Chapter 19- Who Sent You?

～⁠♡～

The screams bouncing off the cement wall were starting to get a tad annoying for Rafael.

He could use a whole night torturing these damn souls for daring to harm his precious Luna, but, fortunately for them, he didn't have that luxury since he needed to leave early tomorrow to handle important matters in Aleyska.

Else…

However, he needed some answers, but what can he do when these losers are busy whining and shitting in their pants to give him a coherent response? He won't lie, killing was a primal instinct he loved indulging himself in, more like an obsession… which is why he does absolutely everything he can to tame that side of him.

He felt good when he killed Andrew, better even, but tonight, he was starting to get a little impatient with all three whiny bitches. It was nearly impossible to believe they were the ones who held a gun earlier today.

"From one to ten, how much do you value your eyes?" Leaning towards the leader who had been bound to a chair, Rafael's blade was pointed directly at his left eye, "shhhh, if you aggravate me with those ugly noises, I will plunge this blade into your eyeball, and believe me when I say, it's going to hit hilt-deep."

As his blade neared the targeted eye, the man instinctively closed his eyes and shrunk in his seat. Tears flowed freely from his closed eyelids, and he was defenseless against this demon in front of him.

"I told you already man!" He cried, "someone hired us to kill the lady. We never saw her face, it was all arranged through phone calls. We just had to get the job done and get our cash, we don't wanna be tangled in your problems!"

"So what you're saying is, you're useless to me?" Rafael's blade inched closer to his closed eye, and the other gunman tied beside his boss spat in Rafael's direction.

He had gotten tired and sick of the strange man's endless torture and twisted sentence. He yelled from the pit of his lungs.

"WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU TO THREATEN US?"

His red eyes were boiling with fear and untamed fury, "what's your business with that woman, so what if we tried to kill her! Is she your lover or something? Huh? Your fuck buddy? Why do you care so much about that woman, she's not any different from the fishes out there! She is just a cursed cunt, and you freaking know it!"

He dared to laugh, and Rafael slowly retreated from the leader. The wind shifted, and the one with a loose mouth had stopped cackling when the blade in Rafael's hand was plunged hilt-deep to his throat, and blood sprayed over Rafael's face.

He was dressed in his all black, with the same face cap and a nose mask. The skin before his eyes were stained with blood, and the victims eyes displayed fear when he noticed Rafael's pupils spark with a strange yellow, like a different person had emerged, and even with his face obscured by the nose mask and cap, the man could tell that he was smiling from within.

He twisted the blade inside the man's throat and whispered softly into his ear, "you… said things I don't like, you made her sound like a toy. Don't– don't ever do that." he warned, still twisting the blade only to pull it out with a swift motion.

Blood flowed like a tap from the man's throat, drenching his shirt, and the life in his eyes was snuffed out. There was an intense silence after the remaining two gunmen witnessed the cruelty inflicted on their partner, and the gunman who was at the right side of the leader literally peed in his pants from fear.

Rafael returned to the leader and continued from where he stopped.

"As I was saying, are you claiming that you're useless to my aid?" He tilted his head questioningly, those eyes staring into the ghostly soul of the leader, and the man had begun his charade.

"Please," he pleaded, trying his best not to cry, "I- I only know her name, I only know her name."

"Less crying, more talking. Poor thing, we're almost there." Rafael encouraged, urging him to spill the name while also using the bloodied blade to shave off the man's eyebrows.

Sweat dripped from his forehead, mixing with the blood on his face, and he cringed away from the knife.

"It was Clara Smith." He confessed, making Rafael pause in the middle of his eyebrow shaving, "she wanted us to eliminate Pollyanna Zendelle, I think she's some daughter of a renowned family, but that's all I know, I promise!"

"Clara Smith?" Rafael withdrew his blade from the man's eyebrow, taken aback by the name.

Isn't that the name of the human who was in a secret relationship with Andrew?

Turning his back on them, Rafael groaned when the whole thing finally made sense. He faced the leader again, giving him a pat on the shoulder he had already dislocated.

"A-ah!!" the man yelped in pain, and Rafael calmly retreated.

"It's over now, thanks man." He said, as if he wasn't the one who had been torturing the living daylights out of both gunmen. Their arms were dislocated, they had stabs in places that weren't vital, but only because he needed them alive, and their feet… well…

Due to how calm and unnerving Rafael's voice turned out after getting the name he wanted, hope resurfaced in the leader's eyes. He glanced at his partner who was also shocked by the fact that they weren't dead yet, and they were thankful to have just spilled the truth before it was too late.

"Are you letting us go?" For confirmation, the leader asked Rafael who met his gaze, and he seemed to think about it before nodding his head.

"You can leave, but you have to make it out of that door in five minutes." He dropped his knife on an iron tray containing other tools he had used to torture them with. He was so focused on getting the blood-soaked gloves from his hands, he didn't mind the alarm in their voice when they asked.

"F–five minutes?"

"Four minutes now." He uttered, "you have four minutes to make it to that door, and your survival for the rest of eternity is guaranteed. After four minutes, my men will walk in here, and I don't like leaving any evidence behind unless necessary. Everything in here will be cleaned out, discarded, burned, chopped— whatever it takes to get rid of it."

Upon hearing this, the two men tried to stand up, but they met the ground with their chairs still bound to them. Rafael tsked and glanced at his wrist watch.

"Three minutes." He grabbed his bag pack and turned to leave the warehouse.

"Wait! Help us! Help us!" Their cries were silenced when Rafael shut the door in their faces, and his assassins were outside the door as instructed, waiting for him to give the orders.

Rafael saw no need to let them live. Their criminal records are quite high and infuriating, and aside from killing countless children and women, they ship hard drugs to specific mafias. Sell children to them, and yet they dare to plead for mercy.

How can he let those bastards continue living with all these bad records?

Rafael's phone buzzed in his pocket, swaying his mind from all the disgusting things he'd discovered. Since he had discarded his wet gloves, his hand, which still had stains of dried blood, reached for his phone in his pocket.

His eyes widened when it was a message from his Luna.

Luna: I got your letter.

Rafael's thought seemed amiss, then he recalled the note he left at her front porch that night.

Rafael: You coming to Aleyska?

Luna: Yeah, to FUCK YOU UP!! 😠

Rafael could sense the anger in her sentence. She was indeed a fireball, but why did it appear to be the most beautiful threat coming from her? His eyes zeroed on nothing else except that 'fuck you' and honestly, he anticipated it.

Rafael: Can't wait! ; )

The following day, their trip to Aleyska held more than what they actually anticipated.