"Forgive me, Father, for I have failed. I could not bring them back."
General Kézar sat beside the confessional with a shameful expression, head lowered and eyes fixed on a random spot on the floor.
"There is nothing to forgive, my boy," the priest's voice replied compassionately from inside the confessional. "We all fail sometimes. But take heed—mistakes will no longer be tolerated. God is good, but He is just, and He knows how to punish those who displease Him."
"Give me another chance, Father! I will not fail. I will certainly kill that succubus and bring the girls back, even if I have to drag them by their hair," the general said, hatred burning in his eyes as he ran his hand over the bandaged stump where his hand used to be.
"No. You have already had your chance. Call the one they call the Possessed Mercenary, Lúkin Ivanov."
"But Father, a mercenary? A man who does not care about sacred purposes? A man who allowed a demonic spirit to inhabit his own body in exchange for power? His body is inhabited by a demon, Father! He is profane! A cursed sinner! We should not deal with such strange people. He is not worthy of doing God's work!"
The priest clicked his tongue in irritation.
"Let the profane fight among themselves, boy. When they are done, we will only need to kill the survivors. God works in mysterious ways, and sometimes even the possessed can be useful."
Kézar wanted to insist on his protest, but changed his mind. He knew it would do no good.
He stood and walked toward the exit, pausing briefly to admire once more the luxurious architecture of the temple.
Outside, the scene was completely different.
The luxury and brilliance gave way to dirt ground and people covered in soil from working the fields. In the center of the courtyard stood a wooden post used for corporal punishment.
Kézar sighed.
It was time to prepare the mission package for the Possessed Mercenary.
His arms were raised, locked in iron cuffs attached to chains. His toes touched the ground, but not enough to support his weight.
The pressure of the iron cuffs against his wrists felt as if it might shatter his bones and rip his hands off at any moment. Because he was naked, countless bruises, cuts, and all kinds of wounds were visible across his body.
In front of him stood another man—muscular, with sadistic eyes—delivering punch after punch into the chained man's abdomen.
With each blow, the prisoner's body twisted and he groaned in pain.
"Where is it? Where is the crystal?" the attacker growled through clenched teeth.
"I don't… damn it… I already told you I don't know," the prisoner replied weakly, coughing faintly.
"Then you'll keep getting beaten."
The barrage of punches continued for several more minutes.
The unfortunate man seemed no longer bothered by the blows.
He only waited for death.
He wanted death.
"Damn it," Lúkin Ivanov said from a chair in the corner where he had been watching everything. He stood up with a sigh. "I'm bored."
He walked up to the mountain of muscles standing before the chained man and tapped him on the shoulder.
"Go rest those arms, Andrei."
Lúkin looked at the chained man and sighed again.
At that moment the door opened and a girl entered. She wore a black business suit and had neat bangs across her forehead. In her hands she carried a small wooden box.
"Lúkin, a mission box just arrived. It's from the Watchman's Cross."
"The Cross? It's been a while. I wonder who they want me to kill now."
The girl shrugged.
"You know what to do, Kath."
She nodded. She had done it hundreds of times before. But before leaving, she glanced at the chained man in the middle of the room with interest.
She ran her tongue over her lips and felt warmth rising through her thighs.
"Take some good pictures of that one, Lúkin. He's pretty hot."
She turned and walked out the door.
She took the box to her office to open it, check the mission details, confirm that a minimum amount of bitcoin had already been transferred, verify the target's identity and possible location, run a satellite search, begin hacking the appropriate security cameras, and anything else necessary.
A sample of the target's blood—when available—was always extremely helpful.
That way they could use Leif's compass.
As soon as Kath left, Ivanov looked at the chained man and sighed again.
"Hot? Kath has strange tastes."
"Strange is putting it mildly," Andrei said. "That woman is downright demonic! Who the hell gets turned on taking pictures of corpses?!"
Ivanov frowned.
Andrei lowered his head, embarrassed, remembering the situation of his boss.
"Not that being demonic is bad, of course! On you it actually has a certain charm!"
The Possessed Mercenary burst out laughing.
"Relax, Andrei. Kath definitely has something demonic about her."
Lúkin circled the chained man, moving behind him. Shaping his hand like a claw, he pressed it against the man's back just below the cervical spine.
He could feel the vertebrae beneath the skin.
The prisoner struggled and groaned.
Lúkin's fingers sank into the wounded flesh like thorns. Bright red blood ran down the man's back and dripped onto the floor.
The prisoner no longer groaned—he screamed in agony and desperation. The chains rattled violently as he struggled. His desperate feet tried to find the ground but only brushed against it.
Lúkin pushed his fingers deeper into the flesh until he could grip a vertebra with his hand.
"Last chance. Where is the crystal?"
"Aaaargh! Please! I don't know! I don't know! But… but I know who does! Please!"
"Oh? We're making progress. Give me a name."
"Pontes! Lieutenant Colonel Juan Pontes! Aaargh! It was him! He kept the crystal after those bastard miners dug that damn thing out of the ground! Damn it! That's all I know!"
"I believe you," Lúkin Ivanov said calmly, with peaceful eyes and a smile that seemed almost comforting.
Then he pulled the vertebra out of the man's back, causing the cervical spine to burst out of the neck along with several thoracic vertebrae.
Blood sprayed everywhere, staining Ivanov's clothes and splashing across his face.
The man let out one final scream that quickly faded.
Ivanov pulled again, drawing the entire spinal column out of the body.
The spine hung from the corpse like a tail while a pool of blood and whitish slime formed on the floor.
"I'm going to take a shower," Lúkin said to Andrei. "Take the pictures for Kath, please. Then we'll all meet in her office."
Andrei nodded and pulled his phone from his pocket.
Ivanov inhaled deeply, almost with pleasure.
"I have a feeling things are about to get very violent from here on out," he said with an apathetic gaze.