Sick Game called Torture

[Please read at your own discretion if violence is not your thing]

The doctor excused himself and quickly waddled out of his office, giving the pair a private moment. But his presence, or lack of, was not even noticed by the concerned individuals.

The scene of the room, from outsiders' view, is no different from how it normally is whenever Frederick Mortcombe is involved. Especially with the way one incessantly begged to spare the life of a human and the villain, remained still and heartless in his seat.

But it was far from the truth. Although he typically would be aroused seeing his captives cry in agony, this time Frederick was actually lost in his own confused state as sympathy filled every crevice of his heart.

He was not expecting Audrey to behave that way that it shook him to the core. He thought, after all that she had been through, she would want to start afresh. Clearly, he thought wrong.

His brain was in a terrible mess seeing her like that, especially when he learned a tiny portion of her life.

It had been barely a month since he held her captive and yet, watching her in this state was tearing his heart apart and his tummy tangled in a tight knot. His organs felt as though they were being crushed and all of their contents were threatening to spill at the top of his throat.

It was unbearable feeling this way but he could not help it. Every single time her precious tears touched the ground, he would want to scream and tell her it was not worth her tears! Who would have thought he would be feeling sorry for his prisoner? Let alone wanting to know more about the causes leading their life to a misery.

"Hey. Hey, Audrey," he called her softly and clasp her wrist. "Audrey, I never said I will." He wiped those diamond crystals from her eyes with his thumbs. "I didn't mean that. I just thought that maybe..."

However, the dark-haired man could not continue his words further. He figured it was best to leave it out in case it might trigger anything from the brown-haired Bloodsworth.

Instead, he placed his arms around her and pat her back, consoling and reassuring her that he would never do that and promised never to bring it up again.

* * * * *

"Sir Mortcombe, I have found the man who performed the artificial insemination on the youngest granddaughter of Elwood's Bloodsworth," Pearson's voice was on the other end of the receiver.

Frederick clutched his phone in a tight death grip as though the phone was Audrey's assailant and hissed, "And?"

"He is the Bloodsworth's mad doctor —"

The villain sucked in the air, controlling his anger from blowing up at the innocent helpful man. "Pearson, spare me the details. I want to know if he's tied and locked up in the freezer?"

"Yes, sir. He's been in the freezer for almost two hours now."

"Good, keep him awake."

In an hour, Frederick was received and escorted by his men to the warehouse. The mad doctor was sitting on the floor, with his feet and hands bound to each other with icicles forming at the tip of his hair and eyebrows. His eyelids were struggling to open up as his teeth chattered nonstop.

"Cold, are you?" Frederick asked with a pretence of kindness as he draped the man with his winter jacket.

The victim, in his forties, wanted to give his thanks when he felt liquid trickling down his back. Turns out the down jacket was soaking wet. Instantly, his eyes widened as huge as they humanely could when the temperature dropped even lower.

With so little energy he had to live, there was not an ounce of anger to raise his body temperature. Instead, he picked the most likely option to survive - ask for help.

"H-h-help me, p-puh lease."

"Sorry? I can't hear you," the villain placed his ear near his lips, pretending he could not hear a word, intending to make a mockery out of the man's life.

"H-h-help me."

"What's that? Help you?"

"P-p-please!" The man begged, not knowing that he is the main character of Frederick's little sick game.

"Sure, why not? Give me your hand," Frederick extended his hand as though about to help the poor old man stand up. Understandably, it took quite a while for the mad doctor to do such a simple task. Let alone move his joints.

"God! You sure take your time!! Lads, carry him out. I don't have time for this slo-mo!"

"T-t-thank you," the doctor said with chattered teeth.

The frozen man was thawed out by the heat of a distant fire when Frederick once again repeat his lines, "Give me your hand."

He wore the widest grin on his face with one hand facing the man and another behind his back. The clueless doctor had his guard down and placed his hand on Frederick when the rogue swiftly pulled his hand forward and cut the man's limb cleanly.

"Thanks for giving me your right hand. Can I have your left hand now?" Frederick was the happiest man in the room as blood sputtered out and splashed everywhere like the water sprinklers. His smile turned into maniacal laughter when howls and shouts echoed in the empty warehouse.

Step by step the villain moved forward causing the older man to stumble and wriggled backwards. "P-p-please!"

"Oh, dear. He said the magic word. I must stop now," the villain cackled, giving rise to the hairs of those present. "But you see, doctor. I can't. I need to know which irresponsible hands of yours committed such acts."

"T-there m-m-must be some misunderstanding."

"Maybe. Maybe not. But it doesn't matter anyway."

The hazel-eyed man played with the severed lifeless limb in his hands, stabbing the dagger forcefully into it as the blood coloured his handsome face crimson.

"Please, there must be something I can do!! Please don't kill me!!" The man knelt down and bowed, begging to live as hard as he could.

"Kill you? Wa ha ha ha. Who says anything about that?"