Steve kept going, hitting Marcus again and again, sometimes carving strange symbols into his skin with his blade. The man screamed in pain, his voice raw, but still refused to speak. No matter what Steve did, Marcus kept glaring at us with hatred, biting down on his pain and keeping his mouth shut.
After a while, Steve let out a long breath and stepped back, his shoulders tense.
"Damn it," he muttered. "Why isn't this working?"
I let out a small chuckle from where I was leaning against the wall.
"Since when did you start taking failure so personally?"
Steve glanced back at me with a sigh. "This was my first real torture session, you know? I wanted it to go well. Can a man not hope for a little success?"
I pushed off the wall and dusted off my shirt. "There's nothing wrong with that, my friend. But let's be honest—your skills in this area might need a bit of polishing."
He smirked, clearly annoyed. "Why don't you try, then?"
I gave him a nod. "Gladly."
