Chapter Thirty-Nine: The True Reflection of a Tortured Soul

215 4 1
                                    

Katrina:

"Sweetheart, don't give up, please..."

My eyes which are barely open register a soft feminine voice call out to me. My lips are dry, cracked, and mangled. My throat parched of water, wanting some liquid to ooze down my oesophagus to ease the uncomfortable ache.

"My darling, you have been so strong, please don't give up now," the same voice begs. I raise my head slightly, turning it to listen to the kind voice.

"Katrina, my daughter... please!" they continuously urge. The voice makes the ends of my lips curve up, although I wasn't entirely smiling.

"You're already hallucinating! You're losing blood, and that's making you see me!" the voice warns, their voice full of worry.

"So that's what I can feel," I tiredly chuckle, my voice hoarse. My brain begins to register the warm oozing sensation I feel dripping down my back.

"Katrina," my voice is repeated, but this time another voice speaks. A male voice this time caressed my eardrums as I look up to meet a pair of green eyes staring back at me.

"You're dead..." I sluggishly say as my tongue rotates around a metallic liquid which fills my mouth.

The tall male shakes his head with worry and places his hands on my shoulders firmly.

"And you will be if you don't stop hallucinating," the dark-haired male alerts.

"I can't do this anymore, Loki," I mumble, my voice begins to break. Loki shakes his head and places his hands on my cheeks softly.

"I won't let you die," he promises as I close my eyes as I feel salty tears trickle down my face.

When I open my eyes, I look up and no longer see my dead husband or mother. The pain begins to register as my synapses connect across my body, lighting signals in my brain.

"You son of a bitch!" I growl out as I feel the baton whack against my ribs, a cracking alerting the air and bouncing off of the walls.

My senses begin to co-operate as I am brought back to reality. My vision picks up that I am back in the cell I am transported to daily by Tristian's second in command, Henry. Henry was the one who inflicted the daily torture onto my body, and every day I would find myself experiencing the same routine.

First was the pain which lasted for hours, until my body could no longer uphold it. Second, was my body hallucinating the ones I love and have lost who would persuade me to live another day in this Hel. Third, I would begin to sense that I was on the verge of death and begin to heal myself. And finally, my body would reseal all the wounds perpetrated upon me, and the mental torture of knowing I would live another day would begin.

This cycle was the same for the past five months. I had spent nearly half a year in this Hel, and every day was the same sequence.

"Out of yourself and that pitiful excuse of a Prince, I do believe, my Queen, you are my personal favourite to play with," Henry says happily, as I spit out the dark crimson fluid in my mouth.

"I can't wait until the day I get to rip your throat out," I snarl venomously. Henry sideglances at me and strikes the baton against my side once more, chuckling at the action. The golden chains which connect to the ceiling are the only thing preventing me from kissing the concrete.

"Your Majesty, if you complied with the King's orders then you wouldn't have to be in this position daily," Henry reminds me. I scoff in disgust as I glare at my torturer.

"I will never agree to be with Tristian I would rather die!" I growl in anger.

"Well, it seems as though you're having trouble with actually dying," Henry states as he disconnects the chains from the ceiling which in turn send me tumbling to the floor.

You've reached the end of published parts.

⏰ Last updated: Sep 24, 2020 ⏰

Add this story to your Library to get notified about new parts!

The Tigress and The Frost giant | Loki & Avengers FanfictionWhere stories live. Discover now