The Accountant

12. Partial Payback

Trigger Warning
Rated 18+
Please be guided.

Dominic

The thick chains hanging from the solid concrete walls filled the entirety of the room with synonymous sounds and the rhythm of the chimes. Only this time, this signified death and not serenity. It was likewise fucking calming to The Butcher's salivating demon.

Anyone who was observing him right this second will be mistaken by the way he carried himself.

Too jolly and too relaxed. A thin superficial layer concealing the devil within. The one who enjoyed playing with the blood of the enemies.

"So, which one would like to go first?" His dark chuckles made all the captives whimper in fear behind the black cloths covering every inch of their heads down to their shoulders. The fuckers had recognized his voice.

His amused gaze found a man in the same state, however, his back faced him. The prisoner's limbs quivered from the strain of the pulling chains.

-Ah, the rat.-

Specially bound for the tzar's amusement.

"Tsk. Tsk. Daniel Mills." The former employee cocked his head to the side to hear Dominic better. He began to talk behind his encumbered head. "What? I can't hear you. Speak up!"

Muffled and incoherent words reached Dominic once more.
-Oh, I see.-

Realizing the problem. The chained man couldn't talk because he was gagged as well.

-My bad.-

Dominic lifted his chin to one of his men. They complied and removed the black cloth and gag.

The traitor blinked rapidly and groaned from the harsh light directed at him. When his blurry eyes landed on Dominic's aggressive form, he began to sob. "Boss...please... I didn't know. Please...don't...kill me."

"Kill you? I won't. Why would you think that?" Murmuring gently in response, fleshy lips flattened in thoughts. The tzar's casual steps brought him to a secure panel. He punched in a series of codes, it beeped and slowly opened to reveal trays of weapons, displayed for Dominic's personal use. Perfect. It had been a while but he had not forgotten.

All types of specially made knives were displayed and arranged perfectly before him, from fixation Bowies, authentic katanas, bolos, Gerber, and...

-Ah, this one.-

He slowly raised his glinting Obsidian knives. The thinnest blades one could ever find were three nanometres wide at the edge – 10 times sharper than a razor blade. These were made by flaking a long, thin sliver from a core of the volcanic glass.

This was perfect!

"Prepare him." He instructed without turning his head, knowing his men will know what to do. He critically examined each piece to make sure it will work on the flesh like butter.

"No! Please...no!" The prisoner cried in protest. The front of his pants darkened.

Dominic snarled in disgust.

Alec and two other men held the traitor down before securing the black leather stirrups.

"If you tell where the others are hiding, I can give you mercy and skin you half awake, if not, I will do it with all your wits about you." Shrugging out of his jacket and his white pristine shirt, Dominic rolled his shoulder blades, muscles bunching. Beau was the only one who can ruin all his clothes, no one else.

At the thought of his woman lying in a coma due to this man's greed, uncontrollable rage filled his body.

"No mercy. I changed my mind." The fear in the bastard's swollen beady eyes gave him satisfaction. They were just starting.