Cruel Torture and Desperate Terror

Karl Miller's screams, like those of a rooster whose neck has been snapped, reached a chilling peak the moment the tip of the rebar pierced his flesh and touched his bone. Then, due to the extreme pain and the compression of air in his lungs, they quickly decayed into hoarse, intermittent groans, like a leaking bellows.

His eyes bulged, bloodshot, as he stared intently at the cold, foreign object slowly and steadily invading his body below his left shoulder. He could clearly feel the rough wire rubbing against the torn muscle fibers, and the sharp barbs scraping against the bone at the edge of his collarbone, bringing an indescribable torment far exceeding that of a gunshot or knife wound—a mixture of dull pain, sharp pain, and the sensation of a foreign object.

Sweat poured down his forehead, neck, and back like a waterfall, instantly soaking his already filthy clothes. His body trembled and convulsed uncontrollably as he tried to curl up backward to escape the terrifying intrusion, but the iron grip of the two men in black behind him held his shoulders and arms firmly, rendering him unable to move and forcing him to passively endure the attack.

The intruder in black (the executioner) moved steadily and precisely, like an experienced craftsman performing a tedious task. His face was expressionless, his eyes calmly focused on the angle and depth of the steel bar's penetration, his wrist subtly adjusting the force to ensure the painful process was long and clear enough, but not immediately fatal.

Finally, when the steel bar had penetrated about ten centimeters, the barbs completely embedded in the flesh, pressing against the hard bone behind the shoulder blade, and could no longer be pushed forward easily, he stopped. He slowly pulled the steel bar out a small section. The barbs scraped against the fresh wound, bringing another wave of excruciating pain, causing Karl to let out an even more incoherent whimper.

Then, the executioner twisted his wrist sharply!

"Crunch... creak..."

A tooth-grinding, subtle sound of metal scraping against bone mingled with Karl's suppressed, painful roar, forced from the depths of his throat.

"Aaaaaah--!!!"

The executioner released his grip. The threaded steel bar, still slanted and barbed, remained lodged in Karl's shoulder. Blood trickled down the threads and tangled wires like a stream, dripping onto the dirty cement floor and pooling into a small puddle.

Karl's body went limp, and he was barely held up by the two men in black behind him. The left half of his body was completely numb, followed by a wave of burning pain. Every breath pulled at the wound on his shoulder, bringing excruciating agony. His face was ashen, his lips trembled, his eyes were unfocused, and he was on the verge of fainting.

But the executioner clearly didn't intend to make him lose consciousness so easily. Another man in black stepped forward, took a small spray bottle from his pocket, and sprayed it into Karl's mouth and nose.

A strong, pungent smell of ammonia hit his brain! Karl coughed violently, tears and snot streaming down his face, but the strong, irritating gas instantly dispelled most of his drowsiness, imprinting the pain and fear more clearly onto his nerves.

"Hah... hah..." Karl gasped for breath, his eyes bloodshot from pain and the drugs, staring at the executioner in confusion and fear.

The executioner didn't even glance at him, turning back to the pile of "tools." This time, he picked up the large, rusty horseshoe with its edges sharpened to an unusually sharp point. He weighed it in his hand, the horseshoe making a dull clinking sound.

He walked back to Karl. No words, no warnings.

He raised the horseshoe, its sharp edge flashing coldly in the light, and then, with all his might, slammed it down on Karl's right shinbone!

"Bang—Crack!"

A muffled thud, followed by a clear, chilling sound of bone cracking!

"Ah--!!!" Karl let out a scream that was completely inhuman! The excruciating pain in his shinbone, as if he had been run over by a heavy truck, instantly overshadowed the pain in his shoulder! He felt that his leg bone might be broken! The intense pain made his vision go black, and his body twisted and struggled wildly, almost trying to break free from the control of the man in black behind him.

The executioner, expressionless, raised the horseshoe again, aimed it at the same spot, and delivered another brutal blow!

"Bang!"

"Ugh--!!!"

Karl's body jerked upwards, then went limp again, only gasping sounds coming from his throat; he barely had the strength to scream. Blood seeped from his tattered trousers, and his calf was twisted slightly at an unnatural angle.

The executioner dropped his blood-stained gloves and nodded to his henchman holding the horseshoe. The henchman immediately stepped forward, picked up the horseshoe, and stepped aside.

Then, the executioner picked up the old mop handle, which was covered with hard splinters and as thick as a child's arm. Instead of smashing it, he held one end of the handle with both hands and aimed the other end at the soft area on Karl's left abdomen, below his ribs.

He leaned forward slightly, then with a sudden burst of strength, he stabbed the splinter-covered tip of the mop handle hard! The movement was less like a thrust and more like using a rough stick to pound a sandbag.

"Puff!"

The sound of splinters piercing skin and muscle is dull and unpleasant.

"Ugh--!" Karl suffered a heavy blow to the abdomen, as if his internal organs had shifted. The excruciating pain, accompanied by a strong sense of nausea, caused him to gag violently, but his stomach was already empty, and he only vomited some sour water and streaks of blood. The rough wooden splinter of the mop handle churned in his soft abdomen, bringing an indescribable torment that was a mixture of dull and stinging pain.

The executioner twisted the mop handle half a turn, causing the splinter to scrape deeper into the internal organs, before yanking it out, bringing with it a spray of blood and some broken tissue.

Karl's body curled up like a shrimp, but the excruciating pain from the steel bars in his shoulder and the broken leg bones prevented him from fully curling up; he could only convulse in an extremely contorted and agonizing posture. Tears and snot streamed down his face, mixed with blood and sweat, making him unrecognizable. His consciousness oscillated between extreme pain and icy fear, sometimes clear, sometimes blurred.

However, the torment was not over.

The executioner gestured to the two men in black holding Karl down to turn him over and press him face down on the ground. Then, he took out several oddly shaped metal clamps stained with suspicious dark red dirt from his canvas bag.

They were several large pliers, but the jaws had been modified to be extremely rough, covered in serrations, and even welded with tiny iron nails—horrible tools. There was also a device resembling a tensioner, connected to a belt and a ratchet.

The executioner used one of the clamps to grip the tips of Karl's four fingers on his right hand, excluding his thumb, and then slowly and steadily began to tighten.

"Giggle... giggle..."

The teeth marks and nails of the metal clamps were deeply embedded in the flesh, squeezing the finger bones. The fingers are connected to the heart, and this slow, steadily increasing, oppressive pain targeting the fingertips was even more unbearable and devastating to the nerves than the previous blow!

"Ahhh--!!! Let go! Please! Let go! I'll talk! I'll tell you everything!!" Karl finally broke down completely, letting out incoherent cries and pleas, his body convulsing wildly from the excruciating pain, but he was held down tightly, to no avail.

The executioner seemed not to hear, continuing to steadily tighten the clamps until he heard a faint "clicking" sound from the finger bones as they struggled under the pressure, at which point he stopped. But he did not loosen the clamps; he simply maintained the pressure.

Then, he used another clamp to clamp Karl's left big toe and repeated the same process.

Next came the stretcher. The belt was looped around Karl's right wrist and right ankle, and the ratchet began to turn, slowly and steadily stretching his arm and leg in opposite directions. His joints groaned, his ligaments were stretched to their limits, bringing a new, bone-deep ache and a terrifying sense of impending tearing.

During this nearly hour-long, silent, methodical, and varied torture, the four men in black never uttered a single word. They didn't ask any questions, nor did they respond to Karl's screams and pleas for mercy. They simply and professionally took turns using those crude and terrifying tools to inflict various forms of pain on Karl, while carefully avoiding any potentially fatal vital organs.

This was not merely physical torture, but a complete mental destruction. This silent, procedural, and unreasonable violence was more effective at eroding a person's will than any threat or intimidation. Karl didn't know what they wanted, why he was suffering this, or how much longer he would have to endure it. The unknown fear and endless pain caused his psychological defenses to completely collapse.

Finally, when Karl was tortured to the point of being almost unrecognizable, his consciousness fading, even his groans becoming weak, and only his body still twitching from time to time due to excruciating pain, the executioner stopped.

He waved.

The two men in black who had been holding Karl released their grip. Karl lay limp on the ground, like a lump of mud. His face and body were covered in wounds and blood, steel bars were stuck in his shoulders, his calves were twisted, his fingers and toes were swollen and purple from being clamped, and his right hand and right leg were stretched to an odd angle. His eyes stared blankly at the rusty roof, only the faint rise and fall of his chest proved that he was still alive.

The executioner walked up to him, knelt down, and patted Karl's swollen, bleeding cheek with his tactical-gloved hand.

Karl's eyes focused with difficulty as he looked at the executioner. In his gaze, there was no longer anger, no longer pleading, only bottomless fear, numbness, and a sliver of... humble, desperate hope for an end.

The executioner seemed satisfied with his condition. He stood up and gestured to his companion.

Two men in black stepped forward, one on each side, grabbed Karl under his armpits, and dragged him up from the ground. Karl was in excruciating pain all over his body and could not stand at all; he was practically being half-dragged along. The steel bars in his shoulder scraped against the wound with each movement, bringing new and intense pain, causing him to let out weak groans.

He was dragged along, staggering, towards a dark corner deep inside the factory, where the lights couldn't reach.

There seemed to be a rusty iron gate there.

Seeing that door, seeing himself being dragged into the unknown darkness, a new, even colder fear suddenly welled up uncontrollably in Karl's almost numb heart! What were they going to do? Lock him up? Continue to torture him? Or... just get rid of him?

No, no way! Since they went to so much trouble torturing him without killing him immediately, they must be trying to get something from him! They wouldn't dare kill him! They are federal agents of the IRS! Killing them would mean making a complete enemy of the federal government! No matter how crazy Lin Feng is, he wouldn't dare to bear the deaths of two federal agents at the same time! Especially in such a cruel way! They must have something to consider! They're just intimidating, just putting pressure on him! Once the department discovers they're missing, they'll do everything they can to search for them! As long as he's alive, there's hope! Yes, as long as he's alive...

This thought, like the last straw a drowning man grasps, rekindled Karl's almost extinguished will to live. He even endured the excruciating pain, trying with all his might to look at the men in black dragging him and the executioners leading the way. They wouldn't dare kill me, they still need me... he told himself, trying to use this illusory hope to resist the boundless pain in his body and mind.

The executioner walked to the rusty iron door. A huge, rusty padlock hung on it, but the latch was loose. He reached out, grasped the cold doorknob, and then pulled hard outwards!

"Creak--Yay--"

A harsh, teeth-grinding metallic scraping sound rang out, and the iron door was slowly pulled open a crack.

A stronger, more intense stench, a mixture of animal excrement, damp mustiness, and something else... wild, pungent, wafted from the darkness behind the door! The smell was so strong, so unfamiliar, and so... instinctively unsettling and frightening!

Karl was dragged to the doorway. The executioner stepped aside, and the two men in black who were dragging him stopped.

The emergency lights on the factory roof shone obliquely through the open door crack, illuminating part of the space behind the door.

It appeared to be a larger, partitioned warehouse compartment. The floor was equally filthy, scattered with hay, rags, and some unidentified waste. The lighting was dim, making it difficult to see the whole thing clearly.

But at the very edge of the light's reach, Karl saw it.

He saw seven or eight pairs of eyes, their light gleaming a ghostly green in the darkness, filled with hunger and wildness!

Those eyes, like will-o'-the-wisps in the night, were fixed, unwavering, staring at the doorway, at Karl being dragged to it!

Immediately afterwards, a low, hoarse, and threatening snorting sound came from the depths of the darkness. It wasn't a single sound, but several sounds mixed together, filled with impatience, restlessness, and... a thirst for fresh flesh and blood.

Along with the gurgling sound, there was the rattling of chains dragging on the ground, and the ear-piercing "sizzle" of claws scratching at the concrete.

Karl's body froze instantly! All the excruciating pain, all the fear, all the wild thoughts—at this moment, they were all replaced by the unimaginable, nightmarish scene before him!

Dog?!

No, it's not an ordinary dog! Look at its size, its eyes, its powerful silhouette, and its deep growl... it's a large, fierce dog! It's very likely... a Caucasian Shepherd! Or something similar, a guard dog or fighting dog known for its ferocity and power!

They're kept here? Why? How can there be so many vicious dogs in this abandoned factory?!

A terrifying thought, one that made his blood freeze, struck his mind like lightning!

No... impossible... they wouldn't... they wouldn't dare...

The executioner gave him no more time to think. He nodded to the two men in black who were holding Karl back.

Without the slightest hesitation, the two men in black exerted their strength simultaneously, shoving the limp and powerless Karl, who was completely frozen in terror, into the open iron door that exuded the aura of a wild beast and emanated eerie green light!

"No--!!!"

Karl let out a desperate, inhuman scream! He desperately tried to grab onto something, but his hands were tied behind his back, and his body was too weak from his injuries to move. He could only watch helplessly as he got closer and closer to the door, closer and closer to the hungry eyes behind it!

In the last moment before he was pushed through the door and lost his balance, he caught a glimpse of Tony's already cold body lying not far outside the door.

The executioner stood in the doorway, watching him expressionlessly. The other three men in black also watched silently.

Then, the executioner reached out and grasped the rusty iron door.

"Crunch--Yay--"

The iron gate, under Karl's desperate gaze, amidst his desperate screams filled with endless fear and regret, and as his body crashed heavily into the darkness inside, eliciting an even more excited and frenzied barking and growling, slowly and firmly closed.

"Bang!"

The final, dull thud separated the two worlds.

Outside, silence returned. Only the stark white light of the emergency lights illuminated the empty factory, Tony's body, the mottled bloodstains on the ground, and the four men in black standing like statues.

Inside the door, after a brief silence, a chilling cacophony erupted—a mixture of rabid barking, wild growls, tearing sounds, chewing noises, and... the faint, rapidly drowned-out, desperate wail of a dying human.

Then, all sounds gradually faded away, and finally, silence returned.

Only the pungent stench of blood and the scent of wild beasts wafted through the cracks in the door, permeating the cold, polluted air of the abandoned factory.