In the dimly lit basement, two wealthy women sat bound to chairs, their designer gowns rumpled and smeared, and their mouths sealed with strips of tape.
Surrounded by walls that shut out the light, the room was cast in a feeble glow that hardly dispelled the darkness. A glaring spotlight illuminated a wall lined with chilling instruments of torture, their sharp, cold edges sending shivers down one's spine.
The ground beneath them was marked with traces of blood, barely dried, and the air was thick with a metallic stench.
Fiona and Janice, dragged into this chamber of horrors, slowly regained consciousness. As their bleary eyes adjusted, they took in the scene, and dread clawed at their throats. The rumors were trueâDavid was a demon who would kill without a second thought.
'We're such fools to have crossed such a monster! Are we going to die here?' Fiona thought in despair. She shuddered at the wall of instrumentsâ
each capable of torment beyond imagination.
The two women squirmed against their restraints, their whimpers muffled by the tape on their mouths.
Just then, the basement door creaked open. Nathan entered, flanked by a group of mercenaries.
Fiona and Janice's muffled protests grew louder as they glared at Nathan.
"Remove the duct tape," Nathan ordered, pulling out a chair and sitting across from the captives.
A mercenary approached them and ripped the tape from their mouths with a single, brutal motion.
"W-What do you want with us?" Janice stammered.
Fiona remained silent as she glared at Nathan. Her lips were in pain from where she had been slashed.
"You'll find out soon enough," Nathan replied coolly. 'Here you are, locked away, still asking pointless questions. You should be praying for a little more time before you meet your end,' he thought with a subtle smirk.
Janice's scalp prickled at Nathan's words. She recognized himâNathan, the right-hand man of David, a key figure in the Charrington Group.
Her eyes darted to the wall of torture instruments, and a sense of foreboding grew within her. 'Are they planning to use those on me?' Janice wondered.
She had lived a life of luxury and comfort, shielded from violence. In the face of such raw brutality, she crumbled under the weight of paralyzing terror.
"P-please, let me go! I'll apologize to Danielle. It was a momentary lapse in judgmentâI didn't mean what I said," Janice begged. "I'll make it up to her. Whatever the amount, I'll pay. Please... let me go."
Amused by Janice's plea, Nathan thought with disdain, 'She wants to pay Mrs. Charrington with the measly wealth of the Marker family? How ignorant.'
Nathan scoffed. "This is the first time I've heard someone try to bribe Mr. Charrington. Your family's wealth can't even cover the staff wages at Nathor Palace. Do you think climbing into the Locke family's good graces makes you untouchable?"
Janice could tell that Nathan was insulting her. She clenched her fists, trembling with suppressed rage, but she could only endure the humiliation.
"Mrs. Marker, it seems like you're still clueless about your predicament," Nathan drawled while lighting a cigarette.
The mercenary stepped forward and untied the ropes binding the two. Just as they breathed a sigh of relief, the man grabbed Janice's right hand and snapped it with a single twist.
Janice's scream echoed throughout the basement.
"Continue," Nathan instructed.
Without hesitation, the mercenary seized her left hand and broke it with the same ruthless efficiency. Janice fainted from the pain, slumping in her chair.
Fiona staggered back in horror, her body trembling as she witnessed the mercenaries' savage display.
"Wake her up," Nathan ordered coldly. 'Pathetic. She passes out after just two broken wrists? The real fun hasn't even started yet. Mrs. Marker needs to stay conscious when we carry out the punishment so she understands the consequences of crossing Mrs. Charrington,' he thought.
A bucket of ice-cold water splashed over Janice, and she jolted awake with a gasp, her eyes wide with terror.
"How dare you torture me! I'll report you to the authorities. The Locke family won't let this stand," Janice shrieked. "I want to see Mr. Charrington. You can't do this to me. If I die in this place, my soul will never restâI'll come for you."
Nathan took a drag and tossed the cigarette. He chuckled and said, "Even the Locke family you rely on needs to make an appointment to see Mr.
Charrington. Who the hell do you think you are?
"Do you know how many people have died in this basement? Each one cursed us with their dying breaths. Their curses didn't save them. Neither will yours."
"Since you're so fond of cursing, let's see how tough you are." Nathan's voice was unnervingly cold. "Chop off her limbs and toss them in the grinder."
"No, please! Don'tâ" Janice cried out.
The mercenary stepped forward with a gleaming blade in hand and severed one of her hands in one swift motion. Blood sprayed across the floor as Janice's gut-wrenching scream filled the room.
Janice looked at her severed hand and pleaded hysterically, "Please don't throw it in!" She shouldn't have let her arrogance get the better of her.
The mercenary picked up the severed hand and, with great precision, tossed it into the meat grinder. In an instant, the hand was devoured by the machine.
Janice watched in horror as everything unfolded before her eyesâthey were serious.
Heavy with the lingering scent of iron, the basement now reeked of fresh blood.
Appalled by the barbaric scene before her, Fiona was struck with such terror that she lost control of her bowels. Her eyes bulged as she thought, 'They're devils, demons!'
"Continue," Nathan said chillingly.
One by one, Janice's remaining limbs were hacked off and thrown into the grinder. Each time she passed out from the pain, a splash of cold water dragged her back to consciousness.
She was reduced to a trembling shell of a human being, her mind teetering on the edge of madness.
"Why don't you just kill me," Janice uttered. She was in such agony that she wished she could just die.
"Death is an easy way out here in the Nathor Palace," Nathan said with a cruel smile. "Perhaps you'll reconsider when you think of your daughter abroad."
Tears streamed down Janice's face as she begged, "Please don't hurt my daughter. Do whatever you want with me. Don't hurt her."
Nathan sneered. "You care about someone too? Then why did you insult the person Mr. Charrington cares about? Don't you think you deserve to die?"
"Ten cuts. Just keep her alive," Nathan instructed the mercenary beside him.
Not A Small Town Girl (Danielle and David)
ï¤Chapter 178 The mercenary carried out the order, taking out his knife and stabbing it into her flesh without striking vital points. Each stab brought a fresh wave of agony, soaking her evening gown with blood.
Nathan turned his attention to Fiona with a sinister glint in his eyes. "Now, it's your turn."
Petrified, Fiona collapsed to her knees, unable to speak.
"Mrs. Lindstrom, you're in deeper trouble than Mrs. Marker, and your punishment will be far more severe. I'm honestly worried you might not survive it," Nathan said with a chuckle.
Fiona's face turned ashen, feeling the repercussions of provoking David. "M-My sister is David's stepmother. If you hurt me, you won't get away with it."
Her words seemed to freeze the air.
"You shouldn't have said that," Nathan replied in an unfeeling voice. "Now, I'll ensure you receive the punishment you truly deserve."