Belkhodja approached the strapped Dumont. He reached Dmont's eyes with his cold rapier and soaked it with tears. "Mmmm...", exuded his state of ecstasy as he licked them off the sword. Dumont had completely surrendered to his fate -- he was sitting perfectly motionless, and breathing only because the reflex forced him to. All of his soul had gathered in his nose, ready to leave the body once a sufficient excuse finally appeared.
"Mister... what was your name again?"
Silence. "Nameless is good, too. You will not be remembered anyways." Belkhodja reached Dumont's eyes with his rapier again. "So, you had the eyes to see my injustice. You had the ears..." The steel slapped Dumont's left earlobe. His tears, his sweat and Belkhodja's saliva slid down his neck. "...to hear my cruelty. And you had the balls..." The rapier stuck the seat between Dumont's legs. "...to plot against me. But what is the worst, is that you had the HANDS TO ACT ON IT!" The rapier slammed into the seat arm, slicing through Dumont's left index finger. At first he tried to compose himself, releasing no more than a groan, but his soul had already been broken, so his strength let him down and exploded into a scream that melted with a weep. Belkhodja indifferently pulled the rapier back into its scabbard, together with Dumont's blood. This was personal. There should not be a piece of metal separating him from the victim he was exerting vengeance on. He grasped Dumont's left thumb with his both hands and began yanking it to and fro, and spun it in circles in an attempt to tear it off. But the tendons were too strong, so he leaned forward and tore it off with his teeth. Then, impatient to complete the "work", he simply bent all the remaining fingers backwards, producing a crack. Dumont's soul was still trapped inside. With an acrobatic movement of his arm, Belkhodja pulled out his rapier again and, all part of the same movement, sliced Dumont's left earlobe off. Blood gushed out, but his soul still stayed inside, as did the pain. It made his eyes almost pop out -- but Belkhodja's rapier helped the one on the right do so. It stood stuck on the tip of the sword like a piece of fruit. No, Belkhodja did not chew it. But Dumont's mouth was conveniently open. He spat his own eyeball out between his legs. A thread of saliva still kept it connected with his bloody teeth.
Mitsubishi, a surviving member of the captain's guard, according to his grin was apparently taking pleasure in this. At this point he bent slightly forward to hide what he was ashamed of. It was not the fact that he reacted so on such a situation that he wanted to hide, but the fact that Kusarians were experts of miniaturization, and it was more of a disgrace to his family than something to take pride in. He was currently behind Belkhodja, but the old space monster had exceptional awareness. He noticed this. And it was clear what treatment Dumont was to get now.
"Enjoy", he said as he gave his rapier to Mitsubishi. Obviously very satisfied, Mitsubishi held the sword and caressed it with his glance. But, at that moment, something severely shook the ship, and he fell down. The handle ended up in his mouth. The rest was protruding from the back of his neck.
As if completely unaffected by this, and as if he had forgot about Dumont, Belkhodja casually gave an order. "Status report!"
![[Image: 396AUfe.png]](https://i.imgur.com/396AUfe.png)