I open my eyes again and Dante is doing his best to dodge Turmont’s blade. He can’t put his weight completely on his left foot and he looks fatigued and injured. But he doesn’t give in and doesn’t give up.

“Mister Turmont, drop the knife… It’s frankly too unequal that way”, Jack Sanders says, annoyed, waving his hand in the air. He’s still sitting on his chair and he’s sipping another glass of liquor. He looks like a Cesar deciding the rules of his personal circus.

“Gaaah…”, Johnny Sanders wheezes from his corner. He seems completely uninterested. Brain dead. Probably he’s just mumbling to himself. Justine brushes his hair devotedly. I wonder how much she’s been paid, the bitch.

Francois Turmont smirks, doesn’t even turn his head to his boss. His face and head are covered with sweat. He lets go of the knife and it falls on the floor, tinkling. I sigh in relief.

“Bring in the others lions…”, he says then and my heart bumps into my chest.

The two bootlickers left are surrounding Dante and speaking in a rapid Russian.

”Withdrawn a step away, just to find my self
The door is closed again, the only one left
This storm that’s broken me my only friend
In this river all shall fade to black
In this river ain’t no coming back
In this river all shall fade to black
Ain’t no coming back…”

“Dagmar… Serban… take him”, Turmont says, and as soon as they put their hands on Dante, I close my eyes again. I can’t see anything, but I cannot stop hearing. I can hear them kicking him, hitting him repeatedly. I can hear the dull sound of his heavy body falling on the ground. I can hear his suffocated moaning, sounding more like a furious, defeated growling. I can hear Cassandra sobbing from the opposite corner of the room. I can hear Carmen shouting them to stop, and then holding her breath. I can hear myself, my heartbeat pumping furiously into my throat.

Then I open my eyes.

Dante is laying on the floor in fetal position, his handcuffed hands covering his face. Dagmar and Serban are kicking him hard, everywhere they can, and their faces are masks of amused furor. He just jerks a little every time they hit him, and tries to hold out all of his muscles and to resist. It’s too much. I gotta do something, anything, or they’re going to kill him.