EIGHTY THREE

~ Emmy ~

Having grown up amongst Gypsies you could guarantee there was always a fight or disagreement of some sort. One family was usually angry with another over something trivial. So once the beer flowed and mouths loosened you knew there would be some kind of punch up and blood would undoubtedly be spilled. I had seen many noses fixed, multiple joints forced back into place and bones mended with whatever tools were available at the time.

Blood gore and violence although not something I liked was definitely not foreign to me. However, as Wyatt flicked the light on I had to fight the urge to empty my stomach all over the floor of the dank and disgusting room we found ourselves in.

“Sammy.” I whispered my heart fighting to keep up with the panic I felt exploding in my chest. The whole one side of his face had been burnt off, leaving his eyes red raw and swollen. “My god.” I uttered, from the handiwork he bore, it had not been done by a professional torturer. But one sick and twisted