For the first time I am going to do a Content Warning. This chapter has acts of Torture and Sexual Assult. If you are sensitive to these subject skip to the triple asterisks (***). This book is not smut and does not condone or glorify these actions but does contain adult themes.
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Isin jolted awake, his own scream tearing him from his nightmare, his cheeks wet with fresh tears. Even three years after his mother's death, the pain remained as raw as if it had happened yesterday. He rubbed his eyes, trying to steady himself, but the tears kept coming. In the darkness of his pod, he felt some small comfort; the routine of being confined until morning was something he could count on. Then he heard the latches click and the pod hiss. Slowly it opened, Isin believing it was time for him to wake up wiped his face. He couldn't let his team see him like that; he had to remain the strong stoic leader.
Blinding white light flooded his vision as his pod door opened. He blinked away the sting in his eyes. Instead of the light chatter of the others waking he was the only one up. All around him was the unnerving silence of the all white and sterile room of Facility 98. His pod, one of the thousands for the Slave Race. They were all forced to retire here every night as it was too dangerous to work throughout the night.
He shivered, recognizing what it meant when he was awakened like this. His blood ran cold when he saw Nuriel, the Angel standing above his pod. She would meet him at night, for what she called experiments ever since she found out he was the son of Bazaath. Her predatory grin stretched wide across her face as her form shrank down from the towering ten feet to the far more human six.
Her skin transitioned from white marble to blemishless peach flesh. Her wings retracted into her body as the metal orbs levitated around him and scanned his body. She had a smile on her face as she examined his nude form. Isin knew there was no point in modesty; she had already seen every inch of him and left no part of his body unclaimed. He looked away as her clothing slipped to the ground, leaving her bare as well.
"Number 293," Nuriel purred, her voice melodic, almost soothing if not for the revulsion it sparked within him. "Look at me," she commanded, and his gaze reluctantly met hers. "Must I remind you that you are mine 293, mine to do with as I please, mine to break, mine to fix, mine alone."
"Of course, master," Isin said, his voice broken.
"Oh, how obedient. I do love that about you, 293," Nuriel cooed, her tone mocking, almost playful. She climbed onto him, her weight pressing down as she straddled him, a twisted look of pleasure in her eyes. "You know, the Slave Race should be grateful to serve beings as perfect as us. Isn't it an honor, really? You all get to be so close to your makers, your Gods. You would be nothing without us. Tell me, does it thrill you, being so useful? Or does your pathetic little mind fail to comprehend what I am telling you?"
Isin clenched his jaw, swallowing the words he longed to hurl back at her. He knew that any display of defiance would only amuse her, feed into her sick games. She leaned closer, her breath hot against his ear.
"Maybe one day, I'll let you see just how small you really are, how insignificant. Yes, wouldn't that be great, you can be mine, until the day you die." Her laugh was disarmingly gentle for the cruelty she proposed. "Maybe I'll even teach you a thing or two, let you play with the toys of the gods. It must feel so exotic for you to touch me. For me to let you feel what's far beyond your kind's reach. You should thank me for it."
Isin swallowed his hatred and nodded in submission. "Yes, master. I am grateful."
"Oh, you flatterer," she sneered, cupping his face in her hands then moving them down to his chest. "You think I don't see that fire in your eyes? You're only human, remember? You serve one function, and that is to obey. Broken toys need to be disassembled and fixed. Maybe I should take you apart again and see what makes you tick."
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The Chronicles of a Scalebound Sage: Wandmaker Vol.2
FantasyAn ancient power stirs, sensing the impending return of the True Immortals. As the signs of untold destruction echo across the world, the urgent need for a new Wandmaker arises. They will be a beacon of hope in the turbulent time ahead. The veil bet...
