Page 26 of Shadows of Obsession
“Let me make this simple: how much you lie equals how much you hurt. Choose your next words carefully.” I turn to survey my tools.
This hammer's seen better days, but it'll do the job on his kneecap.
I test its weight, rotating my wrist. The moment he spots it, his face goes green - better hurry before he redecorates my floor.
His terror's obvious, but he's still weighing silence against speaking. That bothers me.Who's he more afraid of than me?I can't help but laugh - this fool doesn't get it. Whatever monster he's seen before? Learned everything from me. Without another word, I raise the hammer over his left knee. He tries to squirm away, but this isn't my first moving target.
First, I feel the hammer's tremor when it hits bone, and my hand flexes around it, eager for a replay. I hear Tim's scream flood the basement and finally feel the peace. I've always had this feeling of complete calm, absolute silence during an interrogation.
Some would say it's my psychopathic side escaping the chains I keep it in during the rest of the days, but I don't believe there are multiple sides.
Am I a psychopath? Probably.
I want to believe there would be situations where I wouldn't enjoy taking a life, and the fact that Victoria exists in my life shows that I'm still capable of caring for someone besides myself.
I don't know why I've never had this extreme feeling of protection toward Niko as I have for Victoria, but being a man in our world, I wouldn't have done him any favors keeping him under my wing. Our father took me to a forest at fourteen, with just one knife and three traitors trying to find their way to the highway. To return home, I had to find and kill them all.
“They wouldn't hesitate if they were in your position.”
Those were his words when he saw the uncertainty in me.
I didn't need encouragement or comfort because I felt nothing. I listened to stories from different soldiers close to my age who were haunted by their first kills, but it wasn't like that for me. It was like following a script where every step was anticipated.
"Please, he'll kill me if he finds out I told you anything."
His voice snaps me back. When I look up at Tim, his face is a mess of tears, lips quivering like a child's. Blood streams from his left leg - at least my aim was perfect.
“You seem confused about something: you're not walking out of here.” I turn back to my collection.
Maybe the Gerber hunting knife...interesting.
His sobbing mixes with a new smell. Of course he's pissed himself. Typical - a man brave enough to threaten a woman aftersome vodka turns out to be the type to soil himself when facing consequences.
“Who sent you and why?”
My look should tell him my patience is running thin.
“Don't know his name. He just called himself The Smert.”
His accent butchers the Russian, but I know that word too well. Death. Smert was one of the first words I learned.
“How did he reach you?” I ask, letting the hunting knife dance through my fingers.
"I received a phone call one day. I was told to provide a prototype in exchange for money," he answers softly.
I analyze him for a few seconds, trying to see if he's lying or not. It's obvious he couldn't steal the code directly from our system. Among other protections, we have cybersecurity, so I'm not worried. Still, why this interest in this monitoring product?
I approach him slowly and see him squeezing his eyes shut and shaking his head in denial.
I love that moment when they finally get it - when they realize there's no way out. That surrender feeds something in me. I press the knife to his throat, steady.
“Why Luna?”
The question throws him - I can see it in his confused stare.
“Why Luna?” he parrots back, voice shaking.
Either he doesn't see how much that irritates me, or he's too scared to care, because he keeps talking.
