Halls of the Dead

~Chapter 19- The Secret~

~Chapter 19- The Secret~

Deporah and Norton anxiously waited near the secret pathway in the basement. They had lost track of time when a mechanical whirring stirred from the dead-end wall, and it began to rotate. The two made themselves scarce, and King Whedon stepped out.

He gave a brief look around before making his way back the way he came, completely oblivious to Deporah's presence as he passed them by.

Once his footsteps faded, they turned down the dead-end corridor, and Deporah unlocked the passageway. She and the Prince stood close as she spun the wall until they were on the opposite side.

She released the wall, and it locked into place. They found themselves in a pitch-black descending staircase. Deporah grazed her hands along the wall as they went down uneven steps.

"Careful," Norton whispered.

They descended until they saw lighting further down the staircase. But there was something else emanating from below. An awful stench that stirred terrible memories for Deporah.

Deporah unsheathed the rapier at her hip and drew it out in front of her.

"What do you have that out for?" Norton asked.

"We have no idea what's waiting for us. I want to be ready."

They continued further down until the staircase was properly lit. Granules of red sand dotted the ground beneath them. Once they reached the bottom of the stairs, the floor was lined entirely with red sand. Torches lined the walls of a corridor leading to a large, open room.

The smell only became more horrid, but they pressed on. At least, until they heard the pained wailings of a man coming from down the way. It was accompanied by the slow breathing of at least one other.

Deporah gripped her sword well and inched forward into the large. open room. It appeared to be some sort of dungeon. On one wall was a table with implements scattered across it. Knives, daggers, scalpels, funnels, ropes, and straps. There were several barrels along the wall; one was open, revealing a sloshy liquid. A smoldering furnace was against another wall with a stone slab just outside of it.

When Deporah looked across the room, she nearly screamed out loud before stopping herself.

There were three individuals strapped to vertical harnesses - arms, legs, and heads bound tightly - stripped down to essentially nothing. Each of them had dozens of cuts to their flesh. They were thin and starved.

One man's body hung limp against the harness, his body weight being held up by the binds around his ankles, wrists, and torso. His body was the most severely cut. He didn't appear to be breathing.

There was a woman with a funnel forced into her mouth and affixed there as she frantically looked around to see who was there.

There was another man who was breathing unevenly, with many fresh cuts along his chest. He looked up at Deporah and Norton. He looked like he wanted to cry, but simply couldn't.

"Help us..." He uttered, "Please..."

Norton trembled, "Who did this to you?"

Anger filled the man's eyes, "King Whedon."

Deporah and Norton hurried to the man and tried to undo his binds. But they were locked by key.

"Don't worry, we'll get you out!" Norton spoke through a cracked voice. He began searching the room for a key.

Before Deporah began searching the room with him, she eyed the cuts strewn across all their bodies. They weren't random. The symbol of a diamond with two half circles at the ends and a line drawn through was repeated on their flesh.