says, his brows scrunching first before he responds. I roughly push the knife into his left thigh then take it out while he screams out loud in pain. "Mike, I don't have all day, the sooner you start talking, the better for you. Are you ready to talk?" I ask him, my voice still calm. He nods repeatedly and I smile. "Good. Now, who sent you here?" I ask him once more. "Diamond, Diamond sent me," he cries out. I frown. "The lord of the Juniors world?" I  ask him, not at all amused with who his leader is. He nods. "Why? What does she want and what is she planning?" I ask him as I play with the knife by flipping it. "She sent me to get info on your new world, the Drillers world. She wants it for herself," he confesses, tears staining his face. I walk back to the table. "Anything else?" I ask him as I put the knife on the table. Mike shakes his head no. I smile. "Alright. Pick your last number," I command him. "Please let me go, I've told you all I know," he begs. I sigh in annoyance. "A number Mike, pick a number," I say in an annoyed tone. He gulps. "Seven," he responds. I smile. "Nice one. Now tell me your favourite number," I demand as I pick up the pistol. "Three," he responds. "Three it is then," I say as I aim the gun at his chest and fire it three times. He shakes a bit before his body goes still. I grab one of the wet towels on the table and use it to wipe my hands as I walk to the door. I exit the room to find two guards standing right outside the door like usual. "Clean up this mess," I command them as I throw the towel into a bin and walk away.