The Twisted Obsession
Chapter 60: Torture

Chapter 60: Torture

In a dimly lit room adorned with lavish decor, Remo sat upon his chair, a haze of smoke enveloping him as he calmly puffed on his cigar. Four men knelt before him, heads bowed in contrition, their faces etched with guilt and fear.

"I trusted you," Remo’s voice rumbled, cutting through the thick air like a knife. "I trusted you to keep her safe."

The men lowered their gazes further, their apologies tumbling out in a chorus of remorse.

"It’s okay," Remo interjected, his tone surprisingly gentle amidst the tension. "I told you to stay hidden, to keep out of sight. You followed my orders."

He paused, taking another slow drag from his cigar before fixing his steely gaze on the men before him. "Do you have him? The man who dared to lay a hand on my wife?"

One of the men, his voice trembling slightly, spoke up. "We have him, boss. He’s in our custody."

Remo’s lips curled into a cold smile, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous intensity. "Good."

Remo’s eyes narrowed as he demanded, "Bring him out."

The guards exchanged uneasy glances before one of them stepped forward, his voice trembling slightly. "Boss, the assassin... he tried to take his own life when we apprehended him. But we managed to stop him."

A low growl escaped Remo’s throat, his anger simmering just beneath the surface. "So, he’s not just a madman," he muttered, his mind racing with the implications. "Someone sent him. Someone wanted my wife dead."

The air crackled with tension as Remo’s gaze hardened, his fingers curling into fists of restrained fury. Without another word, he motioned for the guards to bring the would-be assassin before him.

As the man was dragged into the room, his face a mask of pain and fear, Remo’s lips curled into a chilling smile. He reached for a gleaming knife, the metal glinting in the dim light, and advanced towards the trembling figure before him.

With cold precision, Remo began to interrogate the assassin, each question punctuated by the menacing flicker of the blade. The man’s screams echoed off the walls as Remo’s relentless pursuit of information drove him to the brink of madness.

Hours passed in a blur of agony and desperation, the room filled with the sickening sound of flesh meeting steel. And through it all, Remo remained unmoved, his resolve unyielding as he sought to uncover the truth behind the attempt on his wife’s life.

Remo’s voice cut through the air like a blade as he stood before the trembling assassin, his eyes burning with a steely resolve.

"Why did they want her dead?" he demanded, his tone laced with icy fury. He twisted the knife buried inside his ribs. Screams left the assailant’s lips.

Remo smirked, pulling the dagger from his ribs, glaring at the blood coated silver blade.

The assassin’s breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled to form words, his gaze flickering between Remo and the glinting knife held in his hand.

"I... I don’t know," the assassin stammered, his voice trembling with fear.

Remo’s grip tightened on the knife, his patience wearing thin. "Don’t play games with me," he hissed. "You were paid to kill her. Who sent you?"

The assassin’s eyes widened in terror as he realized the futility of resistance. With a shaky breath, he whispered, "I... I can’t say. They’ll kill me if I do."

Remo’s jaw clenched, his frustration boiling over into a torrent of rage. "They’ll kill you?" he spat. "You think you have something to fear from them? You should be afraid of me."

With a swift motion, Remo leaned in close, the blade of the knife hovering dangerously close to the assassin’s throat. "Tell me," he growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble. "Or I’ll make you wish you were dead."

Remo’s eyes bore into the assassin’s, a cold fire burning in their depths as he stepped back, the glint of the knife casting eerie shadows across the room.

"Why?" Remo’s voice sliced through the tense silence, sharp and unforgiving. "Who sent you?"

The assassin, his breath ragged and labored, met Remo’s gaze with a mixture of defiance and desperation. "I don’t know," he spat, his voice trembling with fear. "I was paid to do a job, that’s all."

"What a beautifully crafted blade," Remo marveled at the blade, though," his eyes flash to the, "it does look better on you," and before the assailant knew it, he threw the blade. He never saw it, the sharp pain of the blade slicing through the flesh just beneath his right collar bone.

He took his breath sharply, his eyes now deep with fear. His blood was trailing slowly from the deep embedded blade now in his body.

"Who paid you?" he demanded, his tone laced with menace. "Who wanted my wife dead?"

The assassin’s resolve wavered, his facade of indifference crumbling under Remo’s relentless onslaught. "I swear, I don’t know," he stammered, his words punctuated by the agonized rasp of his breath. "They kept their identity hidden. I was just a pawn in their game."

A low growl rumbled in Remo’s throat as he advanced inching closer to the assassin’s trembling form. "You expect me to believe that?" he snarled, his voice dripping with contempt. "You expect me to believe that you’d kill for a paycheck without knowing who signed it?"

The man’s hand wrapped around the blade hilt, he felt a rush of air as the Remo closed the distance. He grabbed his hair, yanking it back while Remo’s other hand clutched his on the hilt. The man manged to remove about two inches of the silver blade, but a nasty smirk crossed Remo’s face, shoving the blade back into his flesh and causing a scream to rip from his lungs.

The assassin’s eyes widened in terror, his resolve crumbling under Remo’s unrelenting pressure. "Please," he whimpered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I’ll tell you everything, just... just spare me."

But Remo’s heart remained as cold as the steel in his hand, his determination unyielding in the face of the assassin’s pleas. With a cruel smile, he leaned in close, his voice a menacing whisper in the assassin’s ear.

"You should have thought about that before you tried to take what’s mine," he hissed, his grip tightening around the knife. "Now, tell me everything you know. And pray that it’s enough to save your miserable life."