chapter thirty five | torture

46 8 0
                                    

I KNOW WHERE I AM before I even open my eyes.

I'm in a cage - or a cell, whatever you want to call it. I'm trapped, my hands tied behind me. The rope burns my skin. He tied my legs too, as if I could do anything without the use of my arms. A cloth is stuffed in my mouth and tied around to keep me quiet. Fuck.

I already know that I couldn't have been out that long, unless he drugged me to keep me sedated. My body aches from the fighting from earlier. My chest feels like there's someone aggressively hugging me, preventing me from breathing.

I finally open my eyes, taking a good look at my surroundings. I wasn't alone in the cell, which I wasn't expecting. But although a part of me told myself to be happy I wasn't alone, the sight was painful to look at.

Lysander sat up against the wall across from me. Like me, he was tied up by the hands and feet. A gag prevented him from talking, so all he did was stare at me. I don't know how long he's been awake. There's fear in his eyes - fear that I don't remember seeing on his face since he was in elementary school. He looks tired, worried, so many things all at once.

He actually handled the fighting pretty well. There weren't too many visible injuries, at least from what I could see. A gash covered his forehead, and the drips of his blood went down the side of his face. There was a cut on his left arm, the blood soaking through his shirt. There were probably more scars on him, and in his mind too.

On the third wall of the cell sat Leo. Lysander could probably notice the horrified expression on my face, looking at our nephew. Tori was going to kill me, I'm sure of it. She's going to kick me out of the palace, because it was because of me that her son was harmed. It's my fault he was put in danger. This was my fault.

The boy was asleep, nodding off in an uncomfortable position. He was tied up by the feet, but there was a handcuff around hid right wrist. Blood soaked through his white, cotton shirt. Cuts covered the boy's body, and even one went along the side of his neck. I gulped, wanting to cry at the scene.

They probably tried to get information from him, because apparently giving Ansen the location of the last amulet wasn't enough. The best was to get a person to talk was by hurting them, and that's exactly what they did to Leo. They did that to a ten year old boy.

I look back at Lysander. I wish we were able to talk, the silence in the cell was killing me.

And apparently the silence doesn't last, as I begin to cough again. The gag in my mouth didn't help the sensation, making me want to throw up more. I'm sure the sandwiches and fries won't last in my stomach for much longer, unless I just happened to throw up in my state of unconsiousness. It wouldn't be the first time, but as far as I could tell, vomit wasn't piled on my skin.

Lysander's eyes peered through the bars of the cage as the footsteps began to echo through the basement of the town hall. I still don't know why the prison was located underneath the most important building in Fox Grove. The shoes of our captor came into view - black boots that were worn down over the years and covered in mud. I looked up, golden eyes and a wicked grin greeting me.

He pulled out the key to the cell, opening the door. The screech of the rusted metal door echoed in my ears, and was enough to wake Leo up. I glanced at him, terror filling his eyes as he realised where he still was. He looked at me, heaving for air. He was scared. And for some reason, he was scared of me.

I wouldn't blame him.

"At this rate, I didn't think you'd wake up until morning," Ansen said, entering the cell. He pocketed the key, away from my reach - as if I could grab it with my hands tied behind my back. "You seemed exhausted, love. Have you been sleeping alright?"

When The Stars AlignWhere stories live. Discover now