33 Endless Torture (2/2)

The waiter asks me.

”No. There won't be anything else, thank you.”

I response.

A window appears in front of my eyes, locating the vehicle immediately.

The car is parked a short distance away from the restaurant.

It has been there all morning, and it will remain there until I cross the road with my daughter.

As much as I want to go over there and flay the driver alive, he is only a hire hand. The one who tries to have me killed is someone much more sinister.

”Henry, Henry. Don't tell me that I didn't warn you. Everything has its consequences.”

I mutter and caress my daughter's head. Selene has confirm my suspicion.

Antigone looks at me before flicking the warm soup with her plastic spoon onto my face while giggling adorably. She can be so naughty sometimes.

As a father, I would probably do anything for my daughter regardless the cost.

I have grown to love her like I have never love anyone before. She is my flesh and blood after all.

Since I have decide to raise her, I will protect her to the best of my ability. Anyone who tries to harm her in anyway will wish for the merciful death like they never have before.

I runs my thumb over the stain and lick my finger with a smile. I allow Antigone to fill her tummy before taking her into the restroom to wash up.

I then teleport directly back home and try to settle her down into her bed. She didn't want to stay as she holds onto my arms tightly.

”Be a good girl, Anti. Stay here. Daddy will be back in a couple of hours, okay? Then we can both go to work and watch some wonderful plays.”

Antigone stares at me before lessening her grips. Once she is in the baby crib, her fingers curl around the railing while her violet eyes becomes watery.

Even so, she did not try to stop me from leaving after I tug her in.

I wonder if Antigone fully comprehend what I am saying.

Probably not since she isn't one year old yet.

I take one of her toys, a musical shaker with me.

One I have teleported back to the restaurant on Hollywood Boulevard, I exit the restroom and tell the manager in person to hold onto my things for me. I will pick them up when I am able.

The manager is more than happy to.

He did wonder where my daughter was, however. I tell him not to concern himself with such thing.

After leaving the restaurant, I head towards the vehicle. The door to the passenger seat is locked, but a well-placed punch through the window allows me inside.

”The hell are you doing!?”

The driver shouts. His profile appears for me to review.

”Stop the act, Austin or would you prefer to be called Brandon instead? I don't want to know why your mother and father calls you by a different name nor who has hired you. I do want to know if you are fully aware of who you are trying to kill?”

I question as I shake the musical shaker.

The seemingly indestructible toy that I have create for Antigone breaks up into silver sands of all sizes and shapes before swarming over the driver like a horde of flesh eating ants.

Austin or Brandon tries to get them off him, screaming in terror but the micromachines drill into his skin without remorse.

While not as advance as nanomachines, they will get the job done.

”Look at me.”

I order.

The micromachine force his head to look at me as his eyes becomes bloody.

His skins begin to peel off like tiny snow flakes, revealing raw muscle fibres underneath. Each strand of fibre snaps apart forcefully, one after another.

”You will feel everything until I decide you have enough or it is too difficult to keep you alive.”

I announce before leaving the vehicle.

Horrific screams soon echo the street as the micromachines break down his body bit by bit while keeping him alive and allowing him to feel everything.

He dies about 3 hours later in a hospital.

It is one of the strangest diseases anyone has ever seen.