A Kingdom of Bloodshed

*¬*Chapter Five*¬*

"High Lord?" I whisper, he doesn't turn to me but says, "Yes, miss Alinac?" Sleep begins to take over me, exhaustion combing its fingers through my hair and I manage to murmur, "You don't have to sleep on the couch if you don't want to."

Drowsiness creeps in more, pulling me under so deeply that by the time he responds I'm too far gone to hear it.

⤗

Someone is screaming. I don't know where the sound if coming from, but I keep following the noise, trying to pinpoint where it's coming from. Walking down the dark corridor, I reach ahead of me, using one hand to guide myself along the wall. There's not a single soul to be seen. Where is everyone?

The screaming picks up again, closer this time. Where is is coming from?

I see a door appear on my right, a small sliver of light peaking from underneath it. Holding my breath, I reach for the iron knob and turn the handle. The door opens silently. The scene before me takes the air from my lungs.

A woman is hanging in the center of the room, her wrists tied above her head. Blood drips from the chaf marks and trickles down her skin. Her long, auburn coloured hair lay in matted curls down her side, her skin is golden but looks pale from lack of sunlight and bloodloss.

Her face is angled downwards, so I can't make out her features, but I see the bruises covering her skin. Like a sponge that's begun to mould. The woman is sobbing, her body shaking from the strength of her tears as she tries to wiggle out of the chains holding her captive. Entering the room, I hold close to the wall trying not to make any sound. Her whimpers of pain can be heard from where I'm hiding in the shadows. This room is damp, cold; like we're in a cellar or a basement. The cool, stone walls make it feel more like a cellar. It's dark, nothing more than a candescent bulb hanging in the center of the room to give us light.

There's no windows so the air is stale. Repugnant. Puddles of water lay in crevices on the stone floor, mixing with the pool of blood. There's a stone table, and a stool, as well as a bucket. I don't even want to imagine what that's for. On the other end of the cell, there's a metal door, wrought iron and old. It creaks open just as I look towards it.

A man enters the room. Tall, broad build, black hair and eyes that look like sparks. He deep voice splinters the silence, "Well, well, well... are you finally willing to talk to me? To give me the answers I'm looking for?"

The woman remains silent. Her body tensing up as if expecting to be hit. The male chuckles and pulls up a stool, sitting on it before speaking. "Myra, darling, you're going to have to speak sometime. You can't keep secrets forever; we had a deal."

Myra finally lifts her head and I just about fall over. She looks exactly like me, just older. "I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to. You know that. You are not allowed to know the secrets of the Blood Warrirors."

Blood Warrirors? The name sounds familiar but where have I heard it before? The male chuckles before standing up and circling Myra, like a bird of prey.

"Tsk, tsk. What a shame Myra, I really thought we could have gotten farther, but it seems you'll need a little coaxing." He turns to a stone table behind him, long, shiny torture instruments lay upon it. He reaches for a thin dagger, the blade gleaming in the candescent light. Myra whimpers but doesn't say anything else.

"Last chance Alinac. You could save a lot of people."

"You mean doom them. You just want to use our secrets for your own personal gain. You're a Morningsong, you can't be trusted." My heart comes to a halt in my chest.