Darkness Rising

CHAPTER [ 11 ] TORTURE GAME

The atmosphere as they descended the stairs only grew more oppressive with each step. Sweat began to bead on Lenore's forehead, the air was stagnant and humid and it sat in her lungs like wet, warm cotton balls. It didn't help that the steps were steep and narrow and there was only a dim light visible at the bottom. She stumbled a few times, but thankfully Emilio was close enough to keep her from tumbling down. Lenore began to question if these stairs lead to the basement, because this felt like hell. 

When they reached the bottom, Lenore noted that the only light was the single bulb that hung above them. Beyond that was darkness. The stillness was unnatural. It left her skin crawling with unease.

She stared into the inky blackness. "Where are they?"

Kaiser materialized out of the darkness. He wasn't there then he was. It startled Lenore enough to rip the air from her lungs. Her sharp gasp echoed through the basement. 

"What is she doing here?"

"She asked to be here," Emilio answered.

"She can speak for herself," Lenore said, sending a pointed look in Kaiser's direction. Emilio silenced his chuckle with a swift cough.

There was a tension in the air that Lenore had experienced the other night at Kaiser's apartment. It was easy to forget how dangerous he was—how easily the switch could flip. She saw the debate happening in his hardened gaze, 'let her stay or make her leave'.

He was trying to keep his secrets, Lenore knew that. She understood that they weren't exactly enemies but they weren't friends, either. Their relationship was based on their shared desire to destroy the Gillard family. Beyond that things got a bit gray and complicated. Kaiser had a long term goal, something she had no real desire to be a part of.

"I just want to ask a few things—then I'll leave." 

Kaiser held her gaze for a moment, silence settling over the room again. Her attention shifted to the darkness behind him for a second. It was moving; rippling like the surface of water. He released a heavy breath, agreeing to her request, "A few questions."

She watched him stretch out his hand and grasp the darkness. Then he was ripping it away like pulling back the curtain on a stage.

And there was the Apostle. In the flesh—very battered flesh.

Lenore wondered if he was dead as she took a few cautious steps forward. His chin was pressed to his chest, revealing a small bald spot on the crown of his head. Blood was smeared all over the left side of his face and down his neck. It probably had something to do with his missing ear.

A shudder rushed through her and she resisted the urge to turn away. This was revenge. They deserved this, she told herself—and worse. Lenore took a few more steps, determined to get a closer look.

There were what appeared to be spikes of calcified darkness holding him restrained to the chair. They were lodged into his legs and arms, blood staining and dripping down to the gray, uneven concrete below. It was clear in the time that Lenore was unconscious that some amount of torture had taken place. 

"He's not dead, right?"

Kaiser gave her a look before approaching the Apostle. He gave him a hard slap on the back of his head. "Time to wake-up. You've got a guest."

The Apostle startled awake, sputtering and choking. Blood dribbled from his mouth onto his nice button up shirt. He let out a groan, head lolling back and forth as he attempted to lift it. Unexpectedly, Lenore found satisfaction in his misery—watching the pathetic display made her stomach flutter with anticipation. She wondered how great it would feel to see her uncle in such a state. What kind of expressions would he make?