Lillian hesitated, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. She glanced at Robert, who nodded slowly, his face still twisted with anger and confusion. Desperation flickered across his features—he was too close to getting what he wanted, too close to finding out his son's murderer. His wife, though hesitant, leaned closer to Dan, her grip still tight on his collar.
Dan's breathing was ragged, his chest heaving as he worked through the pain. His face was a mess of blood and swelling, one eye nearly swollen shut. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth, but his cracked lips curled into a grin. "Closer..." he wheezed.
Lillian leaned in, her face now inches from his. "Where is Peter?" she demanded, her voice a low, dangerous whisper. The glint of metal caught Dan's eye as her hand hovered near her waist, fingers brushing the handle of a gun.
Dan's eye flickered with something primal, a cruel amusement lighting up his battered face. "Closer..." he repeated, the words barely a whisper.
Her nose was almost touching his now, her breath hot against his skin. "Tell me!" she snapped, her voice shaking with frustration.
Then, in a sudden, savage burst of energy, Dan jerked forward and sank his teeth into her nose. The movement was so fast, so violent, that for a split second, no one moved. The sickening crunch of cartilage was followed by a high-pitched scream as Lillian staggered back, clutching her face.
Dan spat out a piece of her nose, blood dribbling from his chin. "Gotcha! Ahahaha!" he rasped, laughing madly, his voice thick with satisfaction. His laughter echoed in the hollow space of the warehouse, mingling with Lillian's muffled cries.
"Lillian!" Robert rushed to her side, his hands shaking as he tried to stop the blood gushing from her face. She writhed in pain, tears streaming down her cheeks as her hands pressed futilely against the torn, mutilated skin.
"You... you bastard!" Robert screamed, his voice cracking as he turned to face Dan, his eyes wild with rage. His fists were clenched, but his body trembled with uncertainty, torn between comforting his wife and finishing what they had started.
Dan, still strapped to the chair, only smiled, blood staining his teeth as his laughter grew louder, more unhinged. "Ohh.... your precious precious son... dead because of my deadbeat son" he taunted, his voice rasping and broken. "You....always had everything, Robert. Everything handed to you... looking down on us with your little handouts..... "
Robert's face twisted in fury. He charged forward, fists flying again, striking Dan repeatedly. Each punch was filled with the raw, boiling hatred that had been festering for years. But this time, it wasn't enough. Dan's laughter only grew louder, his body jerking with the impact but his eyes locked onto Robert's with vicious delight.
In the corner of the room, two shadowy figures watched in silence. The older man, calm and composed, leaned against the rusted steel wall, his arms crossed over his chest. The younger man beside him shifted uncomfortably, his brow furrowed in concern.
"Sir... shouldn't we stop this?" the younger one asked, his voice barely audible over the sound of Robert's fists connecting with Dan's already mangled face.
The older man shook his head. "He won't kill him," he said quietly. "Don't worry, his wife will stop him."
But just as those words left his mouth, Lillian, now half-crazed with pain, pushed Robert aside. Her hand reached for the gun at her waist, pulling it free in one smooth motion. "He's wasting our time," she muttered through gritted teeth, her voice thick with rage and the sharp sting of agony. Her hand trembled as she aimed the gun at Dan's head.
Robert, realizing what she was about to do, grabbed her arm. "No! Don't—"
Before he could finish, the gunshot rang out, echoing through the warehouse like a crack of thunder. Dan's head jerked back, blood spraying against the wall behind him. His body slumped in the chair, lifeless.
For a moment, there was only silence. Lillian's hand shook as she stared at the gun, her face pale and streaked with blood. Her chest heaved, and her eyes were wide with a mix of shock and fury. "Laugh now..." she whispered bitterly, lowering the gun.
Robert stared at his wife, his face pale as the horror of what just happened sank in. He stumbled forward, hands trembling as he reached out to Dan's lifeless body. "What have you done?? That gun?" he gasped, his voice barely a whisper.
"He was never going to tell us!" Lillian snapped, her voice rising in frustration and fury. "You're too weak, Robert! You wouldn't have finished him off anyway."
Suddenly, the sound of heavy footsteps echoed in the warehouse. Two figures stormed in their guns drawn. "FBI! Hands where we can see them!" one of the agents shouted, his voice booming through the room.
Robert's heart nearly stopped. He turned slowly, his eyes wide with panic as he raised his hands. "Wait—no, this isn't—"
Lillian, still clutching the gun, sneered at the approaching agents. "Or what?" she spat, her voice laced with venom.
The younger of the two agents hesitated, his finger twitching on the trigger. The older agent shot him a look, silently warning him to stay calm. "Put the gun down," the older agent ordered firmly, his voice steady. "You don't want to make this worse."
But Lillian wasn't listening. Her fury was blinding now, the pain from her mutilated nose driving her into a spiral of madness. She raised the gun toward the agents, her hand trembling with rage.
"No!" Robert shouted, rushing toward her in desperation. "Don't—!"
A single gunshot rang out, followed by several more. Lillian staggered backward, her body jerking as the bullets tore into her stomach. Blood bloomed across her shirt, and she collapsed to the floor, her gun clattering beside her.
Robert fell to his knees beside her, his hands frantically trying to stop the bleeding. "No... no, no, no..." he sobbed, tears streaming down his face as he pressed his hands to her wounds. "Honey, please... please stay with me..."
Her breathing was shallow, her body trembling in his arms. She tried to speak, but blood bubbled up in her throat. "Find him..." she whispered, her voice weak, her eyes fluttering as her strength faded.
Her head lolled to the side, and her body went still in Robert's arms.
"No!" Robert screamed, his voice echoing in the empty warehouse. "No, no, no... please..."
The older FBI agent holstered his gun and approached cautiously, his eyes softening with pity as he watched Robert cradle Lillian's body. He gestured to the younger agent, who stood frozen, his gun still raised. "Call an ambulance," he said quietly.
The younger agent hesitated, his face pale, but he nodded quickly and pulled out his radio. "We need medical assistance... two suspects down, one deceased, the other critical..." his voice cracked as he relayed the message.
Robert rocked back and forth, clutching Lillian's body, his tears soaking her blood-stained shirt. "Why?" he whispered hoarsely. "Why would you do this??"
But there was no answer.