Chapter 1

He was a tall man, thin, with a pallid complexion as if he had been out of the sun for most of his life. His face was once a handsome one, but now, a long ragged scar stretched across it marring his features. He had long black hair which hung down over the collar of his shirt making him look scruffy and unkempt. His cold grey eyes seemed devoid of life. He stared at the scene before him, a small smile touched the edges of his mouth as he watched, relishing the screams of pain emanating from his victim. He had waited a long time for this. He had spent all his time planning this, living out this fantasy in his mind over and over and now, now he was coming good on his promise to himself, that they would pay, all of them would pay. He watched as the man burned until the screaming subsided and the warehouse was silent once more. He had spent more than three hour extracting his vengeance on the figure which hung, burnt beyond all recognition in that cold dark warehouse. He had taken great pleasure in the pain and suffering he had inflicted over the three hours of torture his victim had endured. He had relished the sound of the man as he begged for his life, and then begged for his death.

"One down…" The man said as he turned away from the horrific sight.

The body was only discovered two days later. The grizzly sight was one which turned the stomach of even the most hardened officers. The coroner eventually confirmed the identification of the corpse using dental records, he also informed the detectives on the case of the torture that the victim had endured before being burnt alive and in his opinion this was a very personal attack. The deceased was a retired police officer from Los Angeles, there seemed to be no motive for the murder, the officer had no enemies, and no reason at all for such a vicious attack could be found. The officers looked into some of the man's past record of arrests and followed a few leads from people who had threatened to 'get' him after he had taken them down, but none of them panned out. After a few weeks the case went cold.

Exactly one month later a burnt body was found hanging from the rafters of an old abandoned building in New York and had been for the last ten years, before that he had been a prosecutor in Los Angeles. The victim had been horribly tortured and then set alight. The police were dumbfounded as to who could have committed the crime. He was well liked and dealt mainly with white collar crimes. They looked into the possibility that somebody who he had prosecuted could have done this but found nothing. The man had not dealt with anybody who had threatened his life, in fact most of the men or woman he had put away had been for soft crimes, fraud and such and most of them had not received overly long sentences, it seemed improbable that one of them could have done anything like what had been done to him. They saw no possibility that he was killed for that reason and that left them with no idea as to why he had been killed at all. The killer had been very thorough, there was no forensic evidence left at the scene, none of the blood belonged to anybody but the victim and no tools or weapons of any kind were left behind. Again after a few weeks the case went cold.

A month later in an abandoned warehouse in Paris, France another gruesome discovery was made. A woman, who had been horribly assaulted and raped and then hung from the ceiling and burnt alive, was discovered. Again there was no progress made by the local police. The woman had been discovered to be a local art dealer who had retired from the business ten years previously in order to get married and raise a family. She had no enemies and there seemed no motive for the horrible attack. The police were baffled by the horrific murder but with no leads the case went cold, just as the ones in the United States had.

Six weeks later the man stood before his latest victim who was dangling before him from the ceiling of the warehouse he had taken him too.

"Wakey…wakey…" The man said as he threw a bucket of ice cold water over the man who had been stripped naked.

His captive gasped as the cold water hit him and then tentatively opened his eyes. His face contorted in pain as he came back to consciousness to feel the heavy strain on his arms and wrists. His feet were also bound together preventing any movement except for swinging.

"What…" The man asked confused as he woke from the cocktail of drugs he had been administered. He could remember nothing of how he had got here or who the man before him was. He closed his eyes and tried to remember what had happened, but all he could remember was walking to his car after having dinner with a friend, then nothing. "Who…what…why are you doing this…?" He asked trying to get his thoughts in order.

"Oh please don't tell me you have forgotten me…" The man said his voice as cold as the water that he had just thrown the man before him. His eyes narrowed as he surveyed him and then he turned his back walking to a table he had set up a short distance from him. He picked up a tool and ran his eyes over the instrument before turning back to the prone man.

"I don't…"

"What Mr High and Mighty Insurance Investigator…?" The man spat at him. "You don't what…know what's happening? Don't worry you will, you will… You don't recognise me do you…? Well maybe I can forgive you for that…I know I look a little different." He said softly running his hand over the scar that crossed his face. "Should I remind you of who I am…?" He asked stepping in closer and pushing the man making him sway slightly causing the wire that bound him to cut into his wrists with the movement.

Then without warning the man swung his arms back and lashed out the metal pipe he held striking his victim in his midriff and causing him to cry out in pain, the man tried to pull his legs up but the attack was relentless, his tormentor striking again and again. Then, breathing hard from the effort the man stepped back and watched as his victim who was hanging helplessly fought to regain his breath, tears streaming down his face from the pain.

"I don't…what…why are you doing this?" His victim stuttered out. He had no idea who the man in front of his was… he had no idea why this was happening. One thing he did know was that he was in serious trouble and that this was not going to end well for him.

"Why…why?" The man asked stepping forward again as his victim braced himself for another attack. "Let me ask you…do you recall the name Lawrence Pennington?" He said stepping back again and turning back to his table of tools.

"Lawrence…" The man said and then recognition came to him. Lawrence Pennington was a low level art thief that he had tracked down many years ago when he was only starting out in his career with IYS. This man bore no resemblance to the young cocky thief who he had imprisoned those many years ago.

"Ahhhh…you remember." Lawrence said as he turned back to him. He held in his hand a long vicious looking knife that he ran his hands over lovingly. "I'm touched."

"Please I don't know why you are doing this but…why are you doing this?" His prisoner asked. Lawrence Pennington had only been given a short sentence; he had been a first time offender who had got off lightly. There would be no reason for any of this.

"You have the audacity to ask me why?" Lawrence asked softly approaching the prone man once more. "Do you know Super Insurance Agent what they did to me? Do you care?" He asked and before his prisoner could answer he plunged the knife into his leg and pulled it down slicing it open and laughing as the blood flowed and the man screamed in pain. Once he had done with the one leg he moved on to the other, starting at the hip and drawing the knife down laying the leg open but being careful not to slice through the artery which would cause his prey to bleed out far too quickly.

"Lawrence please…" The pained and weak voice of his victim cried out. "He could not think straight, the pain was drowning out everything else.

"Lawrence please…" He repeated and then laughed loudly. "Hurts does it…?" He asked as he turned back to the table to get another toy with which to torment his prisoner. "I know all about pain…you, you and your friends gave me the opportunity to learn. Five years I spent there, the first year I was their toy, their plaything. They gave me this as a reminder that I belonged to them…" He said indicating his scar. "They gave me much more than that too..." He said bitterly the venom and the anger in his voice a warning to his captor that he was in more trouble than he thought. Then he turned back to the man his eyes shining as he surveyed the new towy he held. "But then I learned…then I became what you have made me, the man I am today…" He said as he walked back to the man. "Are you proud of your creation…?"

"I don't…I didn't…please…" The man said gritting his teeth against the pain.

"Please…please…." Stop whining and take your medicine." Lawrence snarled at him. Then he held up the instrument in his hands showing it to the bound man. "Nasty little things these…" He said as he stuck it into his captives belly sending electricity coursing through him and causing him to scream out in pain, begging for his tormentor to stop.

"You know the cop…Cartwright…" He said talking to the stricken man as if they were having a cup of tea together. He ran the instrument down his victims back noting with pleasure how he tried to pull himself away from the dreaded instrument. "He was the first to pay. I wasn't as well versed as I am now and he only lasted a few hours…" He said as he stuck the cattle prod into the man's body again causing him to spasm as the electricity flowed through him. "But I got better as I went along…the woman…that Bitch of an Art Dealer who tricked me...she lasted a full five hours but I must admit…" Lawrence said smiling at the prone man… "I have much higher hopes for you."

The torture continued well into the night, with Lawrence not only inflicting physical and psychological torture on his victim but also committing unspeakable acts using various instruments until his victim was barely alive. He was covered with welts, bruises and cuts. He had numerous broken bones and he had lost a tremendous amount of blood, the red liquid forming in pools below his suspended body. Finally Lawrence fetched a ladder and placed it beside the man. Then he picked up a gasoline filled bottle and made his way back climbing up the ladder slowly, his eyes surveying in the damaged body before him.

"Lawrence…please…" The man whispered his strength almost spent, but his eyes wide with fear as Lawrence emptied the bottle over him the gasoline burning as it covered his wounds. He closed his eyes as the liquid seeped into them bringing with it renewed agony and blinding him completely.

"Don't worry my dear man…all good things must come to an end and you…" Lawrence said patting the man's face lightly. "Well you are done aren't you? I wouldn't want to let you miss the grand finale…that just wouldn't do."

"Lawrence…" The man tried to gasp out as he watched in horror was Lawrence lit up a smoke and then tossed the lighter at him. Immediately the gasoline caught flame and the man screamed as the flames took him. It was a good few minutes before no more sound emanated from the man and Lawrence sighed heavily. He watched as the fire slowly burn itself out leaving only the charred corpse handing from the ceiling and complete silence filling the room.

"One left…" Lawrence Pennington whispered then he turned and packed up his things. He took one last look at his handiwork then left the warehouse without a backward glance.

OK well that is the start of my new story. I know a very dark start I am sorry about that. I hope you are all going to enjoy the new story and I look forward to all your reviews and feedback.