Leland walked in holding a shovel, dragging it across the floor with a screeching sound that echoed eerily in the quiet basement.
The two people inside had rags stuffed in their mouths. When they heard someone entering, they exchanged glances and saw fear in each other’s eyes.
They were sprawled on the ground, their limbs shackled to the wall with chains that clinked softly whenever they moved.
As Leland entered, both of them broke out in a cold sweat, trying to lower their heads to reduce their presence. They sensed someone approaching and glanced up slightly, meeting Leland’s grim face.
They were almost scared to death.
Leland didn’t speak immediately. He stood there, looking around, resting his forearm on the shovel as he slowly put on gloves with an air of elegance.
If it weren’t for the setting and the shovel in his hand, they might have appreciated Leland’s demeanor.
“Who broke her hand?”
Their hearts raced with fear. As soon as Leland spoke, they felt a tightening force around their necks, making it hard to breathe.
With rags in their mouths, who could speak?
Realizing this, Leland walked up to the nearest person and removed the rag from his mouth.
The man gasped for air, too frightened to speak immediately. His teeth chattered as he knelt on the ground.
“Please let me go. I shouldn’t have been so greedy. If you let me go… I’ll do anything… Please don’t hold it against me. I’ll live honestly from now on and never rob again…” he stammered, almost ready to kowtow if he could move his chained limbs.
Leland looked down at him with disdain, playing with the shovel handle. His face was expressionless, but his eyes were bloodshot with rage.
Hearing repeated pleas of “sorry” and “let me go,” Leland grew impatient. He slammed the shovel into the ground, startling the man into silence. The man looked at Leland with fearful eyes.
“I’ll ask again: who broke her hand?”
“It wasn’t me… It wasn’t me.” The man quickly shifted blame to the other person still gagged beside him.
“It was all him. I didn’t want to rob anyone; it was Charles who dragged me into it. He broke her hand; it has nothing to do with me… really nothing…”
“Very well. Describe every detail of what happened. Leave anything out, and I’ll cut out your tongue.”
The man was confused by Leland’s words. Did he believe him and plan to let him go? He glanced cautiously at his accomplice’s hateful eyes.
Winifred’s hand was broken by both of them together-one restrained her while the other took her watch-but he couldn’t admit that now. Since Leland asked him first, he’d push all the blame onto Charles. Luck was on his side; Charles was just unlucky.
As he thought this, he saw Leland walk over with the shovel. The light behind cast a huge shadow on the wall as Leland raised the shovel.
A loud “bang” echoed as the man instinctively closed his eyes. He heard a painful groan and opened his eyes cautiously to see Leland knocking Charles to the ground. He unchained Charles from the wall and wrapped a chain around his neck, tightening it.
Charles, who had been glaring moments ago, now lay like a strangled dog.
Leland stepped on Charles’s back.
“Speak.”
This command was directed at the terrified man beside him. Speak about what? Realizing what Leland wanted, he began recounting everything in detail.
“Charles and I had just finished drinking on a nearby street when we saw a woman squatting by the road. I went over to check on her, but Charles had other ideas. He recognized her watch as genuine and wanted to rob her… Then Charles tackled her and asked for my help. She struggled and tried to call for help on her phone, so Charles stomped on her wrist…”
At this point, there was a sickening crack.
“Ugh…”
Leland stomped on Charles’s right hand with enough force to break it.
The man’s narration halted abruptly in terror as he realized what was happening-Leland was reenacting their crime.
Pale-faced with fear, he continued under Leland’s cold gaze.
“He kicked away her phone and broke her fingers…”
“How many times in total?”
“Seventeen times.”