A dead man tells no tale.

Alpha Cyrus.

“If you think that I wouldn’t get rid of you just because you have done evidence against me, then I would advise you to rethink that decision,” I told the man in the calmest voice I had ever mustered.

“Then, go right ahead and do it.” He dared me, his eyes blazing like fire that could not be extinguished.

I bent down until I was looking at him face to face. I picked up the clipper that I had dropped in a fit of rage. Then, I grabbed his hand back. While still staring at his face, I clipped the clipper against his smallest finger. The howl of pain that came with the snap of the clipper and the small finger on the floor gave me immerse satisfaction than I thought would be possible.

I stood up from the floor and dropped the clipper in my hand, ignoring the clattering sound it made.

“I didn’t do it!” The man pleaded when he saw me looking at his other finger.

“You know what they say about dead men not being able to tell a tale?” I asked, looking at his bleeding finger a