Constantino entered the dark corner where Wikly Jones was confined. The flickering light of the small lamp cast grotesque shadows on the damp walls.
“Devil...”
Wikly said about Constantino, earning a deep laugh.
“Want another bath, Wikly?”
“I do.”
It was hot in there, so he wanted a bath. Constantino turned on the faucet, adjusting the temperature until the water was hot, almost scalding. He watched the steady flow for a few moments. On the floor, Wikly was curled up, this time not from cold, but from fear. Constantino approached, holding the hose firmly.
“It's time for your bath, Wikly.” he said, his voice low.
Wikly looked up, his eyes wide with terror. There was no strength left in his body to resist. Constantino began to spray the hot water over Wikly, watching as the dirt and b
