The woman’s entire body seized in terror as the cold steel of the gun barrel pressed against her tongue. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her wide, tear filled eyes staring up at James in pure horror.
The chief’s face twisted in rage. "You sick fucker!" He shouted stepping forward.
James looked at him but kept his grip steady, his finger resting lightly on the trigger.
"Did I tell you to move, Chief?"
The chief froze, in place his eyes on the officer.
James turned his attention back to the her, his smirk widening. "What? Surprised? You looked like you were expecting something else."
She whimpered, her lips trembling around the barrel.
James leaned in slightly, his breath ghosting over her face. "Now, sweetheart I ask you again. Do you trust your chief?"
A muffled sob escaped her throat.
"No answer?" He tilted his head, pressing the gun deeper, making her gag slightly.
The chief’s fists trembled at his sides. "Enough! You’ve made your point, leave her alone!"
"Made my point?" He chuckled, stepping back. "Oh no, chief. I haven’t even started."
"You doing all this because your fucking brother, that Rafael? You’re killing innocent people to take revenge? People who serve to protect? They did what they served for, your brother was living in luxury, bathing in bloodied money…and in the end he got what he deserved he bled out like a fucking dog."
James stood in silence, his grip tightened around the gun, and then he laughed, a humorless laugh.
"Let’s make this more fun. Give him a knife."
One of the guards pulled a knife from his belt and tossed it toward the chief.
"Cut off all the fingers of your left hand, and I’ll let her go."
"What…?"
"Go on. You have a choice to make. Cut off your fingers, or I put a bullet in her head. You’re running out of time."
The chief’s breath caught in his throat. His eyes flicked to the officer, her face pale, tears streaking down her cheeks as she trembled uncontrollably.
"Ple...ase… " She tried to speak but the words barely escaping her lips. But her plea only seemed to drive him further into the abyss of what he had to do.
James locked eyes with the chief smiling. "You know, Chief, you talk a big, about protecting people, about being the hero. But when it comes down to it… you’re just like the rest of them. Weak. Always choosing your life over the lives you claim to protect."
The chief’s jaw clenched, his eyes flicking to the knife on the desk, then to the offcier again, who was still sobbing uncontrollably on the floor. "Please... just leave her alone."
James’s smile widened. "Oh, I’m not going to leave her alone, chief. Not until you make a decision. It’s simple. Cut off your fingers, and she walks. She doesn’t need to die."
The chief’s breathing became shallow as his gaze bounced between the officer and the knife. His hands were shaking, the weight of the decision pulling at him, but he knew he couldn’t act too fast. Not yet.
"I… I can’t." He whispered, his voice trembling. "I can’t do it. She’s just a rookie. She’s just a kid."
"So what? She’s less important than your finger?" His voice dropped low, menacing.
"Ple...ase…" The officer voice came with tears as the barrel was still in her mouth.
James ignored her. "Tell me, Chief." He continued, his tone growing colder. "How much is her life worth to you? More than your finger? Less? Maybe you think you can save her by doing the right thing. But the truth is, I get to decide what happens here. Not you."
The knife gleamed under the light, mocking him, daring him to act. He glanced at the officer again, her face filled with terror. He knew he had to make a choice, but everything about it felt wrong.
Was cutting off his finger really the price of saving her?
"Please, don’t make me do this." The chief pleaded, his voice cracking.
James’s eyes darkened. "You were acting tough a minute ago, and now you’re begging? You think you can talk your way out of this? This moment is yours, chief. You do this, or I put a bullet in her head right now. Make your choice."
"Go ahead." James taunted. "Show me how much you really care about her. Prove it."
"Bellini, you cant—"
"Shut the fuck up."
Stephen in fact did shut the fuck up as he sat back down, not even daring to look at him.
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The decision felt impossible. His mind screamed at him to do anything but this. But as the seconds ticked by, it became clearer than ever.
There was no other way out. The knife lay there, waiting for him.
With a forceful breath, the he grabbed the knife. His fingers were slick with sweat, his body trembling.
For a moment, he just stood there, staring at the blade, feeling its sharp edge pressing into his skin, knowing that once he made the cut, everything would change.
James’s voice broke through the silence. "You have three seconds. Make it count."
Without thinking, the chief slammed the blade down onto his finger slicing through his flesh.
The pain was immediate and brutal.
A scream tore from his throat as the blade severed the bone and the flesh.
His vision blurred, the world tilting as the pain shot through his body. Blood poured from the wound, splattering onto the desk and dripping down.
The officer gasped, her eyes wide with horror as she watched him. The blood was bright red, pooling beneath his hand, staining the desk.
He fought to hold onto the knife, but his hand was slick with his own blood.
The wound throbbed, every heartbeat sending a fresh wave of blood. His finger was barely hanging on, the bone exposed. With a final, shuddering breath, he sliced through the last of it.
The severed finger fell onto the desk.
James stared at the scene, the blood splattered across the floor and desk, the chief’s ragged breathing echoing in the silence.
"You did well. You’re more valuable than I thought."
The chief’s body trembled from the pain, but he held his ground. His eyes never left the officer, who was now shaking uncontrollably, her face pale with shock
James glanced at the severed finger. "You’ve earned your reward..."
He pulled the trigger, and the bullet flew through the officer head. Her body jerked back, and James shot again. Again. The bullets ripped into her body.
"No!" The chief screamed, but he turned and shot him in the chest.
James stepped closer and fired again.
He emptied the whole magazine, aiming for the chief’s head. The bullet tore through his skull, and blood gushed out, part of his brain splattering against the wall and onto the ground.
It was a gruesome scene.
But for him it wasn’t enough.
James tossed the gun to the ground then picked up the knife.
Without hesitation, he leaned over the lifeless body of the chief and he cut out his tongue.
Next, he pressed his fingers into the chief’s eyes pushing his thumbs into the soft tissue until it fell back. He felt the warmth of the blood as it dripped down his hand, but he didn’t flinch.
He then grabbed the chief right ear and sliced through the skin cutting it of, then the left one too.
As he finished, he stood back, looking at it.
"Hear no devil, see no devil, speak no devil." He said then turned to Stephen, whose eyes were wide with a mixture of shock and disbelief. He was frozen in place, unable to tear his gaze away from the body.
"I saw this on the internet." James said, his voice oddly casual. "It sounds cool, doesn’t it?"
"Y-yeah… it d-does…"
"You know I can feel something taking over me." He pointed at his head. "Like something controlling me, have you ever felt that?" James asked.
"...No…n-never…"
"And you Hector?" He asked but he didn’t answered.
He was smiling while looking at chief body.
"Hector?"
"...I’m feeling it right now...." Hector’s voice was calm, as he didn’t even looked at James only the body.
"Nice."
For second there was silence until he glanced at Linda, still unconscious and then started slapping her face gently.
"Sleeping princess, wake up." He whishpered. "Get up, hey?"
Seconds later Linda stirred, her head limping slightly as consciousness slowly returned to her.
Her eyelids fluttered open, and for a moment, everything was a blur. The light, the smell of blood in the air, and the warmth of something wet on her skin, it all felt distant, unreal.
She shifted slightly in the chair, her fingers twitching against the armrest before her senses finally sharpened. Then, she saw it.
The chief’s body sat slumped against the wall. His eyes were missing as were his ears too.
Then, the reality of it all crashed into her.
A choked gasp escaped her lips before she leaned forward in her chair.
Her stomach clenched, and she vomited onto the desk.