After a good while, Andrei stopped me, just a gesture of his hand. I dropped the belt and tried to catch my breath. I never knew giving a whipping could be so exhausting.
But the night was still far from over, as our guy was going to find soon enough. Andrei handed me a knife. "Cut him free."
So I did. At first, I tried actually removing the tape, but Andrei stopped me. "Not now, Sasha. He'll lose too much blood. Maybe later." So all I did was cut the tape that wasn't glued to his skin – leaving the rest there.
Once done, Andrei circled him, sitting behind him, his face almost touching the waiter's, hugging him hard – immobilizing our guy in a sitting position, right on the edge of the bed. "Do you think this is over? Huh?" He smiled, waiting for an answer that he knew well couldn't come. "No, my friend. This has just started. Now, tell me. Do you want it to be over yet?"
The guy again nodded as is his life depended on it.
Then Andrei ripped the guy's tape gag and asked again. "I didn't hear you, my friend. Do you want to die?"
The waiter's eyes shut tightly. Finally understanding. It had all been a lie, there was only one way out, and it was Death itself. Tears started to run down his cheeks again. "P-please... I won't tell anyone..."
"Are you deaf now? Huh? I asked a simple yes or no question. I'm still waiting for an answer. Do you want to die?"
The guy couldn't answer, but he tried hard to shake his head. Idiot. Well, to be honest, it's not as if his answer could change anything.
Andrei kept pushing. His goal was clearly to get a yes. "Oh, well. Alright, then." His eyes locked on mine. "Sasha. Break his legs."
Oh-kay. I stepped forward and stomped on his knees, one by one, holding the legs extended with my left foot. The knee joints popped out of their place, bending in an unnatural angle. I managed to cover my ears as he was starting to scream – 'cause if you add the serum to the overwhelming pain of a knee bending backward, let me tell you – it's not something you can stand up to, even with a lot of training.
Once he calmed down a bit, he started mumbling actual words. "Oh, god, please, okay, okay, just kill me already... Please..."
Andrei drew a gun out of the waist of his pants and placed the barrel against the waiter's temple, softly grazing it. "You sure about this?"
I held my breath. I knew him better than to fall for it, but this wasn't his trusty revolver, always loaded to play Russian roulette – that old trick where he always knew where the single bullet was. This was the pistol – loaded to actually shot when needed. No safety net here.
The waiter had his eyes closed, and was sincerely pondering whether death was better than life – his whole body trembling of fear, terrified of death, scared to death of what life – us – could bring. He finally nodded.
Andrei whispered eerily into his ear. "Then say it. Beg me to kill you."
The guy started whimpering again. Deciding when in agony was one thing, nodding was another, but this... this was too damn much for the poor thing. "P-please... Please, man... don't do this... Please..."
It was painfully obvious that he couldn't say it even if his life depended on it. So Andrei pulled the trigger. ... But not before aiming the gun forward, so all the guy would get was a loud bang on his ear, probably a burst eardrum – but not a bullet through his head. Oh, well. I told you I knew he wouldn't.
Our guy let out a scream, then he realized this dead thing wasn't so bad – or rather, he wasn't dead at all. He looked at me, puzzled. He'd... heard the gunshot, right?
I smiled at him. "My friend, you don't get to die yet. And definitely, not like that. Bang and it's over?" I shook my head. "Do you really think Andrei is such a nice guy to do that?"
