Torture

[Warning: Painful content. Continue at your discretion]

"Who are you?" Del asked as he struggled himself to get out of the chair. 

"Who am I? They call me the executioner." He giggled. 

Del shivered as he heard the name. He needed to be careful. One, he could be from the intelligence agencies and this was all a test and Cassandra was bluffing. Or second, and much worse, this was actually Recker's goon. 

The man stood there and walked to the desk. He picked up something silver, and it was big, very big. It was a heavy wrench. He held it firmly with his left hand and he swung it to Del's face. His eyes were gouging out, his mouth was disfigured.

His jaw was bleeding. "That's for Andrea. Do you know who you are messing with, Moore?"