Chapter 4: An Act of Mercy - Valeria

I must have fallen asleep at some point because I find myself being woken up by a knock at my bedroom door. I give my body a quick stretch and get up to open the door.

“Sí?” I ask as I see one of my family’s guards, Rahui, at my door with a nervous look on his face. Always amusing when I see a man over six feet tall looking nervous around me, though in this case, I can’t tell if he’s nervous about me or something he wishes to tell me.

“My apologies for the disturbance, Señorita Cabrera, but since you are home, you did instruct me to come to you if your brother was ever to get out of control with one of the prisoners,” he says carefully.

I close my eyes and take a slow deep breath in an attempt to keep calm before I open my eyes to look at the guard before me. “What has he done?”

“He is currently torturing one of the fish people in the White Room,” he informs me. That fucking room. I hate it. It was intended to be a room for interrogation, so we could learn more about supernaturals in order to stop them, but people like my brother just use it to get a sick thrill from torturing them for fun.

“Thank you for bringing this to my attention, you may go,” I instruct as I close the door.

I grab my suitcase and place it on the bed, opening it and removing my gun case from inside. I open it, pull out one of my Beretta 92Fs, load it and tuck it into the back of my jeans. I zip my boots back on and make my way downstairs, through the terrace and across the compound to the guesthouse. Which is just a nicer way to say prison. I nod in greeting to the guards who let me in without question and make my way down to the dungeons. The further down I get the more I have to resist the urge to vomit as the rancid smell of what goes on down here reaches my nose. It’s fucking disgusting.

I soon hear the sounds of crying, screaming and someone begging for their life, and I quickly speed walk in the direction of the White Room. I slam the door open and do my best to keep an impassive face at the grotesque sight before me. Laying in the surgical chair is a young man who can’t be more than twenty-five. He’s been horribly disfigured, his body is covered with burn marks, and he is screaming while my sick fuck of a brother is cutting off the poor bastard’s arm.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?!” I shout.

“This doesn’t concern you,” he says, ignoring me as he continues to cut through the man’s flesh as crimson blood coats the once-white floors.

I storm over, grab my brother by the throat and slam him into the wall, “The hell it doesn’t! We either kill them or we get information out of them, that is all. We don’t do THIS! They are not toys for you to play with or get your rocks off by seeing how loud they can scream as you cut them to pieces!” I shout indignantly, my breathing becoming laboured as my body shakes with rage.

“I just wanted to see if his arm would grow back,” he grins sadistically.

I let him go, stepping back in stunned horror at the monster before me. Supernaturals may be monsters, but my brother is an entirely different monster. I look over at the man weeping in pain as blood continues to flow from his arm faster than he can make it.

“Please,” the man begs.

I grab the Beretta from the waistband of my jeans, point it at the man in the chair and fire the bullet directly between his eyes, putting him out of his misery.

“What the fuck did you do that for?!” My brother screeches.

“Our mission is to exterminate supernaturals, not torture them. Doing so just makes us the monsters,” I say, stepping out of the room and leaving Mateo to clean up his own mess.

“You’re a fucking bitch, you know that?!” He screams.

I turn back to look at him without a single emotion on my face, “If I had a dick this is where I’d tell you to suck it,” I tell him and proceed to walk away, not sparing a glance back.

I’m about to make my way back up the stairs when I feel a strange pulling sensation in my gut. It takes me by surprise and has me stopping in my tracks. It’s not painful or uncomfortable, just… strange. I’ve never felt anything like it. I feel like I’m being pulled towards the cells, but I’m quick to shake off the feeling and make my way back up the stairs and to the villa to report to my father what a psycho his son is.