"Where is it?"
The room was dark and stank of blood.
Stale blood.
Two seated figures could be vaguely made out from the inefficient lighting of the flickering lantern.
One was sitting comfortably on table. Sipping some sort of beverage. Probably tea.
"I'd have told you by now had I actually known.."
The other one was tied to a chair facing the table, facing the other man.
"Not the answer I was hoping for."
The man put down his cup and picked up a knife lying on the table, among other instruments.
"Looks like you're in mood to play." With one swift strike he chopped off the left ear of his tied adversary. It fell near his feet. The seated man bellowed in pain. Uninterested, the other man walks away.
"So, lets play again. Where is the Apple?" He asked, nonchalantly flicking blood off the knife.
"Where? I know you were one of the guards on the convoy that transported it. I'm sure you know something. Something valuable to save yourself from a slow painful death here tonight."
"Antonio.. I.. I really know nothing. We were shifted before the convoy reached its destination. We saw nothing!"
With another smooth movement his right ear took its place on the floor. Another similar scream ringed the room.
"Lets see. You've still got your nose left. Then there are your fingers, and oh! You've got your tiny little instrument down there too. I've got plenty of things to play with. And my night is just getting started."
Placing the knife before the eyes of the guard, just above his nose, Antonio hissed. "So you better give me a reason to stop here old man, or I swear to god I can make this a lot worse for you."
"By the same God I swear…"
"Wrong answer! There goes your nose."
The man was a hulking bloody mess now. Antonio seemed to enjoy it. "Two ears and a nose on the floor. And then there are the ten on your hands. Plenty to work with. Lets see…"
He swung the chair around so that the poor man's hands were now on the table. Easier to cut them off that way.
"Oh and just to make sure you don't have any funny ideas in your head, if you die today without giving me what I want, I gonna come for your wife and daughter. Heard your wife is quite the stunner, heh. Anyways, moving on.."
He placed his bloody knife on the meek row of fingers. The old man closed his eyes.
"Wait..wait please."
It worked.
"Be quick." Placing the knife on the table, he walked around to face the old man.
"I think I heard one of the men inside the carriage say something. I think they were planning to meet again a couple of days after the transfer was over."
"Where?"
"The same place where the convoy started, where you picked me up." In obvious pain, he could barely talk. "Now let me go… I have a family to care about.."
"Too late to worry about them now, isn't it." Covering the old man's mouth with one hand, Antonio flicked open his hidden blade.
"Goodbye old bastard, you'll not be missed." The guard's eyes widened as the blade began drawing a neat semicircle on his throat. Once the semicircle reached ear-to-ear, he removed his hand and allowed the writhing mass to fall on the floor.
Slamming the door shut carelessly behind, he walked out into the gaslit London walkways. Cujo was faithfully waiting for him.
"Good boy…" He patted him affectionately behind the ears. "You did a good job keeping watch. Now come, its time to play our favourite hunting game. There's some dirt that needs cleaning."
Antonio looked up. It was a full-moon night. Yes, a good night to hunt indeed.