Unedited.
Chapter Two – Chamber.
They dragged me kicking and yelling out of that arena. Rage spewed from my bloody mouth, fists curled as I searched for a way to reach that lecherous snake. When the guards came; Arc B demons with small mean eyes and large, thick arms, I even fought back against them, my voice rising in hysteria.
"You fecker!"
I nailed a demon in his horned jaw with my heel, claws piercing the skin of my arms as I strained against their hold. The demon-girl went out with less of a fight, her head bowed as she marched past. She wasn't unconscious and I would have felt a little impressed by her strength if I wasn't so angry. The side of my chest was flaming, but I wanted to get at Acheron who only looked down at me with a smirking smile, enraging me further.
The back of my heels dragged over sand, the along uneven stone. Low walls pressed down on us, the ominous flicker of fire-light as I was dragged past. The stone widened underfoot and the walls opened up as we passed through a great cavern, across a bridge that stood over the Commons.
The Commons, a large pit nearly fifty feet below us, was where the prisoners could socialise every couple of weeks. I had been in it eight times, which didn't bode well for how long I had been locked up here but it was a dangerous place. Prisoners, so starved, would end up killing someone smaller and weaker and others preyed on anyone they thought would give them an easy release. Distantly, I could hear their shouting and hollering, broken only be a sudden scream and then a raucous burst of laughter.
'This place is hell.' I thought desperately. 'It has to be.'
The next cavern we entered was a place I knew too well. It was surprisingly light in this cavern, because of the light coming through the natural window in the ceiling which was really a series of cracks that allowed the light to filter all the way down. Whereas the other place was called the Commons, this was just called the Chamber.
Once we got into it, I was propped back onto my feet, facing the enormous cavern. The putrid smell of sick, faeces and blood was overwhelming here and my empty stomach clenched hard with the urge to retch. One of the demons was loading a man's body onto a cart, his flesh stripped clean but he was still alive, barely clinging to life. He would just be left in that cart to die.
Maybe some of us would eat this evening.
The young demon girl had gone ashen, eyes wide with horror as she eyed the room. I only dug my heels into the ground again, fear filling me at the sight of their stations. Not again. Not again.
The demons in this room loved their jobs – they got high off a man's pleading, or the screams for mercy. I had given up so many times in this room, but just because I begged for them to kill me, didn't mean they did. I gave up and was propped up to let them continue their work. Stubbornness and strength didn't mean shit here – a person was broken again and again; they were mindless animals and it still didn't end.
The chamber was relatively full today, the victims all losers. One girl glanced at me, a flicker of recognition passing over her expression before she pressed herself further back into the spikes protruding from the pallet at her back. Blood splattered down along her naked legs but her eyes never left me.
I did not smell that bad.
I mean, I hadn't showered since they hosed me down when I first came here, but still. I believed that my body was naturally cleaning itself beneath all the dried blood and grime.
The demon girl began to fight when they led her to the posts – which was Acheron's favourite punishment for Riders. There were seven posts standing a good distance from each other and usually seven wasn't enough to control the demand, today they were empty.
Fear and apprehension clutched at my heart, that involuntary cold shiver racking down my spine when I saw where the stone turned dark, years of dried blood piling up on top of the other.
"No." The demon-girl cried, jerking back violently. Expressionless, save for the one beginning to smirk at the smell of her fear – because demons could smell fear; Acheron told me so.
I eyed the shackles on the post as they planted me in front of it, my wrists already smarting at the thought of it. My lips moved in silent prayer as I tried to mute out the screaming prisoners behind me.
'Please give me the strength to endure this. I am Nethore's rider. I will not be weak. I will not make him be ashamed of me. Stay in control. "
A clawed hand gripped my shoulder, wrenching my arms out so they could shackle my wrists tight to the post. Tears leaked from the corners of my eyes, pain pulsing up my sides painfully. Definitely bruised.
They shackled my wrists tight. Already the skin was warped, paler than my normal blue veined and they made sure it hurt when they tightened it and that the metal was pinching into my skin. My forehead pressed against the post, my body shuddering involuntarily in anticipation.
'Stay in control.'
I heard leather sliding a gloved hand, the 'glint' sound of them checking the whips sharpened points. It was made from the bones of dragons – Acheron thought it only right that Riders should get punished with something from the creatures they loved so much.
'Stay in control'
The demon-girl let out a scream at the first fall of the whip, jerking violently as it tore through her skin. I glanced at her for only a moment, before I shut my eyes and tried to imagine that I was somewhere different.
I was with Nethore in Blood's Nest, spending an autumn's eve by his side
I was with my friends, laughing as Dem uttered something ridiculous.
I was painting. Only an easel in front of me and a mug of tea at my sides. All the colours there are to paint with. Total control. Total peace.
And then, the whip fell. I imagined it always as Turana's lightening striking my back and the thunderous crackle that came from the maw, in my mind, muffled my screaming. It cast my blood to the ground and opened blood strips onto my back.
Again and again it fell, like a storm brewing in the skies, rage cutting across my withered back until my legs shook too violently for me to stand, so my knees sank to the ground that was stained with my own blood.
When I couldn't speak, my throat raw and cheeks dried of tears long ago, they stopped. My neck hung, limbs trembling from sheer shock as they unshackled me, letting me slide uselessly onto the ground. I rolled on my stomach, arms shaking as I propped myself up onto my elbows. My vision was a streak of red and black, but I saw the boots approaching.
"It does me great joy to see you in such a state." Acheron knelt before me. "But then, to think that the great Lynch line has been reduced to such a pitiful little girl is sobering."
'Think of Nethore. Think of Ne. What would he say to this prick?"
I tried to work my jaw and give a cutting retort but all the slipped from my mouth was a long, choking groan while my gaze cut up to him. His thin mouth was pulled into a sharp, self-indulgent smile, the gleam of amber keeping my attention.
"You lost control in the pit earlier." Acheron raised a brow. "I have been waiting long enough, but I believe that you need some incentive."
I was pulled up and very graciously slapped down onto a chair. A guard had to hold my shoulder to keep me from sliding from the chair. The demon-girl had passed out and they were dragging her back to her cell.
As she left, another guard entered with another prisoner held by a neck pole. This prisoner walked with his chin raised, as if the very stone under his bare feet was his castle. His skin was washed out from the lack of light here, but he was naturally darker than me already. He eyed the chamber with a tight pull to his sharp jaw before the guard pulled him our way.
Eyes of harsh, pale green that almost looked yellow at the pass of lamp-light glowered at Acheron, his lips pulling back as a hiss rolled out through bared teeth. I jerked, recognition flickering through me. He was taller than expected, but as regal as I pictured. His face was fine-boned and haughty even without trying; it belonged to his voice and I could see him in my mind's eye, ghosting the halls of a manor.
"Hale?"
He hissed again, eyes falling to me before he recoiled in shock. "Neely?"
I smiled, but it was dead and withered. "It's nice to put a face to the name."
Acheron clapped his hands, stepping close to us. "I believe that you two have already met; good neighbours and all that. I keep telling them to fix that stone but...alas."
Alas...
'Who even says that anyway?'
Hale looked down at me again, his nostrils flaring before he went rigid and held himself very tight. I hadn't forgotten about the bloody strips but into my back, tricking down along filthy skin but I didn't think of how it would bother him. Were they going to leave the both of us together and see how long Hale's restraint lasted? I knew he wouldn't want to hurt me, but a hungry Vampire could only last so long with a bleeding, relatively defenceless person locked in the same area as them.
"You are going to hurt me, to get to her?" Hale scoffed, sending Acheron a withering look.
I flashed him a wry grimace; how did he make tattered clothing and filth look so elegant? I knew a trainer once called Belle who could even take tips from him.
Acheron, not happy with being sassed by someone dressed in rags, barked something in demonic at a guard who promptly dragged over a large basin of water. They sat Hale down opposite me and the Vampire kept his eyes on me, his smile tight. He was long, all arms and legs but while some people would be gangly, he was just regal.
"You are younger than you look, Neely." He observed.
"I feel older than I am." I croaked back, while Acheron observed with us both, bristling slightly.
"Ah yes," Hale sighed. "Torture and isolation will do that to a person."
The corner of my mouth hitched into a smile, a rare flash of mirth coursing through me. Hale held my gaze, a silent but strong connection of comradery passing between us even as the they put water into a jug. His gaze was lost when they threw a cloth over his face.
"You know what you have to do." Acheron ghosted by my shoulder, his voice soft.
I tried to keep the panic from my face, but as they held the jug over his face, my voice slipped. "I don't know what you want from me"
"Perhaps not. But you will know when you finally give it to me."
Then, they tipped the jug. Water poured down onto the cloth of Hale's face as they held his head back. His long body jerked, a rough gurgle sounding before he tried to calm his panicking body; this was Hale's most feared punishment. People believed that Vampire's didn't need oxygen; they did, but just not as much as humans so when their body felt the lack of air, it's panic systems were far more severe than ours.
He kept still for nearly twenty minutes before he began to panic, his body jerking involuntarily. The demons restrained him, two needing to hold him down even though he was weakened by dehydration.
"Stop this!" I hissed. "How can I give you something when I don't even know what you want?"
Amber eyes flicked down to me. "How can you indeed."
Hale's leg jerked, before an arm broke free and grabbed at a demon violently before it was shoved back into place. Helpless anger, at Hale's torture and my lack of control of everything around me rose, each panicked noise from Hale's throat, stoking the embers. What did he want from me?
I could only look on, feeling as I was choking on anger, limbs shaking from pain and blood loss. Acheron raised a hand for them to stop when Hale began to go slack, long arms hanging up his sides. When they removed the cloth, he was still for a long and terrible minute before he shuddered and took in a long breath. His eyes peeled open, finding mine again. There wasn't the same confidence to his smile, but he managed to find the energy to pull his mouth into one. There wasn't comfort to be given, because both of us knew it would only be false, but I took comfort in this small, fleeting moment.
His eyes flickered up just as Acheron settled a hand on my shoulder. Grip tight, claws digging into my shoulder, but voice cool, he spoke.
"Why do you keep resisting?" With each tightened clasp of his claws, darkness broiled inside of me. My mark pulsed, hot and scorching along my arm before shuddering through my body. I felt disgusted at his touch; dirty and if I could shimmy out of my skin right here and now, I would. Those claws skimmed down my back and my frustration shot from me, replaced by searing pain as he clenched his hands tight against the wet, bloody wounds on my back, fingers sinking into already abused flesh.
Hale let out a snarl, as I tried to arch away from Acheron's hold. I could feel the wet slip of his claws along the ribbons of my back and bile rose up in my throat.
'No...I need that food.'
I retched anyway, the hot acidic burn of the stomach bile, barely hindered by the meagre portions of my last meal. Acheron smoothly stepped out of the way as it spewed out, claws grabbing my sheared hair to jerk my face up to him.
"You will stop resisting. We have all the time in the world." He hissed, brewing anger in shocking eyes of amber.
I was too weak to argue – but how could I stop resisting when I had no idea what he wanted from me?
In disgust, Acheron ordered them to drag me back to my cells. Hale was trudged along behind me and I could literally feel his restraint with being faced with an open, seeping back of blood and torn flesh. I tried to keep conscious as we passed over the bridge and then past the prisoners packed into cages. That little demon boy reached a hand towards the blood dripping from my back, his face morphing into stark hunger before I was gone around the corner towards the isolated cells.
They threw me into the cell, like an unwanted doll. Crumpled on the ground, my mind sunk into despair. The cold, uneven stone pressed into my stomach and caught my shuddering breaths. Darkness fell again when the doors shut, a deep silence permeating save for my choking, pained sobs. The stone on the wall loosened, dropping to the ground with a 'clunk'.
"Neely?" Hale's voice was insistent.
"Hmm?"
"I swear to the Moon, Neely. If you pass out and die, I will bring you back as a cursed one and kill you myself."
"That...kind...of defeats the...point."
"You may get the impression that I'm reasonable, but I am not. Talk to me."
"About what?" I turned my head so I was facing in his direction, searching for the gap in the stone.
"About anything? I saw your Rider's Mark. Obsidian. I did not know that you were the Vidalin Rider. Tell me about your dragon."
Nethore. My stomach twisted tight. "No...I don't want to...talk about...him."
Hale sighed softly. "As you wish. Tell me about your friends then. I heard you mention a Shaw once. When I was...outside, I knew a Shaw."
I tried to think of Dem. Of that smile that came so easy, and the concern that came easier still. He could cut and comfort all in the same sentence. They came to me in faded images, their faces taken from me by the darkness of Acheron's cells.
So, I told Hale that, the pain fading slightly as I thought about him. Then I told him of Peter and their unfolding romance, and wondered where the two of them were now? Were they still together or separated by something I didn't know about.
Hale listened, hanging onto my slow words like we were just sitting together in the kitchen, drinking tea and gossiping. I spoke of Gabriel and of Kalan and Jenna. When I told him about Jamie, he only said,
'She sounds like a fierce woman."
I did not speak of Nethore. He was mine and I would not speak of him in this evil place. We were two halves of the same soul and while mine withered and darkened, he would remain untouched by this encroaching darkness. Even as I lay in darkness, I knew that until my body gave up or they slit my throat, I would keep myself going until I saw him again.
Because I would see him again. Any thoughts that I wouldn't were squashed – that kind of hopelessness would kill me faster than any wound.
The skull just snorted. 'Good luck with that.'
∑
I wasn't supposed to update, but after just a really bad day full of terrible luck - I decided to just do it because it makes me happy.
Of course, my internet crashed for a while so I had to wait even for that. So I have a question. I would like your opinion between the two covers for RIDER'S FATE.
The current one I have already posted with the first book, or this one which plays more in theme with the RIDER'S TRUTH cover.
Anyway, tell me what you thought about the chapter. I hope you enjoyed it.
Until next time, Saoigreen.