#vdarius

The younger man looked confused for a moment but it was quickly replaced with a smile as sinister as the blade now in his hand. “You’re going to tell me exactly what you told them. And if you don’t you’ll find yourself wishing that you had.”

“I doubt it.”

The blade sank deep into his hand accompanied by a sharp intake of breath. The pain was tough, certainly, but Rion knew that he just had to hold on. Everything else would be just fine as long as he could do that.

“You’re going to have to do worse than that if you wanna break me, sweetie,” he smirked.

Anger distorted Darius’s face as he ripped Rion’s shirt open, the chest bare coated in a film of sweat and rising and falling rapidly over his pounding heart. The knife traversed the skin countless times in a lattice, his strength leaving his body in a million red rivulets.

“Fine, I’ll talk,” Rion spat out through gritted teeth. “Do you think you could go for the cheek? I’d like to have a matching pair,” his head turned so that the unmarred cheek was presented.

If Darius was annoyed at the request Rion didn’t see it, but that might have been because the lights suddenly went out as the building shook. The door behind him suddenly slammed open and the extraction team burst in, their guns and torches pointed at Darius.

One person cut the ropes that tied him to the chair and Rion stood, rubbing his wrists. Taking the pistol that was handed to him he spoke, “If you want to settle this score I’d suggest putting the knife down.”

With murder written all over his face, Darius complied.

“Well done, sweetie,” he smirked as he stood just in front of Darius. “Now, there’s a message I’ve got for you. And the boss: You can never beat me.” His words finished, Rion pistol-whipped him taking a kind of satisfaction as he watched the body slump to the ground.