I don’t understand, I said.
Assail scrummed down, getting in the man’s face. That is right! I am nightmare come upon you!There was only one chain hanging from the wall. The other was coiled on the floor inside the locked cell, the blood that painted the links proving it had been the murder weapon Marisol had used.
It would be put into service yet again.Assail dematerialized through the bars and picked up the sticky, copper-scented links.Oh, Marisol, would that you had not had to be so brave.
As Assail dematerialized back out, Benloise was no longer the in-control businessman who was used to holding all the cards. Unlike the dead bodies and the blood or even the loss of his brother and the threat to his own life—all of which he had been able to mostly retain his composure around—learning Assail’s true identity sent him over the edge.Whimpering, crying, praying, the man lost control of his bladder, urine pooling out of his shrunken c*ck onto the concrete floor.
Assail stalked over to the wall and reattached the chain. Fortunately, there was nothing fresh upon the stained surface. There was going to be, however.
Manhandling Benloise’s shrieking, flopping, pissed-on body off the floor, Assail bit through the duct tape tethers at the man’s wrists, and cuffed him to the wall Christ-style by shortening the lengths until his hollow torso was pulled flat.Good, glad you agree, Wrath muttered as he cued George.
The dog signaled that they’d come up to a barrier by halting, and Wrath reached out, his palm finding a sheet that was stiff and thick. Dropping his hold on the halter, he used two hands to pull it aside so he didn’t tear it from its tethers above.The voices stopped immediately.
Except for one that breathed, Holy … shit.All at once there was a clattering, as if tools were being dropped to the floor—and then a rustling.