The Accountant

The thick chains hanging from the solid concrete walls filled the entirety of the room with synonymous sounds and 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 protests. The front of his pants darkened.

Dominic snarled in disgust.

men held the traitor down before securing the black

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.

his woman lying on a coma due to this man's greed, uncontrollable rage filled his

changed my mind." The fear in the bastard's swollen beady eyes gave him satisfaction. They were just

***

the 12 by 16 dimensions of the prison cell, with steel and brick walls and one solid barred door, no

dripping from his face and naked torso

his forehead down to

satisfaction. Seeing as how the traitor fared

Daniel's blood coated and unrecognizable body. The dermis, beneath the epidermis, showed tiny connective tissues, his dotted hair follicles, and the extremely

to blacked-out

will watch your bosses die before I cut you

dragging to Dominic was an old friend of his father. One of the senior CEOs of their chain of hotels and resorts. A wolf in a sheep's clothing. He and his nine other accomplices have been robbing the

social standing, security, and everything they had asked. His family has served their underbosses well. They repaid by making a fool

shame the other five had escaped, anticipating this event. No matter, they would be found even if they run and hide

him. On his knees, he looked pitiful. Dominic

Samuel's plan. I wasn't part of it. I

didn't give a damn on who's done what. Even their whys were not significant. His

on his chin as he forced

die tonight. Rot in hell!" The pointy end pierced down his chin towards his epiglottis immediately cutting his air supply. He gurgled and choked on his blood. Not satisfied,

dying, thrashing

quick. We still have

long night and he

high time to

***

The General

Alec

violent and brutal. That paled in