Rules are for losers who think the world needs order, then hire men like me to disrupt that order.
The hypocrisy of mankind is both interesting and repulsive.
“Last chance, Serrano.” I stand over the heap of flesh and bones. The blood runs in rivulets across the asphalt, leaving a deep trail in its wake.
Metal smell soaks the air and I would usually let it fill my lungs. People are addicted to inhaling drugs, I’m more engrossed in the smell of life leaving someone’s body and the blood abandoning their veins.
Twirling the knife in my hand, I gulp in air, filling my lungs with...piss.
The motherfucker pissed himself, ruining my bloodfest ceremony. He just had to be a fun-ruiner until the very end.
Time to wrap this clusterfuck up.
Lowering myself to my haunches, I point the tip of my bloodied knife at his half-carved cheek. There’s something about ruining people’s faces, disfiguring them, making them as imperfect as their sombre little souls.
Like Serrano here. He acts like a good little accountant but is in fact the greatest scum of them all.
He tried to fight, I give him that, but it’s futile, isn’t it?
Judging by his two broken legs and the blood dripping from his arms, chest, and face, he didn’t have a chance. I would’ve told him that, but I might have wanted the fight.
“Ser,” I tsk, drawing my knife down his cheek. “Didn’t they teach you in Harvard that a dog can’t steal from his master?”
“P-please, Jasper…” he gurgles. Chocking on one’s own fluid is a curious sound, almost as satisfying as the screams. Almost.
“They should’ve also taught you not to beg your grim reaper.” I cock my head down. “Spoiler alert, it never works.”
“L-let me talk to Costa, I-I—”
“Ser, Ser, you’re kind of an idiot, aren’t you? Not only do you steal from Costa, but you also think he has the time to talk to a thief?”
The pleading, pathetic look leaves his middle-aged face and deep darkness shines beneath.
The moment they realize they’re done for and should show their true colors is one of my favorite moments. It’s when they’re at their truest form. The decimation of the human mind, screwing it up, fucking it over, is what I live for.
From his position on the ground, on his stomach, both his hands bound behind his back, Serrano lifts his bloodied face to snarl at me. “Is that why he sent his animal?”
I grin, the first actual emotion I showed him since we started our torture fest. Serrano thinks it’s an insult, but Serrano has always been a fucking idiot, good with numbers, useless with people.
“Exactly.” I lift the knife, letting the blood droplets fall on his non-swollen eye. “An animal is only worth an animal, don’t you think?”
He blinks against the drip but doesn’t change his stance. “A-always the dog, never the master, Jasper.”
“Riddle me this, Ser, isn’t the dog the one who gets the most fun from the hunt?”
“That’s w-what all dogs think.”
This is getting boring, with the smell of piss, it’s becoming irritating, too. I stab my knife into his shoulder, and Serrano wails like a schoolgirl. “This is your last chance to tell me where the money is before I pay a visit to your wife and daughter. I’m curious to see how long I have to carve them up, dog style.”
The bravery from earlier disappears, leaving a complete trembling mess behind, blood dripping, eyes swollen, legs broken.
A useless dog.
I knew threatening his family would get me the response I needed, and that’s why I kept it for last. It’s the fun-ruiner, the fight-breaker.
Humans with weaknesses are the easiest to smash. They’re ruthless animals on the field, but they leave liabilities behind for people like me to feast on.
Serrano tells me everything I need through clenched, crimson-painted teeth. The location of the money, the people who helped him. Everything.
He doesn’t even beg anymore. We’ve been acquaintances for more than ten years. He should know begging never works with me, not when my knife is out, ready to carve up some faces.
After he’s done, I straighten up and snatch back my blade, causing a burst of blood to rip from his shoulder. He still has blood to spare. Interesting.
“A-Are you going to hurt them?” He stares up at me.
That weakness again. He’s forgotten all about himself and is begging for mercy for his little cubs.
“Depends on how much of that money they spent.” I tilt my head to the side. “But you won’t be here to