This tale is an appendix to the story of Manel. In the comments, some of you expressed your desire to read about how I tortured Manel. Well, here you have it. Needless to say, it's not for everyone, particularly those more sensitive or squeamish.

I spent about 15 minutes describing the variety of tortures I would inflict on him, while Manel glared at me with hatred.

"And I can guarantee you that I won't make the same mistake you did. This weekend is for us, and I assure you that only one of us will make it to Monday alive."

Manel refused to believe that could happen to him, that it was impossible. He continued with threats and insults, tried to negotiate, offered me everything he had, attempted to manipulate me by telling me about the misfortunes in his life and the bad luck he always had. But he never reached the fifth stage of grief, acceptance. He didn't accept that this weekend would be his last, and that he would suffer just as he had made me suffer.

I showed him the baton again, and he immediately fell silent.

"While I prepare the tools, I'll tell you a story. Please don't interrupt or I'll use my little friend here."

I started laying out various utensils on a silver tray.

"It all began a couple of days after our 'romantic' encounter. As you can imagine, I didn't think I would wake up again, but there I was. Surrounded by my family, all with sad faces, and I had no idea why I was lying there. My mother crying, my father consoling her, and I was the center of attention. Suddenly, I remembered everything - pain, fear, helplessness, despair. A whole collection of very intense feelings that hit me all at once. Then something strange happened. I felt humanity as an enemy. I can't explain it without sounding crazy, but I could hear people outside the room, and I truly believed they were conspiring to harm me. When the doctor entered with some nurses and a psychologist, and asked my family to leave the room, I felt those people were there to harm me. That's when I had my first panic attack. You can't imagine the chaos that followed..."

I had everything set up neatly on the tray, all the utensils gleaming silver like they were a collection of jewels to be admired and cared for.

"...I only managed to calm down when my parents entered. With them there, I could relax. That's when they explained everything you did to me. Thanks to you, I got a new rectum at 15. They had to reconstruct it. Let's just say where my rectum used to be, there were only shreds left. You literally destroyed it. I spent several weeks in a wheelchair with a tube up my ass just to be able to take a dump."

I grabbed the castration pliers, and Manel got nervous. I reconsidered and left them on the tray, which seemed to relax him a bit.

"But let's stop talking about myself for a moment. I asked you a couple of questions before that you still haven't answered. Why did you never ask me ...