Blood & Honour [Book Four of The City of Eternity Series] [✔]

4.24: Ultimatum

My whole body feels as though it is redefining the meaning of pain. Every muscle screams in protest, my thighs burning with a raw, mind-numbing throb that pulses beneath my thin clothing. My skin is chafed and bleeding, torn from whatever merciless method brought me here. I imagine the journey had been unforgiving, cruel beyond measure, leaving me broken and bruised.

When I try to open my eyes, I am startled into a panic as I am met with darkness so absolute that for a moment, I am convinced I'm blind. Fear claws at my throat, and I reach out instinctively, my hands searching for something—anything—to ground me. But there is nothing. Only the cold, hard stone beneath me and the biting chill of the air creeping into my bones.

The dizziness is a constant, disorienting fog, swirling through my mind. I raise a trembling hand to my head, feeling the sticky warmth of blood where Damiro had landed a perfect blow. My fingers come away wet, the dark red shade of fresh blood still flowing, the wound on my scalp throbbing angrily.

A distorted groan escapes my lips as I struggle to breathe, each gasp sending a sharp, stabbing pain through my chest. The air catches in my lungs, refusing to move, and every flinch of my body makes the agony worse. If I had any real experience with serious injuries, I'd suspect the jagged pain radiating from my ribs could be the telltale sign of a break or two. The mere thought makes me wince, and I feel the pain surge, a tidal wave threatening to drown me in its depths.

I can't see past my hand, the darkness is almost pitch black, thick and oppressive and surrounding me. Whoever had designed this place had done so with mental torture in mind. A dim light flickers above my head, more a suggestion of light than illumination. It casts a faint, almost absent glow that barely reaches my stomach. It's just enough for me to recognise my flesh - catching on the rusted chain around my ankle to allow me to see the metal biting into my skin.

The air smells metallic and rotted; a suffocating smell that fills my lungs with each of my forcibly shallowed breaths. I try to steady myself, to calm the beating of my heart, but as my eyes dart around to ground the environment, the darkness presses in on me, smothering all of my attempts. The stark silence wraps around me like a weighted blanket, covering my face and pulling air from deep inside my throat. I force myself to breathe through it, to focus on the distant rhythm of my heart, to count each beat, though it does little to erode the growing panic.

Every so often, I hear something in the darkness; the faintest rustling, and whispering so quiet and travelling so slowly towards me, that it sends a shiver down my spine. Every time I think I can pinpoint exactly where they originate from, they fade elsewhere into a darker pit of silence; so maddeningly elusive I can barely strain myself to listen for more than a minute. I can barely tell if they are real; If the echoes emanate from an unseen figure lurking in the shadows, or if my fear has concocted a villain for me to focus on, a product of my mind running on overdrive and refusing to stop.

I can't hold it back any longer, can't keep the fear and the pain at bay. A sob breaks free, forcing its way from my mouth, the sound echoing in the darkness, and then another, and another, until I'm crying uncontrollably; my body shaking with the force. The tears burn as they run down my cheeks, hot and bitter, a release of all the anger and fear that I've been holding inside. I picture Alaric shrugging off my disappearance, on to the next willing participant in their spying games, and then Aubrey, sitting opposite his desk, sipping a drink and pretending she has no idea the scale of events playing out. The leaders I thought I could trust - it was just a facade, a mask that hid unrecognisable ugliness beneath.