Master of Lust

Chapter - 146

"Aghh!" Rick's anguished cry echoed in the room, reverberating with the intensity of pain coursing through his body.

Gasping for breath, Rick summoned the last remnants of his strength. With a determined effort, he launched himself toward the assailant, his vision blurred and senses dulled by the agony.

In his blind pursuit, Rick's chin collided with the intruder's shoulder, intensifying the pain that already wracked his body. However, driven by a surge of adrenaline, he succeeded in throwing the man away from Emily. The man staggered backward, desperately trying to regain his balance after the unexpected shove.

Rick, on the other hand, leaned on the bed frame to maintain his balance and forced his burning eyes to stay open on the man on the floor. The metallic tang of blood lingered in his mouth. He must have bitten his tongue when he banged his chin.

Rick stood between the man and Emily's body on the bed, spitting out the blood pooling in his mouth. He turned to Emily and noticed the way her skin had started to darken where the syringe was plunged in.

The man, clutching his wounded arm, shot Rick a malevolent glare as he stumbled to his feet. "You just don't know when to quit, do you?" he sneered, the corners of his mouth twitching with pain.

Rick, wiping blood from his broken nose and mouth, managed a wry smile coupled with bloody teeth. "Persistence is a virtue, they say. But you probably don't know much about virtues."

The man's eyes narrowed, and with a sudden burst of aggression, he lunged at Rick, a pair of forceps in his uninjured arm. Adrenaline surged through Rick, and he blocked the man with his entire body, shoving him back.

"You're a stubborn one, I'll give you that," the man grunted, his movements calculated despite the pain. He feigned a punch to Rick's face, attempting to catch Rick off guard.

Rick, however, was quick to parry the attack, and landed a blow to the man's gut, and when the man doubled down, he elbowed his back. "I've been through worse than an inexperienced hitman with a scalpel." Rick retorted.

The man chuckled, a sinister sound that reverberated in the silent ICU. "Worse, you say? You still haven't seen me at my worst." Stay informed with m-vl-em,py-r

Rick, seeing the man's bloody state and bruised face almost burst into laughter. But the man's aggressive fists, swung, aiming straight for Rick's broken nose, and Rick jumped back, narrowly dodging it. The man didn't deter and continued his assault. He swung his fist again, and went for Rick's throat, Rick shifted his head to the side as the man's knuckles met air.

Rick's mind raced, searching for a window to make his move.

The man, sensing Rick's retreat, pressed forward with renewed aggression. "Give up, boy. Don't make it harder than it needs to be."

Rick, ducking under a menacing swing, shot back, "Why? Tired already, boomer?"

Rick found a window between when the man raised his fist and dropped his guard. He took his chance and hefted his fist, but the man just blocked his parry, linking his arm through Rick's and landing blow after blow on his side.

Rick grunted, pain shooting up his entire torso. He was sure the man had torn through something. Blinking through the pain, Rick seized a momentary opening and grabbed onto the man's other man, twisting it till the man cried, and he heard a slight snap. He kicked the man in the chest and slumped against the wall, clutching his side.

The man grabbed onto his broken arm, holding it close to his body as he sent a seething glare Rick's way. Rick blinked back the tears that sprung in his eyes from the burn of the medicated saline water.

As the man struggled to stand up, Rick grabbed the tray on the bedstand where the man had stored all his medical instruments and slammed it against the man's head. The man flopped back down, yelling out expletives and groans.

"Fuck! Fuck! Fuck you, boy." The man clutched the back of his head and let out a blood curdling scream.

Rick grabbed his own head, drowning out the man's annoying screams. It was giving him a headache in addition to the one that was already growing at his temples, thanks to his blurry vision, cuts on his face, and severely broken nose.

He limped to grab scalpel off the floor where it had fallen, and just as he bent down to pick it up, he felt a surge of pain explode from his thigh. He dropped down on one knee, clutching his leg. Wetness spread through his fingers as he prodded around the area. The handle part of the forceps stuck out from his flesh, his jeans turning a dark brown as blood seeped through the fabric.

The man gritted his teeth as Rick shot him a disgusted glare. "Stay down," he repeated.

Rick just bit his already-abused tongue and swallowed the screams threatening to tear out of him as he ripped out the forceps, his hands a bloody mess. He threw the forceps away, and they skittered across the floor into a corner, leaving behind a bloody trail.

The pain was blinding, and he struggled to stay on his knee. Using the bedframe for support once more, he hauled himself up. Blood flowed down his legs, dripping onto the once pristine floor.

The man still writhed on the floor. One arm bent at an angle, and the other drenched the sleeve of his white coat in his blood. He watched as Rick loomed over him.

With a sudden and forceful kick, Rick swiftly expelled the arrogant expression that had adorned the man's face. As a result of the impactful blow, a combination of saliva and blood scattered in an arch, embellishing the floor with its gruesome display.

And the man coughed, spitting out more blood along with bits of teeth. Rick nudged the man with his shoe to roll onto his back and pressed each knee into the man's biceps, keeping him there. The man's hands were palm up as though he were surrendering.

Blood seeped like a river from the man's head, and Rick could hear the soft drip drip as it pattered against the tiles when the man raised his head to face Rick.

"You're just delaying the inevitable," the man hissed, a predatory gleam in his eyes. Even after all the assault, the man didn't seem to have any fear in him. "If you kill me, someone else will take my place to finish the job."

"Then, I'll kill him, too," Rick snarled.

The man laughed, blood gurgling in his mouth. "Then, another one will take his place."

Rick opened his mouth to answer, but the man beat him to it.

"Sure, sure, you'll kill him, too." The man eyed the syringe in Rick's hand, nearing him. He gulped. "But how many will you kill? Hmm? There will come a time when you can't anymore. Word of advice, boy: don't interfere in matters that aren't your own.

And don't mess with people who have money."

"Keep your advice to yourself, old man." Rick jammed the needle into the man's skin, not quite breaking it but putting enough pressure for fear to finally flash in the man's dark eyes.

"Those who can hire me, can hire dozens like me," The man's eyes almost crossed as he attempted to glance at Rick's thumb pressing down on the plunger, "I am not the last."

"Hired by whom? Roy Kent?"

The man's eyes shot up to meet Rick's. "When you have the answers, why do you bother asking?"

"I wasn't asking, dumbass," Rick pressed down his knees onto the man's biceps till he cried out in pain as he smirked, "What if I just kill that bloke? Then who will come?"

The man glared, his disdain evident. "You think it's a walk in the park to off the Mayor's only son? You're out of your mind," he sneered, his breath heavy.

"Easy? Maybe, Maybe not. Well, you would have heard the news. But it is too late for you. Your lifeline ends here," Rick grinned, his smirk packing enough menace to send shivers down the man's spine.

"You are of no use to me." Rick stabbed the man's neck, pressing down so hard that even the blunt edge of the syringe managed to break through the man's skin.

Then, he pulled back his hand back, syringe still in his grip yanking out the man's flesh. He did it again. And again. And again. Repeating the process till the white coat the man had on him could never be white again.

The man screamed and struggled and cried, but those fear-stricekn screams just propelled Rick to carry on. When finally the needle broke, but the man still had the energy to cry, Rick just tossed the syringe and leaned back to get the forceps.

He continued stabbing the man. On his neck. On his chest. On his stomach. On his thighs. His knuckles turned white, grabbing onto the forceps with all his might lest they slip.

Blood splattered across Rick's face, and soon the blood dripping off his chin wasn't just his own.

When finally the man's struggles ceased to have power, Rick jammed the forceps into the man's eye, and only then did the man turn completely still, his flailing hands turned limp beside his head. Rick left the forceps in the socket, and vaguely brushed his palms over his jeans, cleaning away the blood.

He rolled off the man's stiff body and onto his back. Closing his eyes, he stretched out his arms and legs. He needed a second.

"Fuck! It is so hard to get used to,"

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