tiny & vicious || h.s ✔️

~10~

A/N Quite a dark chapter tbh....so if you're queasy or hate reading about torture than skip to end of scene note

Song- Sour Diesel by Zayn

Aria's POV

"What the fuck is this place?"

I kicked the door of the filthy shed which we were in. My gun stayed in my hold as I examined the shithouse.

"It's a shed that we presume TCC used as a hideout for a while." Louis said, appearing behind me.

The shed was located in a forest, a few feet away from a local pub. Liam and the others had caught the only worker the pub had and he was apparently very reluctant to spill any information. In fact, it was my turn to try and wrangle him.

I looked across the room to see Harry sorting through the mess, trying desperately to find a small shred of proof that Gemma and our family were here for even a second. He was in a haste and pulled at his hair in frustration when he turned over a flipped couch to find nothing but a family of ants most frequently gnawing at a piece of rotten cockroach. My hand subconsciously retracted from my side to reach for him. I wanted to help him but I knew no amount of soothing words or actions could pause what he was feeling. Nothing but the safe return of our family would finally put him at peace. But like I said, it was my time to strain the information out of our victim.

I took one last dejected glance at Harry's panicked figure before walking into the room next to us. It took an effort to get to the door through the massive pile of crap in the way but I finally grasped the chipped and detached wooden handle before heaving the door open.

There was a tiny light above the pub owner's limp body and it was clear that the gang had already took a kick out of him before I arrived. I was slightly proud at this even though I probably shouldn't have been.

The man's skin was littered in purple and blue bruises all the way up to his yellow, putrid teeth. Blood dribbled down his chin and mixed with his sweat and saliva. It created a disgusting pool of muck on the ground between his thighs. I felt sorry for anyone with innocence to see such an awful sight before them but I was the complete opposite of innocent.

Liam held a picture that he had retrieved from the security cameras in front of the man. The drive from the past month was wiped clean but through some old tapes, he managed to find a small snippet of a video which gave us enough information to move forward.

"We know you were involved with The Callous Cartel. You are with their boss Drew Marshall in this photo".

The pub owner stared blankly at the photo, not moving a muscle and I could tell Liam was struggling with getting information out of the fucker. But Liam or any of the boys never knew interrogation or torture like I did so I decided to step in.

-SKIP TO END NOTE IF YOU HATE GRUESOME STUFF-

Back in my early mafia years, father used to force me to watch him bring our enemy's life to an end in the most gruesome way possible. In the start, I detested it. The sight of carnivorous insects digging into a person's stomach or a loose tongue on the floor made me double over in sickness. But, the only thing that kept me on the brink of my seat was the merciless concept of the whole thing. We would torture them until our thirst for revenge was quenched. That's what made it interesting.

The sadistic feeling of those moments in the basement with my father rose from the depths of my stomach where I hid them and shone brightly on my face. I examined the piece of artwork before me, interested and curious as to how I could finish the masterpiece.

Then as if a lightbulb had appeared above me. I came up with a brilliant idea.

I knelt down before my nemesis's beaten face. He meekly glared at me but the short rising off his chest and the small whimpers which left his lips convinced me that we had bigger fish to fry.

"One chance, before I play your heart like a fucking accordion. Tell me what you know about The Callous Cartel" I emotionlessly peered into his eyes, watching a thick glaze of fear spread over each pupil.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about" he answered breathlessly.

My lips carved up into the same evil smirk from moments ago. It was like I had just been given permission to play with the toy that was my victim.

I bounced on my heels as I turned to the corner of the room. My hands hungrily grasped an electric drill which lay on the icy concrete floor. I scanned the tool with my eyes, drinking in the marvellous creation which I would use to draw pain from a bad man.

"Good answer" I whispered as I neared the man. His body shook as he hastily tried to move away from me. His tied hands threw powerful thrusts in a panic to get away. He shook his head vigorously with sweat and tears pouring down his face.

Treading lightly, with the loud buzz of the mechanic power tool, I drew closer to the terrified male and knelt down. It took a small effort, even none at all to pin him down against the splintered chair. I knew the broken sharp points off the wooden crap he sat on had already pierced his skin when he screamed out. That only added to the torturous pain as I brought the whirring machine down on his thigh. His nonstop yelps of pain, that could make a UCF fighter wish they were dead, fuelled my desires to hurt him. The tantalizing drill of the tool entering the tissue of his thigh and a heavy thump against the dry bone in his leg made his eyes roll into the back of his head in agony. Blood sputtered out of the wound and onto my hands.

The session went for a few more seconds which I bet felt like eons for him until the drill had dug through his bone and surfaced on the other end. It even added to the amount of splinters crushing his skin as the drill continued to pass through the already unstable chair. I couldn't stop myself even if I desperately needed to. The thought of Gemma or Anne hypothetically sitting on this chair in as much agony as this man was, made me press the nozzle harder and harder until I felt two hands on my shoulder interrupting my euphoria.

-END OF GRUESOME SCENE-

"Aria, stop" Harry's voice flitted down my ear canal and I immediately let go of the nozzle before gingerly dropping the tool and standing up as if something had burnt me.

My breath came out hard as my chest heaved. I shook my head, trying to rid of the dark side which had broken from the cage I shoved it in when I gave birth to Blair. It had been a long time since I lost control like that and I was grateful my daughter didn't have to witness it. Blair was safe and sound with Jordyn and Niall miles away as I calmed my racing heart.

"You, okay" Harry asked with concern laced in his voice. I nodded my head, once I got a hold of myself and went to sit down on the opposite side of the room.

I chugged the water Zayn had given me before hearing a loud smack echo against the walls. The sound made me jump in my seat and the water to burn my throat as I choked.

"Is this you? Hmm. Is this you, you disgusting bastard!" Harry knocked the man out of his seat, shocking us all. A painful crack of the man's skull against the concrete floor made me involuntarily wince at the sound.

Harry held a small article of paper in his hand and I could only guess what it was. He had found proof to confirm our beliefs that Gemma and the rest were here. Especially in this very room.

Red was all I could see as my mind projected an image of Theo on that chair. With a long drill painfully knocking on the flesh surrounding his bone as he screamed.

I mechanically stood up and took equally robot-like steps to the man on the chair and that's when I saw the image.

It was of Theo in a small corner, shrivelled up like a ball as he prayed and hid from his kidnappers. In the corner of the image was a large knife that made my stomach churn as it aimed directly for my nephew. I couldn't take it anymore. I pulled out my gun about to blow the brains of this shit hole when he finally spoke.

His words were faint and hard to make out but we strained our hearing to catch those meaningful words that could lead us straight to our family.

It was a series of numbers.

"51.52370.1056"