Chapter 64
I jammed two fingers into his eyes.
Dug in until the flesh gave way.
His scream was the loudest of them all.
And all I did was smile.
I grabbed his hand and snapped his wrist in a single twist.
I didn’t stop there.
I grabbed each of his fingers and broke them, one by one.
The cracks echoed in the yard’s morbid silence.
My fists were soaked in blood.
The crowd wasn’t cheering anymore.
Fear hung in the air, thick and suffocating.
The Crusher was nothing but a broken, bleeding pile of flesh on the ground.
But my rage still burned, insatiable.
I stood, breathing heavily, my chest heaving in furious rhythm.
Then, I raised my foot and stomped on his head.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Even dead, I kept crushing, bones cracking under my boot, blood splattering my skin, staining my uniform even more.
The world around me had disappeared.
Only fury remained.
Only my need to destroy anyone who dared touch what was mine.
I looked at the crowd, who remained still, frozen in absolute silence.
My eyes scanned the inmates and then turned to the guards.
I searched for the one responsible.
Pietro, the bastard who organized the fights, was staring at me, pale, drenched in cold sweat
His trembling finger pointed in another direction.
I followed the gesture and found the real culprit.
Chapter 64
Edgar Langley.
The bastard who thought he owned this prison.
I had let him play king for a while.
And this was how he repaid me.
My jaw clenched, and every step I took toward him was fueled by pure rage.
The bastard tried to run.
But the guards didn’t let him.
I grabbed his hair and yanked so hard strands came out, reddening his scalp.
His scream of pain made me smile.
I shoved his face against the concrete, grinding his skin against the rough surface.
‘I let you play king,” I said, low and lethal. “You knew my reputation. Thought it was just a myth?”
He didn’t answer.
The fear in his eyes was delicious, but it wasn’t enough.
I needed more.
Much more.
I grabbed his arm and wrenched it upward, dislocating his shoulder in one swift motion.
The crack echoed across the yard.
The inmates stayed silent.
He screamed, but his voice was muffled when I dragged him by the hair to the Crusher’s broken body.
I shoved his face into the pool of blood on the ground.
“You wanted to mess with what’s mine, I growled. “Now you’ll pay for it.”
I stomped on his arm with all my might.
The bone shattered.
He tried to squirm, but I grabbed his face and slammed it into the concrete.
His skin split open on impact.
I punched his face.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
Chapter 64
His teeth shattered under my fists.
His body was already numb from the pain.
But I didn’t care.
I kicked his stomach, ripping a pained groan from him.
Then, I grabbed his face and scraped it against the ground again.
His skin tore further, blood spilling, painting the rough surface.
I pressed my foot into his back.
Once.
Twice.
Three times.
The sharp crack was almost satisfying.
He could barely breathe.
Maybe a rib had pierced a lung.
Perfect.
The last thing I did was lift my leg and crush his neck under my sole.
The screams ceased.
The yard fell into a sepulchral silence.
I took a deep breath.
My body was drenched in blood.
My hands, my uniform, my
face.
I looked around, my eyes scanning every terrified face.
And then, my voice cut through the air.
‘Anyone who dares touch my boy again… will die.”
The threat hung over the crowd like a death sentence.
“Anyone who thinks they can challenge me… come at me.”
No one moved.
No one even dared to breathe too loud.
Welcome to Hell
Chapter 65
Dante Castelli.
