“You feel a duty to protect her? A murderer over your own people?” his father yelled.
“That sounds like treason to me.” Bennet’s voice radiated through the room.
Theo’s head whipped to the side. Bennet resided in the corner, leaning against the bookcase with his hands gripping his belt. Theo started, “You can’t believe—”
Gerard stepped toward Theo with a raised hand. Theo snapped. The beast crawled from his bones, taking over. Without thought, his hand retrieved his dagger and flourished it against Gerard. Two pairs of strong hands gripped Theo’s arms and yanked him to his knees. He managed to free himself from one of their holds as the monster reached for Gerard’s throat. A third took hold of his hand, bending it back and pinching his shoulder.
“Is this seriously how you want this to go? Throwing your life away for a woman?” his father bellowed.
The soldiers tugged at Theo’s arms, and a shout escaped. Their hands were like iron shackles against his wrists. Their heavy respirations were like the whistling wind of Mosfelkov against the prison walls. Darkness creptinto Theo’s vision. He fought it. He fought them. They pulled harder, like the chains when they’d stretched his arms.
“I won’t go back,” Theo cried, but he didn’t know who could even hear him as the chamber in Rongstad Prison appeared around him. Once again, he was their prisoner, forced to his breaking point. A cry rippled from his chest, and tears burned behind his eyes.
What is he talking about?a distant echo asked.
Theo gasped as the chains pulled at his arms and footsteps thumped down the steps. His world was obscured in the red haze of his blood as it dripped down his forehead from his last session. A single lantern hung in the corner above the table of instruments, taunting and reminding. The steps grew louder, and Theo’s body trembled, knowing what was to come. He couldn’t do it anymore, feel the bite of the blade as it cut into his skin, carving out every bit of his soul.
You need to get him to Amaris,a voice cracked.
A hand squeezed Theo’s face, but it was only his imagination as his interrogator skulked closer, hiding within the shadows. Theo didn’t know his name. He was a phantom, instilling fear in Theo’s heart. The chains pulled tighter, and he let out an agonizing cry, tears spilling down his cheeks.
What’s wrong with him?
He wanted to drop his head, to allow his body to crumple to the ground, to lie in his own blood and piss, but his restraints held him tighter. The dark boots brushed the edge of the poor illumination of the gray-stoned chamber. A knife glinted from the darkness. The phantom stepped forward with a menacing grin. He stretched his long fingers out, setting the other lanterns ablaze.
“No,” Theo shouted, his feet attempting to scramble beneath him, but he couldn’t move. “Just kill me.”
The phantom gripped his face. He was nothing more than an evil smudge against the realm, placed there for one purpose, to torture theliving. The chains pulled tighter as Theo tried to fight and pull himself from the interrogator’s hand. The scent of blood leaked through his nose, along with the damp smell that permeated every pore of Theo’s body.
“What do you want from me?” he breathed, his voice growing hoarse.
The phantom smacked Theo across the face, the bite of his hand stinging against his burning flesh. “To find what breaks you.”
Theo’s body shook violently as the phantom dragged his knife across his chest, spilling his blood onto the floor. He knew how much to spill and how long to wait until Theo’s body was ready again.
He was fucking tortured, you bastards!
The phantom grabbed Theo’s hair and pulled back his head to face him. He dragged his knife along his skin but didn’t break the barrier to kill him.
He needs a sedative!Another distant echo sounded from a dream of a life he’d known.
Theo tried to tear his head from the phantom’s gaze as black drool spilled down his chin. He screamed as the knife dragged across his abdomen.
Take him outside!
The burning smell of his flesh flooded Theo’s nose. The blood dripped down his temple and smeared across his eyes, further coating the room around him in a crimson hue.
“Please,” he begged, his voice a raspy cry. The shackles chafed against his wrists as they spread his arms farther apart. His body shook with the pain. He wanted to die. If he passed out, his torturer would only inject his concoction into Theo’s blood to rally his mind.
He had no concept of time in the dark-infested room. Days, seasons, or even years could’ve passed. The fact Theo had little strength within his body proved it’d been at least longer than only hours.
The phantom stepped behind him and a hot iron rod pressed against his back. Theo screamed, but it was no longer a bloodcurdling cry. It cameout only as a hoarse whimper.
I fight and I live.
“I wonder when your father will beg for your release.” His voice was like a serpent’s hiss. The phantom thrusted his fist into Theo’s abdomen, taking all the breath from his lungs.
Theo needed to keel over, but the chains held his body. His head hung, the blood dripping to the floor and filth at his knees. “You don’t know my father well if you think he’d negotiate for me.” The rod smacked against his back. The pain from the intense contact and heat threatened to pull him into oblivion.
