Second Earth 5 by L D P Samways

Author:L D P Samways [Samways, L D P]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: The Purple Book Co.
Published: 2016-06-18T22:00:00+00:00

“Please, I’m begging you! I don't know anything!” Hutchison screamed as The Interviewer swung his nail pipe once again, this time into Hutchison’s sternum.

The impact of the swing made Hutchison cough up a mouthful of blood, first gurgling in his throat, then spouting out of his mouth and nose like a faucet. Some of the splatter hit the shirtless Interviewer. He wasn’t impressed, wiping the residue of his victim off his face and snarling as Hutchison writhed in pain, squirming in the chair, eyes rolling into the back of his head.

“I hope that was an accident,” the big brutish man said, dropping the pipe on the floor, the sound of it clanging against the concrete echoed through the dark room. He then cocked his fist back and smashed Hutchison in the face, the point of his nose crushing against the ridged knuckles of the torturer.

“Please!” Hutchison screamed, blood pouring out of his now near lopsided nose. His nostrils flared and constricted as he tried to breathe, but the blood was blocking his airways as he gasped for air through his wide open mouth, his teeth covered in crimson red as blood dribbled out of his gob.

“There’s no pleasing the court here, my friend,” The Interviewer said, bending back down and grabbing the led pipe with nails embedded into it.

“Oh God, not again,” Hutchison cried, but his pleas fell on deaf ears. The Interviewer laughed, his belly jiggling as he chortled. He then took two steps back, swung the pipe again and landed a direct shot onto Hutchison’s face, shattering his teeth and cracking his jaw.

“Like popcorn,” The Interviewer said as he marveled at his work, Hutchison’s teeth falling out of his mouth and pinging as they hit the floor. It was a sick sight, but The Interviewer enjoyed it nonetheless. So much so in fact, that he was about to take another swing at Hutchison when the lights came on and the room around them was released from its previous darkness.

“I see that you have met our friend,” a voice said from the far end of the large empty room, near the doorway.

The voice belonged to a man that had no business in being in that squalid environment. He had a way about him, a way that suggested that he hadn’t worked a day in his life. His hands were soft and his nails were trim. He wore a suit and shiny shoes. He walked differently from the people that The Interviewer usually encountered. But this man was known to the big brute, and in his presence, he dropped the bat and stood to attention.

“Yes Sir, we’re best of friends,” The Interviewer said.

The man smiled, slowly making his way toward the shirtless savage and Hutchison who was too banged up to even know what was going on. The sound of the man’s shiny shoes tipped and tapped on the concrete, suddenly changing to a squelch when he stepped in some blood. The man looked down and frowned.

“Brilliant,” he said, flicking his shoe a little, trying to get rid of the mess.

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