Chapter 1
Last Christmas plays on a cheap radio upstairs, there was laughter, clinking glasses, and general, loud chatter. Shane barely hears it, his pulse pounding loud enough to drown everything out. The cold metal and tight handcuffs digs into his wrists as Victor paces in front of him with his eyes narrowed, and an uncomfortable calm on his face. "Last Christmas," Victor mutters, almost laughing. "You gave her your heart, why'd you give it away? Quit sniveling." Shane was unable to hear him through the anticipation, "Don't do this, please." Victor stood over him, silent and unblinking. "You used my family for your filthy sickness." He brings the blade to eye level, tapping Shane twice on the head with it. "Let's make sure you never do that again." He stated with a smile.
"Wait, wait, wait.." Shane barely cries out coherently. Looking around frantically, he catches an open laptop on the workbench in the corner, showing an almost bird's-eye view of the ballroom upstairs. "That's right" Victor talks as if reading his mind. "I saw everything. I didn't like what I saw, Shane."
Victor steps closer, his voice low and controlled. "You thought you were clever, didn’t you? Slipping around, cozying up to my daughter and then sniffing around the other girls. As if no one would notice. This is my property, this is my event, and you didn't think I would notice?”
Shane's breaks out of his stare at the laptop and back to Victor. “It… it wasn’t like that, I swear-"
“Don’t lie to me,” Victor cuts him off, leaning in. “I watched you, Shane. All those little games you played. Laughing, touching, acting like you belonged here. Slipping a roofie in her classmate's drink." Victor lit a cigarette.
In the ballroom upstairs, Christine glanced around, barely hiding her irritation. She tapped a friend’s shoulder, half-joking, “Has anyone seen my ex? I want to talk to him. I decided I'm not telling dad what he did." The screams were drowned out by the music and chatter.
All I want for Christmas is you 🎶
"I heard he left earlier."
Shane's right ring finger was gone, the stub of it still oozing blood, while the rest of his fingertips were raw, burnt, and blackened. His chest heaved, but he couldn't speak, just a rasping, guttural cry as he was left in agony, every movement of his body was reminding him of the price he'd paid for his sins.
Victor stood behind Shane, his hands steady as he worked. Shane was covered in sweat. The chair creaked beneath him as he strained against the cuffs, his body wasn't able to move at all. Victor gave a quiet laugh, noticing the way Shane’s eyes twitched when he grabbed the hammer.
He set the hammer down first, taking the plastic bag and wrapping it around Shane’s head, pulling it tight enough to make him gasp for air, but not enough to suffocate him. Shane’s body jerked, his throat constricting, he panicked. His hands gripped the arms of the chair, nails digging into the wood. He kicked his feet trying to break free, the bag smelled like cheap plastic, but all Shane could think about was the feeling of not breathing, of being trapped, of gasping for air with no way out. When Victor finally let go, Shane coughed violently, his chest heaving. He tried to speak, but his voice was nothing but a rasp, "God, please.. somebody.." Victor just watched him then walked around.
"You thought she was stupid, didn’t you?" Victor muttered, then dragged the pocket knife along Shane’s leg, the blade teasing the skin but never cutting deep enough to kill.
Shane twitched with each slow stroke as he cried. Victor was a patient man, savoring every second of Shane’s discomfort. When Victor finally grew bored of the knife, he tossed it aside.
"She thought you were a good man." Victor’s voice was quiet, almost amused, as if he were lecturing Shane on his failures.
He grabs the lighter from his pocket and flicked it on. Shane’s entire body tensed as the lighter’s flame came to touch his arm. “I can’t, please, I can’t-" He was ignored. It wasn’t a fast burn, just slow enough to make him feel it. Shane’s jaw clenched as the skin on his forearm began to blister. He didn’t scream. He couldn’t. His body was too weak to react fully anymore. Instead, his eyes flicked to the side, a bunch of quiet whimpers escaping his throat.
Victor grinned and stood back, admiring his work. He took a step back and kicked the chair over with ease, flipping Shane onto his back. Shane’s breath hitched and body shaking as Victor slowly pulled off his shoes. Shane tried to brace himself, but the pain was coming too fast. The first blow landed across his heel with a crack. "I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please, I-" He couldn't even see what he was being hit with but his foot jerked involuntarily, and he couldn’t move it far enough to escape. The second blow came quicker, harder. The pain shot up his leg, and Shane finally screamed again. "I'm fucking sorry!"
Victor placed the shoes back onto Shane’s feet, and placed his chair back up, as if nothing had happened. The shoes were tight against his swollen feet, and they didn’t offer any comfort. Victor gave him a look, as if the moment had meant nothing, then bent down and whispered, “No one is coming for you. You’re alone.”
He barely registered Victor walking away, his shoes clicking on the stone floor.
As he took a slow drag from his cigarette, Victor started to stare down at Shane as if he was inspecting a piece of trash. He exhaled the smoke. "You thought you could charm your way into my daughter's life, make her think you were anything more than a predator. But I know what you are, Shane. I saw how you used her, how you made her believe you cared, then turned around and did the same thing to every other girl here. You made her cry. Do you know how many times I had to sit there and listen to her defend you? When I had to remind her that you were nothing but a liar? I should've stopped this along time ago."
Stepping forward, he pressed the burning tip against Shane's arm as he flinched with nowhere to go. Victor slapped him hard across the face. "You disrespected me, you disrespected my family." He dropped the cigarette and grinded it out against his boot.
"Your balls are mine now."
