Did He Seriously Just Wet Himself

Julian's screams were ragged, scraping against the cold stone walls.

His terror was a living thing, coiling in the dank air.

He begged, his words a desperate, broken stream.

Then, he began to smash his forehead against the grimy floor.

Blood, dark and thick, mixed with the dust, tracing paths from his wound.

A profound silence fell, heavy and suffocating.

The only sound was the frantic drumming of his own heart in his ears.

Just as the silence became unbearable, a cold, mocking laugh cut through it.

"You are not even worthy of competing with me for Evelyn."

Alexander's voice was slow, deliberate. Each word was a precise, cutting blow.

"Given what you did to her, payment is inevitable."

Julian shook his head wildly, panic distorting his features.

"It wasn't me! I swear I lacked the courage! It was Evelyn... she tempted me. She set a trap!"

A flicker of icy annoyance crossed Alexander's face. His dark eyes narrowed.

Silently, he lifted his foot, clad in polished, custom leather.

He brought it down hard on Julian's hand.

A sharp, pained cry echoed in the confined space.

"Which hand did you use to touch Evelyn?" Alexander's tone was deceptively calm, laced with a deadly chill. "Tell me."

Julian's face went ashen. His whole body trembled from the fresh agony.

The stomp itself wasn't crippling, but his body was already a canvas of bruises from Alexander's men.

This new pain was fire on raw nerves.

His screams were raw, tearing from his throat, echoing pointlessly in the soundproofed basement.

"Alexander Blackwood!" Julian choked out, his voice thick with hatred.

He glared up, fury burning in his eyes.

Alexander observed his hatred with utter detachment.

"Both hands, then?" The question held no emotion. "If you cannot control them, you do not need them."

A slight nod from Alexander was all it took.

Two men moved forward. One pinned Julian to the cold floor. The other grabbed his wrist.

A brutal twist.

A sickening crack echoed, clear and final.

A horrific shriek ripped from Julian. His face drained of all color. Cold sweat drenched him.

His throat felt shredded.

Pure, undiluted hatred blazed in Julian's gaze. "Alexander! You will pay for this!" he spat, his voice trembling with venom.

"Continue," Alexander commanded, his tone flat and merciless.

A moment later, the same brutal twist was applied to Julian's other hand.

The compounded agony was too much. A final, guttural roar escaped him before darkness swallowed his consciousness.

His respite was brief. Mere seconds later.

"Wake him," Alexander ordered.

A bucket of icy water was thrown over Julian's head.

He jolted awake, gasping, his mind a fog of pain and confusion.

"For every hurt Evelyn endured, you will suffer double," Alexander stated, his voice low and ominous. "It is too soon for you to escape."

Trembling uncontrollably, Julian looked up. He met Alexander's gaze.

The promise of death in those dark eyes froze the blood in his veins.

His body shook beyond his control.

A foul odor suddenly permeated the air.

Alexander's men exchanged glances of disgust. A dark, wet stain spread beneath Julian.

The sharp, acrid smell of urine mixed with the basement's dampness.

"Did he seriously just piss himself?" one man muttered, his face a mask of contempt. "Disgusting."

Stripped of all dignity, consumed by primal fear, Julian groveled.

His voice was a broken whisper. "Alexander, never again! I swear it! I will never go near Evelyn again! Please, just let me go!"