Master of Lust

Chapter - 143

Rick's patience reached its breaking point, and he demanded answers from Roy with a stern gaze. "What the hell do you mean?" All he got in response was a sinister grin from Roy.

Without hesitation, Rick's fingers intertwined with Roy's hair, and he forcefully yanked his head up. "Speak up!" He barked, his eyes narrowing beneath the guise of the old man.

Roy, still wearing that disturbing grin, erupted into a maniacal laughter that resonated across the desolate landscape, shattering the fragile tranquility that lingered in the air. The mixture of blood, sweat, and tears on Roy's face, coupled with his psychotic cackle, sent prickled Rick's nerves. The agony Roy endured seemed to have unleashed a madness that Rick struggled to comprehend.

In the blink of an eye, Roy clamped his mouth shut, fixing Rick with a gaze that conveyed pain and defiance. One remaining eye, blown wide open, met Rick's stare with an intensity that spoke of unyielding spirit. His jaw, now locked, gave his expression a stoic quality, while his lips formed a determined, thin line.

A nasty gash swallowed up half his eyebrow above the empty socket, and blood dripped down the side of his cheeks and fell from the tip of his chin in a narrow stream. It seemed like even if Rick enforced more pain on his beaten-up body, there was a good chance he wouldn't feel it anymore

As the echoes of manic laughter faded, Rick, his teeth gritted in a simmering anger, demanded an explanation from the battered and bloodied Roy, "Had your fill, you sick fuck? Now talk."

Roy savored the moment, a wicked glint in his eyes as he rhythmically clicked his tongue, "You old man. You stupid, senile, poor old man. I don't know who you are..." He coughed then, spitting out blood and a couple of shattered remains of teeth on his lap. "But did you really thought you had everything under control, didn't you."

Rick's eyebrows furrowed. "The fuck you on about?"

"You see, while you are here giving me such go—" More coughs sputtered out from him. He breathed in deep lungfuls of air, only to exhale it in more guttural coughs. Did he puncture a lung? When he sobered, with more tears streaming down one side of his face, he continued. "Such good company. Emily's having a lovely visitor dolling out the same delightful treatment."

Rick's hands turned into fists at his sides, and he forced himself to keep his composure. Only till Roy finished talking. Only till then. Because after that, Roy was a dead man.

"Now, that lovely visitor is not a barbarian like you," he said. "All he needs to do is add a little extra potion to put poor, slutty Emily to rest. Simple as that."

Rick lost a smidge of his control and roared, "Don't play games with me, Roy!"

Roy, with just as much vigour, screamed, "Don't think you're in a position to make demands!" And once more, he was reduced to violent coughs, racking his entire broken frame.

"What is he going to give her," Rick demanded. He only got more coughs as a response, and he hit Roy's back harshly, forcing him to stop. "Answer me."

"Patience, old man," Roy sneered. "Just a little something something that will help her rest forever. But of course the angonizing pain will come first. First a little tingle in her toes and fingers. Slowly it will move up her arms and legs, and that's when she'll feel the fire burning inside her veins.

Scorching, hot fire burning her from the inside out. Poor girl won't even know what's happening. And when the potion reaches its fullest extent, when it gets to her brain." Roy closed his eye, and a slow, wolfish smile tore through his busted lips.

"It will be glorious." His words dripped with sadistic satisfaction, and the repulsive grin etched on his face reflected the disturbing picture of the impending horror.

"Oh, I forgot," Roy spit another mouthful of blood as he showed whatever remained of his broken teeth, "He might enjoy that sultry body of hers before putting a hyphen on her life line. He is quite a loving man you know."

Roy just looked at Rick with a chilling grin. "So, old man, did you like my plan?" he sneered.

Without uttering a word, Rick reached into the folds of his robe and pulled out a needle from the system—a venomous needle he had acquired during his trip to Whispering Wetlands.

"Aaahhh!!!" With a swift motion, Rick plunged the needle into Roy's thigh Roy's maniacal laughter turned into agonized screams as the venomous substance began its malevolent work.

Purple lines snaked across Roy's thighs, a gruesome visual of the venom spreading through his body. Rick, maintained a cold composure, and stepped back as Roy writhed on the chair, his body jerking this way and that. His veins bulged and expanded as the venom pushed its way through the thin tunnels.

"Wha—What is happening?" he asked, following the purple lines as they raced across his torso.

"Oh my dear, dear boy," Rick said in mock consolation. "You were so excited about the treatment Emily is about to receive, I only though it fitting for you to have the same luxury."

"No," Roy shrieked. "No. You're lying."

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Rick simply shrugged. "Say what you will, young master. You'll soon experience the fire in your veins, as it takes over your heart. Your insides will burn in a sad pile of pain. And you will do nothing but bear it and ride it through until you are nothing but a rotting corpse in the middle of nowhere."

"And don't worry. It won't be over soon. My love and care for you young master transcends heaven and earth. I love you... I love you to the moon and back." Rick gently caressed Roy's cheek with affection.

"And this love you will experience for the next seven hours. So don't forget to miss me with every breath of yours that is remaining."

~~~~~

A man entered the room at the end of the hallway with a tray in his hand, again with alcohol and drugs. Mrs Patterson had sent him to check up on the rave going on and whether or not anything more was needed. Some of the housekeepers wanted to clock out for the night, and the man was among them as well. The man lamented this part of the job everyday.

He was the housekeeper, but most days he felt like Roy Kent's babysitter.

He sighed to himself as he prayed to the gods above that the next party was a couple of nights away. There was only so much vomit he could clean in a week.

When after a thorough circle of the room, squeezing in between the gyrating bodies and passed out adults on the floor, he still couldn't catch ahold of the young master, panic had set in. He hurried back to the kitchen already dreading what was to follow.

Mrs Patterson, the head housekeeper, eyed him as he scurried inside the kitchen, "What is wrong? Does the Young Master need something else?"

The man shook his head and braced himself against the counter. "Young Master is not here."

"What do you mean? Where is he then?" exclaimed Mrs. Patterson, her stoic expression contorting to one of worry.

"I checked the living room, his room, his bathroom, even the study! He is not there!" The man said, pulling at his fingers.

"He can't just vanish into thin air!" One of the kitchen staff, joined in. She dropped the knife on the cutting board. "Come, we will go search the other rooms. One of you go to the garden and check. Check if his car is still here."

The servants, the maids, and even the cooks everyone hurriedly moved from room to room, whispering amongst themselves in hushed tones. The tension escalated as more staff members joined the search, their footsteps echoing through the wide corridors. Doors were opened and closed with a sense of urgency, the once immaculate mansion now a scene of disorder.

Amidst the chaos, the butler, Mr. Thompson, approached her. "We have searched every inch of the mansion, and there is no sign of Young Master Roy."

Mrs. Patterson's expression darkened when she said, "I think we will have to call the mayor immediately. We need to inform him about this."

~~~~~

The beeping and humming of the ventilator and heart monitor filled the silent space of the ICU ward as Olivia sat by Emily's bedside, her eyes fixed on her daughter's still form. Olivia's hand tightened around Emily's when a man walked in with a white coat. Olivia looked at him, puzzled.

"Umm... Doctor? Why are you here?" she asked, eyeing the stethoscope around his neck and the pristine slacks he wore that didn't have a single wrinkle on them.

"Hello Mrs Clarke," The man met her gaze with a calm demeanor. "I am here to check on Emily," he stated, his tone unwavering, almost bordering on boredom.

"But the doctor..." Olivia raised an eyebrow, her concern evident. "The doctor just left now. What is the need for another check so soon?"

The man's lips curved into a smile, his eyes holding a glint of mystery. "Sometimes, a second look reveals what the first may miss."

Olivia's brow furrowed. "I don't understand. Do you want to run more tests?"

"Tests?" The man's smile persisted as he said, "Yeah, something like that. But I might have to use my own means."

"But don't worry. I am quite good at my job," The man placed his hand on Olivia's shoulder and smirked, "You won't have a chance to complain."

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