Chapter 0
The man feels a severe dizziness as he hears a slow tapping on the ground.
He tries to move his body, but to no avail. The dark haze over his eyes slowly fades, and he gradually discerns the source of the sound in a blur. A foot tapping against the floor? He lifts his heavy head and sees a masked man sitting before him, wearing a wooden mask resembling a human face. The mask has two circular eye holes, dark as a deep abyss, a carved wooden nose, and unsettling lips etched onto the surface.
The bound man frantically tries to move his restrained body, his voice trembling as he addresses the masked figure who stares at him sharply, tapping the ground rhythmically.
"Who are you?! What do you want from me?" the bound man exclaimed.
No sooner had he spoken than he felt a blow to the back of his head, followed by a voice laced with anger:
"Lower your voice, you bastard."
"Another man?" The bound man thought, bewildered by the unfolding events.
He turned his head and saw a towering man, over two meters tall, with a massive build, broad shoulders, a clean-shaven face, and thinning hair. His expression was stern and unforgiving.
"Is that Ian from the café?" The bound man wondered.
Turning back to the masked figure, beads of sweat trickled down his forehead, falling onto the wooden floor beneath him.
"What is happening here? What do you want from me?!"
The masked man remained silent, staring at him through the dark voids of his mask, continuing the steady tapping against the floor.
"Answer me, damn you!" the bound man shouted.
The massive man struck him with a brutal punch, knocking out one of his teeth. The tapping ceased, and the silence in the cabin was suffocating.
After a few moments, the masked man finally spoke in a deep voice:
"On the twelfth of February, 1888, at precisely eleven at night, you and two other men viciously beat a woman before stabbing her six times. Do you remember?"
"What?" the bound man muttered in shock.
He hadn't forgotten that night—the night he abandoned his humanity and morals to settle a debt.
A powerful punch from the massive man interrupted his thoughts.
"Has your hearing failed you, you wretch?!"
The bound man coughed up blood before spitting it out.
"I-I don't remember anything, I swear!" he pleaded, his voice weak with exhaustion.
The masked man merely glanced at the massive man, who nodded silently before turning to the bound man with a sinister smile.
"Perhaps this will help refresh your memory."
The massive man gagged the bound man's mouth with a cloth. The captive thrashed and twisted his body, desperately trying to free himself, but the bindings were too tight—unyielding.
The towering man pulled a small pair of pliers from his bag, gripping the bound man's hand firmly. A muffled scream of terror erupted from the captive as he watched in horror, feeling as if a piece of iron was being pressed against his hands.
The massive man clamped the pliers around one of the bound man's fingernails and began pulling—agonizingly slowly. The bound man's muffled screams filled the air, as the rhythmic tapping of wood against the floor resumed.
The masked man, tapping lightly with his foot, spoke:
"Torture through sound is one of the most effective psychological torment techniques."
One by one, the massive man wrenched out the bound man's fingernails, deliberately dragging out the pain. Each time he removed one, he placed it atop the man's trembling, bloodied hand.
"Pulling them out slowly intensifies the pain. Instant pain is fleeting, but continuous agony will break your mind. Now, tell me—what was your motive for killing a defenseless woman?" the masked man asked.
The massive man removed the cloth from the bound man's mouth. Gasping for air, the captive wheezed:
"William… William Cutter… He paid us to kill that woman."
"Tell me the names of your accomplices."
"J-Jim and Jerry…"
"And?"
"They're always at the café, playing games. I swear to you! Believe me, please!"
The massive man nodded in acknowledgment of the captive's words.
"Well, that was easy, wasn't it?" the masked man said.
The bound man, on the brink of unconsciousness from pain, muttered weakly:
"I've told you everything… please, stop…"
"Stop?" the masked man repeated, his voice eerily calm, dripping with sarcasm. "Yes… perhaps it will stop…" He leaned in close, whispering into the bound man's ear, "When you're dead."
He patted the captive's shoulder as the man let out a final, desperate scream, his face twisted in despair.
The massive man gagged him once more, silencing him as the torture continued.
The masked man exited the cabin, leaving behind only destruction and chaos, his mind already set on his next prey.