I was amused by the look on his face, the boy had so many expressions, all of them sorrowful, I could see the dreaded fear in his bright blue eyes. Such a sweet color too, he shared them with his sister, their eyes big and round, I could just lick them and taste such young tears. The boy looked up at me then over to his sister who was still catching her breath after being whipped, she glanced over to us with that face calling for help. But there was no one there to save them, not even the police could help. I could sense that the boy felt the need to be strong and tougher than me, to prove that he had what it took to beat me. I stared into his determined face, a portrait that spoke of revenge and murder, of fearlessness, but it was all broken when a single tear shed from his eye. He was scared.

I smirked with a yellow smile, "Don't be scared, it'll just hurt." Again the sound of my leather glove stretching as I gripped the brass knuckles flew through the air. I raised my arm and struck him across the face, I could feel my knuckles slicing through his skin, tearing his soul apart. My punch smacking to his jaw echoed through the room, his head laid limp looking at the ground. He tried to look up at me, shaking like it was freezing, but out of pain. I could tell he was trying to keep his dignity, but I was going to rip it from him. I raised my same hand and swung again, this time more along his upper jaw, I could feel my punch pushing his teeth out of place, cracking his pallet. What a wonder feeling and an amazing sound, I loved it. I looked over to his sister and the little brat had nothing to say, she only watched in horror, knowing how much pain he was going through, wishing I would just stop, but I couldn't, I was having too much fun.

I turned my attention back to the boy, his mouth dripping of blood and his head hanging limp, "Look at me," he didn't move, "Look, at, me" he still didn't budge, I started to get frustrated, "I said LOOK AT ME!" My hand swung upwards under his jaw, forcing his head to fling back, blood flying through the air. His eyes met mine and he looked miserable, I have to admit, I was glad he was still conscious, I can't have fun if their not awake. His body was like a rag doll, hanging there by force. "Much better," I smirked again before swinging my other arm slicing against his other cheek then swinging the other way before thrusting my fist forward straight into the bridge of his nose. I stopped beating him, even though I enjoyed feeling every bone shatter with my touch, he had enough of my hands. My gloves were covered in his velvet thick blood, his face torn up and his mouth drowning in his own red liquid.

I dropped my brass knuckles on the table before grabbing the small blade I was sharpening before and a blowtorch. I walked over to the girl, lifting her head to look me in the eyes, smearing the blood of her twin onto her cheek, "How does it feel to be touched and rubbed by the blood of your brother." I smirked before resting the blade upon the side of her neck.