The fight had left his body like a demon during an exorcism. He closed his eyes, lifted the bottle above his son’s head, and poured the contents. The screams were so horrific that only Lance and Zara kept their cold stares focused on the scene of destruction. The others had to look away. Stephan lost consciousness, and his head flopped down to his chest. Torvic just closed his eyes; the sight and sounds were too much to bear.

Zara continued to stare, her eyes fixed and her expression emotionless, as she watched Alastair shaking his head and screaming as the acid ate into his skin. It ripped into his bones. It devoured his eyes, leaving them as sunken sinkholes. The screams subsided as Alastair’s face melted away.

Torvic couldn’t look; all he could smell was the distinctive odour of burning skin. The decanter fell onto the concrete floor, and he instantly vomited over the glass fragments.

The macabre scene witnessed by everyone stunned them into silence, until Zara spoke. ‘Willie, would you sort out Stephan for me, please?’

Willie, already high from the exhilaration, instantly hurried over to the man slumped in the chair. Before anyone had time to grasp what he was about to do, he pulled Stephan’s head back and cut his throat with his knife.

‘Fuck! Willie! I meant, I wanted you to wake him up!’ shouted Zara, as she rolled her eyes.

‘Oops, sorry. Shall I give him the kiss of life instead?’

It might have been laughable if they’d been together watching a scene like this from a make-believe show in the comfort of Zara’s home. However, like the acid ‘show’ before it, this was death at its rawest. It wasn’t pleasant – and it wasn’t funny.

‘Oh dear, Willie!’ she sighed.

Torvic was numb. He looked at Stephan, who died instantly, and then he locked eyes with his granddaughter’s. Never in his life had he wanted to see her die, and he couldn’t bear it if they did the same to her. She looked so traumatized that he wondered, if she ever managed to leave this place alive, whether she would be normal again.

‘Right, Torvic. It’s time for us to get down to business.’

Torvic felt vomit rising again, but he nodded to show he was listening.

‘I take it you don’t want your granddaughter screaming like your son did, do you? So, I’ll let her go. But there are conditions. I want names and places. I want the name and details of your supplier. I want the codes you use. In fact, I want everything you know that will have me face-to-face with the man who makes this shit you call Flakka. And if you tell one little porky, your granddaughter will be put into an acid bath alive!’