Something From Nothing

One Final Breath

Achilles Morgan

A deep guttural scream tore through me like a great shard of glass. I felt my eyes widen and pulse quicken, my heart thudding like a rock rattling in a box.

The scream came again, desperate, terrified... human. The blood drained from my face before I was even aware of making a conscious decision my arms and legs were thrashing violently but I didn't move as I was chained to the ceiling and wall with ash metal cuffs clasped around my useless limbs.

A loud laugh barked across the room Gracein had ordered I be locked up in and I used the little strength I had left in me to glare weakly at the owner of that voice.

I didn't recognize the man which meant I was either slowly losing my mind or he had recently joined the pack after I had left. I didn't even know the man's name. Although I did have a few choice names for him myself. He rarely spoke and when he did it was just to entice me into his sick game or to laugh that rueful sound that hurt my ears like nails on a chalkboard would anyone else.

I had chosen to refer to him as Skully, due to the skull and crossbones tattoo he had on the back of both hands.

This man, whoever he was, could only be described as a demon straight from Hell. I thought I had met my fair share of monsters in my lifetime but never someone like this.

He had personally made the request to be my tormentor and Gracien had agreed with the simple order that he made me scream and didn't end my life. That wasn't helpful for me though because there were a lot worse fates than death and this was one of them.

Stripped bare I had been chained by my wrists to the ceiling so my arms and legs were spread evenly like an abused star. There was clear plastic underneath my hanging body to capture every last ounce of blood that was drained from my body.

I wasn't sure how long I had been here but it felt like weeks. Surrounded by four black walls, there was nothing else to do but stare at them. To look at the stone that had started to crumble off as time passed, or gouged by other prisoners - anything to pass time, slowly going mad, theorizing absurd meanings from the wall's blank stare. It was a nightmare.

No, not a nightmare because at least you can wake up from a nightmare this was my cold hard reality.

When my persecution had begun Skully had brought in a collection of weapons he'd use to torture me and he made sure to use every single one of them thoroughly. From Ash metal blades that sliced through my flesh like paper to a flogger with individual steel tips on the end of each lash.

He made it hurt. Every cut and slash of his whip made my body want to collapse in exhaustion and my head cry in agony.

I first thought I'd be able to take it. Just grit my teeth and pretend I was simply lost in all that was Logan. After all, I had already suffered through more pain than ever before but this was different. This actually made me scream. This was literal Hell.

Hell - that was the fierce word, the word to threaten children if they were too bad, the word to send shivers down a spine. The fiery demons whose barbed tails coiled and snapped, their whips sharp, their horns like mighty rocks thrusting from their heads, wings reaching far and wide to swallow the man that dare stand before them.

It bothered me that people felt the need to invent a hell of fire and brimstone, endless torture and suffering. It bothered me because there were hell's on earth that attracted little care or compassion. What of the child slaves and the starving children in the third world with their bloated stomachs? What of all the abused and raped people in the world?

This was another example of a real Hell. A place where there was no escape, no hope, no nothing. But I fought through it because Logan was safe, Alfie was safe, everyone was safe and that was all that mattered.