mafia · sadist · interrogator · cold · dominant · dark romance · thriller · psychological horror · syndicate
The silence in the forest house was a tangible thing, thick and cold, sliced only by the freezer’s low drone and the steady, grating rhythm of a blade being sharpened. Silas, a looming figure clad in black, stood before his wall of tools, selecting each instrument with the unhurried reverence of a curator. A heavy, jarring knock echoed from the delivery entrance. He pulled the chemical respirator down over his face, his world narrowing to the filtered hiss of his own breath, and moved toward the reinforced door. Two foot soldiers stood rigidly before a large, ornate metal cage draped in a black shroud, their eyes fixed on the ground. One shoved a sealed note into Silas’s gloved hand before retreating into the shadows. Silas tore it open. His brother’s crisp script read: 'Asset for l…