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Bille Elish ~ Bad Guy🙃

The flaring heat of this tiny room. The continuous dropping of water droplets from the aged old kitchen sink. The uncomfortable stench of blood, sweat, and cocaine makes my body itch. My right leg which I drape over my left begins to wiggle impatiently, a tick passed on to me by my dearest father.

All it takes is one last swig of breath intake to the skull and my whole resolve breaks.

Opposite me is a piece of shit, I had him tied to a chair just to look at his wretched bloodied face with a scowl on my face.

I send butcher a side glance with a silent nod. He nods back firmly in response before bringing out two machetes from his perfectly tailored red tuxedo. He sharpens them by sliding them aggressively against themselves, he juggles them like a trained circus clown a few times.

A little act of entertainment he performs for the traitor.

Butcher sharpens the knives one more time, allowing the killing intent of the object to resound across the filthy room.

The guy whose name is Mateo works as a delivery man for my coke-making factory. He's been smuggling my powder to the Mini boy toys gang, but that isn't what's currently pissing me off.

The fact that he sold the powder, "My" powder at a very insulting price is what sets me off the roof.

The stinky shit thought he could steal from me and get away. How funny. I thought.

If there's one thing I'm very good at apart from making lives miserable is catching a rat. They never slip out of my grasp, they always fall into my trap. One way or the other.

You do not steal from Davinia Valeno and get away with it. It is an impossible mission and anyone ready to take such a risk is ready to die a very slow and painful death.

"Now, tell me, Mr Mateo. How were you able to smuggle my powder and sell it right beneath our noses?" I question. My tone is low, soft, and polite but he knows better than to believe that I am anything but soft or genuinely polite.

He opens his fairly good right eye and stares lifelessly at me, thick blood mixed with saliva drools from his busted lip down to the dirty tiled floor. I must certainly soak myself in a fresh lavender-scented bubble bath after this.

"N-n no one" He manages to mutter. A response that makes me laugh.

I laugh out with a straight face but it is anything but lovely, the sound of my laughter that is. It is more like a laughter that sounds threatening.

"So you're telling me, you were the only one to smuggle my drugs from the lab and also sold them out?" I edge on with a taunt in my voice.

"y-y yes Ma'am" He answers meekly.

My right foot wiggling increases its pace, indicating how thin my patience is becoming.

I sigh dejectedly and motion to Butcher with a flick of my head.

"Do the honors, I'd rather remain clean for today" I drawl with disinterest.

Butcher moves into action.

I bring out my left hand to stare at my white painted manicured nails. The little antique rings that dressed my long fingers make them look lovely.

Mateo's scream fills the room, his chair screeches as it rocks and shakes when he tries to move away from the butcher whose matchet glares menacingly at him.

A very timid and foolish attempt but at least that shows how much strength he has gathered in him.

I scoff.

Just a little more while and you will be drained of energy and blood.

Butcher holds his right hand with so little force despite Mateo's futile attempts to release his hand.

His hand is placed hard on the table beside him, Butcher skillfully singles out his index finger which had a golden ring wrapped around it. His red tuxedo shirt is open and its flaps hid the about-to-be gruesome scene. He raises his hand.

Mateo's screams along with the screeching of his chair intensifies. Butcher makes a big chop and I hear a soft thud in tune with the clink of his ring finger hitting the ground, splattering blood on the tiles.

Mateo whimpers loudly and throws his head back in pain as his breathing shudders.

I clock my head to the side, watching from another angle.

My foot continues to wiggle.

"By the time Butcher is done with the fingers on your right hand and you still don't tell me what I want to hear...." I pause for a dramatic effect. "He'll chop off the fingers on your left and I know you're left-handed. How do you want to run your filthy broke-ass bakery with no fingers?" I taunt.

He continues to whimper and tremble.

Humans!
So weak-minded.

"I brought you in when you had nothing, when you were nothing. People called you useless but I made you useful, you know who I am and what I can do but still, you chose to protect someone that has no use to you." I mock lowly. Eyeing his battered being, curious to know what it is that makes one so foolish.

" Pathetic! " I spit.

" What did he or she promise you? Money? Sex? Power? Immortality? "I taunt.

My eyes reduces to slits.

" If you don't tell me what I want to know..... I will ruin your family, the family you were able to build with my help. I will hurt you in many ways, you'd wish for death" I threaten, allowing my words to sink in.

My eyes glance down at my rose gold Patek Phillipe watch and a look of irritation crosses my face.

I don't plan on getting late to dinner with Uncle Max and his family.

" Just tell me who aided your.... " I roll my hand in a circulation motion, thinking of the right word to say. "Idiocy," I ask lowly, keeping my impatience out of my tone.

Seconds passes and I receive no response from him other than his heavy breathing and sniffling.

My eye twitches.

"Cut them all off" I order passively.

"No! please No," he screams out in pain as he tries to wriggle his hand free from Butcher but fails. Butcher raises his hand and brings it-

"Marlow and Miles!"

My right foot immediately stops wiggling.

My lips stretch into a menacing smile.

Finally.