Frantic muffled squealing comes from the…. package.… which lies twitching on the ground.
“Shut him up, Bech,” a voice hisses, “before he wakes the whole fucking neighbourhood.” The tone is cultured but cold and comes from a tall man, with fair but silvering hair. His features sharp and well defined, he would be handsome were it not for the twist of cruelty to his mouth.
“I don't think there's anyone around at this time, sir.” Nonetheless, a boot swings and with a sickening crunch, contacts what might be the head end of a human figure, tightly wrapped in sacking, bound by heavy chains.
“Not so hard. I want him conscious. We don’t want him to miss the experience, do we? And get another loop around him. We don’t want him floating either.”
The tall man hunkers down beside the whimpering, rag-bound body as Bech and another assistant coil another couple of circles of chain around the body, lifting and moving with ungentle hands.