Tw: knife in the form of a playing card, beating, kidnapping, torture, blood, threatening to harm a loved one, kidnapping again but in a lot less serious way, a little bit of sadism,
Here is the Infopost for Tye Sypher Trilogy and Here you will get to the Masterlist :)
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Chapter 2
“I’m gonna ask this one last time, Silat, and you better answer me before I get bored and just decide that Cara will give me better answers.” The bastard had something of Azriel’s… Again. And the assassin has been letting him get away for a little too long for comfort.
The knife, looking like a playing card, with its sharp edges and the pattern of a 7 of Diamonds drawn on it delicately, moved between his fingers effortlessly, only stopping when the poor man he’s been tormenting for the last hour or so stirred. God, the guy looked pathetic. Even more so than last time.
“I-…” right, he had slit his throat a bit… not enough to kill him, but enough to make talking just that much more painful. He would feel bad if it wasn’t so damn satisfying to hear the fool scream.
“You?” The blond asked dryly. If this little shit said some nonsense like ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ or ‘I don’t have it’, he was gonna-
“I-I’ll… never…” immediately, a kick to the groin shut him the fuck up. He didn’t want the guy to talk unless it was gonna be something useful, and that didn’t sound like something useful.
“You really are a dumb bitch, huh? No wonder your boss dropped you off at my doorstep.” The sociopath grinned like a shark smelling a victim’s blood in the water. Did Silat know he was lying? Did the brunette know that it was him who sneaked into his house and sedated him? The slight flinch and the way he tried to turn away from his captor said that, no, he didn’t know what really happened. Tried, he couldn’t really move much…
“F-fuck… ya-…” Huh. Even while being tortured, the man couldn’t drop his stupid accent. Fucking dumb bitch.
“I’m getting what I want, no matter how stubborn you are. And if I don’t get it soon, I’m gonna drag your fiancé down here as well, see how that motivates you, dipshit.” Another kick followed, as well as a gurgling sound and some coughs, blood staining the already bloodied floor a new kind of crimson.
Azriel knew very well how much the threat of getting his beloved soon to be wife into this terrified the man, obvious by the way he flinched back even harder and looked up at him with dull, teary, almost pleading eyes. He loved those eyes. He fucking hated the man, but he loved those eyes.
“Oh, you don’t want that, do y-“ he got interrupted by the rude fucking person who used his doorbell, the annoying sound of ring ring ring echoing through the concrete walls of the lowest part of his house. “Fuckin’ great..” groaning, he glanced back at Silat, who seemed stupidly hopeful that he could scream his way out of this.
The shark grin reappeared, wider, as his captive’s eyes widened, the ball gag and scarf dangling before his face strangling any hope of escape. Again, he loved the terrified look in his eyes.
It took a few seconds of forcing the gag into the struggling bastard’s mouth, before he could tie the cloth around the lower parts of his face to make sure no noice could be loud enough to reach the person still ringing the fucking doorbell.
When Azriel was completely done, he gave Silat one last kick, a warning and not as hard as the first few, before walking up the stairs, locking the door behind himself and pushing the bookshelf in front of it. It was mainly to make sure no one would find out he even had a basement. There were no windows in his downstairs bedroom, so no one could watch him do this, too. Precautions, he said to himself. Definitely not paranoia.
“Hey! I’m coming! Calm the fuck down!” He screamed while taking his handgun and hiding it under his baggy, green shirt. Again, precautions, not paranoia!
“Now, just who do you-…”
Well, imagine the assassin’s surprise when he saw a… man… in front of his door. He had thought it was one of his neighbours who wanted something, or had something to rant about, but no. It was a… man. Tall, lean, muscular, definitely from the military. His black hair was cut very short and the only kind of clothing style the guy seemed to have was ‘uniform’. But it wasn’t the normal military stuff, those really were just normal clothes made to look like a uniform. Was he getting pranked by that bratty kid from down the street? No, that couldn’t be. He didn’t have a lot of friends and the dad was an obese office worker who liked letting his dog take a shit wherever the mutt pleased. Well, used to, Azriel took care of it…
“Can I… help you..?” He asked, slowly, unsure of what the hell was happening. It definitely wasn’t that he was uncomfortable with the situation, it just seemed… surreal.
“Mr Sypher? My name is Jonathan Star, I am from the International Safety Association, specifically the Branche from the United Kingdom, may I come inside.” That… that didn’t sound like a question. It was a statement that this man… Star… would come in. It was so he sounded polite, but there was no real need for an answer. Well, it’s not like that would stop Azriel from answering anyway!
“No.” He said, still confused, but his tone has gone a little bit more dry. More.. weary and irritated. International Safety Association. ISA. Anti terrorism and organised crime. Anti literally what he does for a living. Great.
Without giving ‘Jonathan’ even a second, he slammed the door shut right on his face, grinning to himself when the last look he saw on the rando’s face was irritation and shock. Delicious, in other words.
He was just about to push the bookshelf from the basement door when it came again. That stupid Ring Ring Ring sounding through the house. He had half a mind to just cut the electrical wiring and forget this happened, but the guy, who Azriel was sure this was, would probably just storm his house.
The next time he opened the door, there were four people, one being this Jonathan Star bastard, and the other three being fully geared up Soldiers with assault rifles trained on his legs, shoulder and… okay, the third guy didn’t seem to know what he was doing. Even better.
“I already said-“
“Azriel Sypher, or Zero? You are to come with us, struggle against this or make a scene, and we will use force. Please, put your hands up and slowly step out of the building.” The voice was calm. Too calm, what the hell was happening- wait-
“How the fuck- no, you can’t take me! You have no reason to-“ he argued, well, tried arguing, but that was hard when he was held at gun point and got metaphorically slapped in the face by the fact that this wannabe commanding officer knew his callsign.
“You are a wanted criminal, Zero. I can very well do this, and I will. Now Put. Your. Hands. Up.” Jonathan hissed through gritted teeth, taking a menacing step forward. However, even through all of this, he still seemed rather.. emotionless. Cold, for a lack of better words.
“I won’t- ugh, Hey!” He wanted to protest, but before he could continue his temper tantrum, Star rolled his eyes and simply grabbed him by the shirt, dragging him out of the threshold and shoving him towards one of his dogs, who grabbed Azriel not so gently and cuffed his wrists behind his back. Great! Just Great! This is-! Ugh, Great!
Only when he was pushed into the back of the Van, followed by two Soldiers and Star, did Sypher find his words again. Well, no, he had his words the entire time, but preferred to use them by throwing every insult and bad word he knew at his captors.
“Good, now let’s talk.” One of the Soldiers, a bit short but still definitely a good Soldier, removed her mask when Star, obviously the leader, said that. The man sat across from him and the unmasked woman took a place a few feet away from Azriel on the same side of the Van.
“As I said, my name is Jonathan ‘Nova’ Star, I am a Colonel in the New Zealand Army and the ISA. I am also the highest commanding officer in a Special Operations Task Force called The Crimson Spades. And as much as it pains me to say this, we need your help.”
Azriel choked on the air he was trying to inhale, finally looking up at the man and making eye contact. Okay, never mind, this was a dream. He was definitely dreaming, this is-
“We know that you have once worked with a man called ‘Malvik’, and we would like your expertise and knowledge about anything and everything regarding him. In return you will not be put before trail, for as long as you work with the Spades. As a Spade’s Soldier.”
The assassin had to admit, the guy was good at talking and explaining. That did absolutely nothing to stop him from almost vomiting at that name. Oh yes, he had experience with that guy, but-
“No. No, no, no! Not Malvik! I will help you with anything, but *not* Malvik! No! That-.. no!” He growled, earning an angry look from the woman next to him, as well as a slightly annoyed glance from Star. He had to admit, getting a wild card as a wanted criminal was something he’d take any time, even if h wouldn’t admit that, he did want to change, but not with that fuck! Not with Malvik.
“I… understand, partially. We will talk about this some more when we are at the base. Please, get comfortable, this is gonna be a long ride.” Azriel was almost content with that, until he remembered that he was basically kidnapped, stuffed into a Van, had no idea where they were going and…
Wait, he still had a captive in his basement… and he left the lights in the hallway on! Damn it! Nobody gave a shit about Silat, but his precious electrical bill!
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Thank you for reading. As I said, I’m in a very good mood for writing right now, even though that is a tiny bit declining. Still, here I have another treat for those who care to have it ;)
