ROLAND POV
The room is dimly lit, a single bulb swinging lazily overhead, casting restless shadows on the stained concrete walls. I sit on a creaky wooden chair, the knife in my hands catching the light with every lazy turn of my wrist.
Across from me, the man kneels, his face pale, sweat streaking his skin despite the chill in the air. His hands are tied behind his back, his shoulders heaving as he struggles to breathe.
I can’t help but smile at him. It’s a slow, deliberate smile meant to unsettle him further. And it works. His wide, terrified eyes flit between my face and the blade, as though debating which one poses the greater threat.
“You have no idea how relieved I am to have found you,” I say, my tone conversational.
The knife twirls again in my fingers, slicing through the tension like butter. “I was starting to think you’d already skipped town with my money. That would’ve been… disappointing.”
He stares at me, his lips trembling, but no words come out. He doesn’t need to speak.
His fear is written all over his face, in every trembling muscle, in the way his knees seem ready to give out beneath him despite the fact that he’s already on the floor.
“You thought you were clever, didn’t you?” I continue, leaning forward slightly.
“Taking my money, promising me results, and then what? Disappearing? Hoping I’d forget about you? No, no, no. That’s not how this works.”
“I-I can explain,” he stammers finally, his voice cracking like dry wood. “Please, I can explain everything!”
I lean back, raising an eyebrow, feigning interest. “Oh? By all means, go ahead. Enlighten me.”
He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing violently. “I-It wasn’t my fault! I tried! I swear I tried! But-”
“But what?” I interrupt, my tone sharp now, like the edge of the blade I hold. “But you failed? Because that’s what I’m hearing. You failed me.”
His mouth opens and closes, no sound coming out this time. He looks like a fish out of water, gasping for air. Pathetic.
“You don’t understand,” he finally whispers.
I laugh at that, a short, humourless sound that echoes off the walls. “Oh, I understand perfectly,” I say, my voice cold.
“I understand that I paid you a considerable amount of money to do a job.”
“A simple job. And yet, here we are. Sebastian and Sasha are still happily married, and you…” I gesture at him with the knife. “You’re kneeling here in front of me, empty-handed.”
“Please,” he begs, his voice breaking now. “I’ll fix it! I’ll make it right! Just-just give me another chance!”
I shake my head slowly, almost pityingly. “Another chance?” I repeat, as though the very idea is foreign to me.
“Why on earth would I do that? You’ve already proven you can’t be trusted. If I let you go, all you’ll do is run, and I can’t have that. You’ll become a loose end, and loose ends…” I trail off, my gaze narrowing.
“Loose ends have a way of unravelling everything.”
“No! I won’t-I won’t run!” he cries, his voice rising in pitch. “I swear, I won’t! Please, just let me go! I’ll disappear! You’ll never see me again!”
“Exactly,” I murmur, almost to myself. “I’ll never see you again. That’s the problem.”
The moment he realises what I mean, his face crumples, his terror spilling over into a fresh wave of desperation. He struggles against his bonds, his knees scraping against the floor as he tries to scoot away from me.
“No, no, no, please!” he sobs. “I have a family! A wife! Kids! Please, don’t do this! I’ll do anything! Anything you want!”
I sigh, shaking my head. “You think I don’t know about your family?” I ask, my tone is almost gentle now.
“Of course I know. I know about your wife. Your children. That’s why I’m here talking to you instead of them.”
His sobbing grows louder, his shoulders shaking violently. “Please, don’t hurt them,” he begs, his voice barely audible through his tears.
“Relax,” I say, waving a dismissive hand.
“Your family is safe. I’m not a monster, after all. In fact, I’d say I’m quite generous. They’ll get to enjoy the money I sent you. Consider it my parting gift.”
For a moment, hope flickers in his eyes, as though he actually believes I might spare him. But that hope is short-lived.
“Unfortunately,” I continue, my voice hardening again, “you? You’re not so lucky.”
His eyes widen further, impossibly so, and he makes a desperate attempt to stand, to run, but his injured knee buckles beneath him. He collapses to the ground with a cry of pain, clutching at his bleeding leg.
I can’t help but laugh at the sight. “Where do you think you’re going?” I ask, amused.
He doesn’t answer, too busy dragging himself across the floor, his hands still tied behind his back. It’s pathetic, really. Like watching a wounded animal try to escape a predator.
I reach out, grabbing his leg and pulling him back toward me with ease. He screams, thrashing wildly, but it’s no use. He’s no match for me.
“Stop wasting my time,” I snap, slamming his leg down onto the ground.
Without hesitation, I drove the knife into his thigh, the blade sinking deep into the muscle. He lets out a bloodcurdling scream, the sound reverberating through the small room.
“That’s better,” I say, pulling the knife out slowly, savouring the way his body convulses with every inch. “Now, let’s finish this, shall we?”
He’s sobbing uncontrollably now, his words incoherent as he pleads for mercy. I ignore him, raising the knife once more and driving it back into his leg, this time twisting it for good measure.
“Please,” he gasps, his voice barely a whisper now. “Please, I’m begging you.”
I crouch down beside him, tilting my head as I study his face. “Begging doesn’t suit you,” I say calmly. “You should’ve thought about this before you failed me.”
With that, I bring the knife up to his face, the tip hovering just above his eye. He freezes, his breath hitching, and for a moment, there’s silence.
“Don’t worry,” I say, my voice soft now, almost soothing. “It’ll be over soon.”
And then, with one swift motion, I drive the blade into his eye.
He lets out one final, gurgling scream before his body goes limp, his head lolling to the side. Blood pools beneath him, spreading like ink across the floor.
I stand, wiping the blade clean on his shirt before slipping it back into my pocket. Taking one last look at the lifeless body, I let out a satisfied sigh.
“Well, that was fun,” I mutter to myself.
As I leave the room, the cold night air greets me like an old friend. Sebastian is waiting for me outside, his back to me as he leans against the car.
He doesn’t notice the smile on my face as I approach, nor does he ask what took me so long.
Good. Some things are better left unsaid.