"Hush, boy. You know that's no way to talk to me." It had been a long way to get Raphael to address him with respect as he did now. Ever since he had broken him, there had been no more fun nicknames, no attempts at jokes. Something Lazar enjoyed, yet he still wasn't happy with the backtalk he got now. Asking for mercy? Surely not.

"You are still able to talk, you even moved by yourself. You can't have given that much yet." He reached for the blade and whistled. "Get on your knees, boy. I'll bleed you dry if I have to."