“You may think my options would be limited as far as torture is concerned, especially now that you don't have skin to cut. But I've picked up a few new tricks that I think you'll enjoy."
Serpine moved his fingers in a wave motion, directing it at the chair he had just been sitting on. The wood creaked and groaned as it expanded and contracted, like it was breathing. The detective couldn't avoid looking at it.
”If I can do that to the chair," Serpine said, enjoying the moment, "think what I can do to bone." There was a loud crack as the chair splintered.
Serpine hunkered down in front of him. "Well, Skulduggery? Where is that tired old defiance— the taunting, the goading? Where are the endless heroic cliches? Aren't you going to look me in the eye and tell me to do my worst?”
”Actually, I was going to ask that you go easy on me. I'm feeling kind of tender today."
Serpine stood, opened his left hand in front of the detective. "This is your one chance. Tell me where the key is."
”OK."
Serpine raised an eyebrow. "Really?"
”No, only joking. Do your worst."
Serpine laughed and his fingers started moving and the detective started screaming.