CHAPTER 32

Cold air spread into the building.

Salty sea waves crashed against the shore, leaving a pungent trace. He didn't smell it. He could only smell blood. And how could he not? He hadn't taken a bath in weeks, even after gutting the sluts. Zwingli killing himself wasn't exactly planned, but oh well, the bastard was still dead, anyways. His only regret was that he wasn't there to see the horror and pain on his face.

The man stormed down the cold, barren hallways. Time to see his special guests.

A rusted, bolted door creaked open. It revealed a plain, large room, it's decorations were the chains around his guests' hands. Their four heads snapped up to him. It was the first time they'd actually seen their captor. The eldest, a red-head, hissed at him. Alistair Kirkland, if he remembered correctly.

"Wha' ta bluudy hell is goin' on here?" His voice held nothing but hatred and…fear.

The dark figure felt a dark grin spread over his face. Not that they could see it behind his mask. "You should feel grateful; I've given you nothing but the best treatment." His thick accent rang through the room. The Kirklands couldn't decipher what if was, but they knew that he didn't speak English as a first language.

"Buíoch?!" The female, Wilma Kirkland, hissed. "Yeah, we're rayle grateful ter be chained ter a wall an' fed 'orse shoite!"

"You could be dead." The mystery man shrugged.

"Who are you?" Ah, finally. A smart one. He looked down. The legless one was the one who had spoken, Dylan Kirkland.

The bloodthirsty grin on the man's face just grew, but they couldn't see it behind his mask. "Come now, you may not know me, but surely you've seen my work?" Nothing. He sighed. "Oh, well. I suppose I'll just tell you." He took out four pictures and pinned them to the wall. "Recognize these?"

"Oh, God." Patrick Kirkland looked horrified.

"The Devil, actually."

"Ye're him!" Alistair stared at him, his eyes wide with fear. "Ye're ta bastard who kille' 'ose lasses."

"You're brighter than you look." The killer made a face. "Still not the genius that your little sister is, though, are you?" They visibly flinched, as though a shot of electricity struck them.

"What. Did. You. Do. To Her." Dylan seethed, positively livid and ready kill. How amusing.

"Oh, nothing, yet." The killer grinned wickedly. "The question really is: What will I do when I finally get my hands on her?" He let out a ferocious laugh. "Do you know how long I've waited? Nearly a decade! I've waited nearly a decade to get my hands on that disgusting little bitch. And she didn't even notice!"

"Oh, no, she was too busy worrying after her stupid siblings to even notice that she was the one in real danger." He loved watching the horror spread through their expressions. "Little Alice's getting close you know. You should've seen her face when she found her home ripped into shreds and her family missing. Ha! It was beautiful. I've been visiting her the past couple weeks, too, it's wonderful watching her slowly loose her sanity."

"You stay away from her!" Alistair thrashed against the chains, trying to claw out the man's throat. "Lay one hand on her, and I'll fucking kill ye!"

He let out a bitter laugh. "I won't just kill her, I'll make it nice and…well, not even painful could describe it." He turned to the pictures. "Notice how all these women are similar? They all had green eyes and blonde hair. Alice will be my final piece. The Grand Finale, if you will."

"I'll chain her to the wall, and then I'll slowly remove her clothing, one little piece at a time. And then I'll just sit there and watch her squirm as she loses any last bit of dignity she has left." He let out a dark laugh. "And then I'll gut her. I'll take my knife and slowly drag it along, watching the blood pour from her body. I won't kill her straight away, no, that'd just take the fun out of it all."

The Kirklands faces, ah, they were so refreshing. Green fire of several shades, furious and ready to unleash themselves and kill him. Pfft. As if any of them could ever lay a hand on him. "I want to hear her scream! I want to hear her plead for death! I will make her suffer the greatest pain as she watches me kill every single last one of the people she cares about. Everyone she loves, just like how she took away the love of my life!"

Translations:

Buíoch?! = Grateful?!