Brown Eyes
Rodriguez stood perched at his favorite corner in his favorite position. Ankles locked, arms folded. He watched with angry eyes the man that dangled in the middle of the room. He had been strung up with chains fixed into a beam on the ceiling. His men had done a good job with him, aside the stab in his thigh, which he had given him personally, the man’s body was littered with wounds and whip marks.
Rodriguez had left most of the torture to them. He knew just how much they enjoyed it, he himself guilty of the pleasures. He had let them have their fun with this one though, with only one instruction. Find out who sent him.
They still haven’t been able to c***k him on that one, which made bullets of rage run through Rodriguez’ being. Although something interesting had happened.
