“You deceived us!” they cried. “You betrayed us!”
I crumpled beneath the onslaught, my body wrecked, my mind unraveling. It felt as if I were meant for this suffering, as if my destiny had always been to endure such merciless agony.
The memories crashed over me, relentless waves dragging me toward madness. I wanted the pain to stop—desperately—but my demons would not release me.
The clang of metal rattled through my haze. Costa stood at the iron-barred door of my cell, his eyes gleaming with cruel amusement.
“I see the belladonna is working its magic on you,” he mused, tilting his head. “It’s a fascinating substance—morphing to match the insanity buried in each mind.” His lips curled. “And that was just a small dose. Wait until I give you the full amount.”
His laughter died abruptly. His expression darkened. “I hate your kind. Time travelers are a plague, and I want every last one of youeradicated.”
A burst of smoke and fire erupted beside him. Balthazar stepped from the flames, his gnarled fingers locking around the iron bars like a vice. He leaned in, voice a venomous whisper.
“Let me in with him,” he snarled. “I’ll make sure his suffering lasts for eternity—with my special brand of poison torture.”
Costa’s gaze darted sideways, his jaw tightening. “I’ve got it under control.”
Balthazar’s lips twisted into something between a sneer and a grin. “Come on, Raul. We need him to talk. We need to know who Demarrias is working for.”
“And I said I’ve got it under control,” Costa hissed. His face darkened to an unnatural red as his hands curled into fists. He stepped toward Balthazar, his stance coiled, dangerous. Balthazar mirrored him, the air between them crackling with tension.
Then—footsteps.
The heavy thud of boots echoed down the corridor. More were coming.
Backup.
“We’re ready, sir,” a gruff voice announced.
“Excellent,” Costa replied, satisfied.
Keys jangled. The lock clinked. The iron door groaned open.
Costa stepped inside, followed by Balthazar and two masked figures. The newcomers were massive, their muscles flexing beneath heavy chainmail vests. They gripped their torches like weapons, their faces obscured behind steel masks, towering like vengeful titans in the dim light.
The flames cast long, twisting shadows across the cell walls—phantoms that mimicked the ones haunting my mind.
Balthazar wrinkled his nose. “Ugh. This place stinks.”
Costa chuckled. “That’s part of the charm. It makes them rot in their filth. That—and the poison—works wonders.”
Balthazar shivered with unrestrained excitement, his fingers twitching as he leaned forward. His breath came in quick bursts. His eyes gleamed with wicked anticipation, his sinister smile stretching wide.
“Let me have him,” he whispered, revealing his bloodlust. “I want to hear him scream.”
“Not happening,” Costa snapped.
Balthazar’s expression darkened. In one swift motion, he drew a dagger from his sheath, pointing it at Costa. “I thought we were allies. But you’ve deceived me—just like he did.”
The blade turned toward me.
Costa barely flinched. With a wave, he batted the knife aside. “Try that again, and I’ll make sure you’re the one rotting in this cell next.”
Balthazar let out a bitter laugh. “You think you can imprison me? You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”
I barely heard them. My body was hunched, trying to escape the putrid stench invading my senses. The air was thick with human waste and vomit, the suffocating stench of suffering and decay pressing in from all sides. The walls seemed to close in, heavy with the ghosts of those who had perished here.
I was drowning in it.
