‘No! Not the accordion!’
But it was too late, even though the man bound to the chair writhed and screamed there was no escape for him, not this time.
The man hidden in the shadows watched in silence, not moving as the accordionist went about his dastardly work.
Eventually the man bound to the chair could take no more, chewing his own head off from the inside rather than undergo any more torture from the deadly accordion.
When the man in the shadows was sure the accordion was silent, he pulled off his ear defenders. Then he stepped into the pool of light around the now headless, but rather bloody, remains of the man still bound to the chair. The man from the shadows sighed. ‘I thought he’d talk once we brought out the castanets,’ he said watching the torturer make the accordion safe before returning it to its music-proof cage.
The Musician-Torturer nodded as he cleaned his earplugs and placed them each in its own place in his velvet box, the box that had belonged to his father and his grandfather when they too were Musician-Torturers to the Emperor.
The man from the shadows, a shadow himself, dressed in black placed his thin white hand on the shoulder of the corpse, almost affectionately. ‘At least, he spared himself the bagpipes.’
‘He did talk though,' the Musician-Torturer said.
‘Yes,’ the man in black agreed. ‘But they all do… in the end.’
No comments:
Post a Comment