She Doesn't Cry Anymore

Chapter 14

Second to last chapter
Enjoy!

I sat down on the rusted, metal chair near the operating table, and watched Niara intently. Her beautiful face was calm, but her eyes burned with intensity and anger.

"Where is my Father?" She asked simply.

Tom, now pale and weak, just managed to mumble, "There is no point looking for him. He will come for you instead."

She thought for a minute, standing with one hand on her hip and the other resting on the table of 'torture tools'. "When is he coming?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," he smirked. I was surprised at how confident he was, being a dead man.

Niara sighed, her expression tightening as she tried to hide her frustration. Her hand hovered over the blades and spikes, her fingers twitching with anticipation. She nodded, as if to confirm her choice, and slowly, purposefully, plucked the blunt, large knife from the selection. I raised an eyebrow at her choice, she just smirked at my questioning stare.

She brought the knife down gradually, placing the metal on his skin just below his wrist. He winced, most likely at the cold temperature of the metal. She then drew it back in long lines. She repeated it over and over on the same place, his skin reddening quickly, blood beginning to surface from the shallow cuts. After every slice, the cut would deepen noticeably. I could tell Niara was enjoying this, her knuckles white from where she was clutching the knife handle.

Tom choked out a throaty shriek as the cut went so deep I was sure she was hitting bone. Niara withdrew, her calm expression still plastered on her face.

"I am going to ask one more time. Only one," Niara began slowly, "When is--"

Tom spat to the side glaring.

"I'll take that as 'no reply'"," she smiled adorably, bringing the knife forcibly down. The crunch echoed throughout the room.

I stood up, walking over to the now unconscious Tom. Niara was still slicing at his wrist, tears falling off her cheeks. I walked over to her, enveloping her small, seeming fragile body in my arms. I heared the clang of metal hitting concrete, her body sliding round so she was facing me. Her arms wrapped around my neck, her forehead resting on my chest. I rubbed her back.

"He's not gonna talk if he's unconscious," I joked.

"Sorry," she murmured, wiping her eyes. "I'm just... emotional."

"It's fine. Let's go now."

She shook her head, pouting like a little kid. It was so cute. "No. I wanna stay here," how could I resist?

"Fine. There's a bed just through here," I took her hand leading her to a tiny room just off to the left. There was a small double bed, with crisp grey covers neatly laid out. It had been a while since I had last used this room.

"Thank you," she smiled. "You gonna stay?"

I sighed. I wanted to get this information out of Tom as soon as possible but there was no way I was going to do that when Niara was sleeping in the next room.

I spun her into the bed, tucking her into the covers and then climbing in with her, cradling her body in mine. She fell asleep soon after.

***

NIARA POV

"Tell us now."

He groaned, his skin pale and cold. "Ha, you're so unaware."

His hand was not quite cut off, the bone visible through the bloody, shredded flesh. I winced, I had done that out of anger, it must have hurt.

A sudden rumble shuddered through the ground. "Gale!"

He was by my side in seconds. His face was serious, his eyes worried. "Someone's here."

"Who?" Fear pricked my skin. I clung to Gale's arm in an attempt to feel safer. He didn't answer."Who Gale?" I half whispered half shouted.

He was glaring at the door. Clangs and bangs echoed behind it. I heated muffled moans, and scraping, like claws against stone.

"Your... Your father."

As soon as he uttered the words I froze. A cold wave spread over me. The door burst open, revealing a large figure. His face was older, his hair a pale white, but his figure was muscular. Really muscular, like Toms demon form. His eyes shine a pale white silver, the pupil dilated.

"Daughter, come to me," he opened his arms.

The fear grew. It was deep and dark, like this man. It was formidable and dangerous, like this man. In fact, it soon occurred to me that, this man, was the living embodiment of fear itself.

I racked my brain for something to do. Anything. This man was either going to kill me, or harness my abilities for the greater evil.

"Father," I whispered, walking slowly towards him, trying to keep my body from cringing. I silenced Gales protest with a wave of my hand, leaning into my fathers arms. I reached behind my back silently. He grunted, his face scrunching up as he pushed me away. He pulled out the knife I had plunged into his back.

"That's not the best way to greet your father," he hissed. "Some one ought to teach you some manners," he brought his hand back about to bring it down. I could feel Gale moving to stop him, but that wasn't needed. I grabbed his wrist, spinning around and forcing it down, the 'crack' was sickening.

"Ouch."

The knife spun through the air, I jumped to the side, the blade landing in the wall where my head just was with a thud.

Gale was there, bringing his fist up to hit my fathers jaw. He grunted, grabbing Gale's neck and holding him up. I ran, sliding onto my back and forcing my legs into my fathers. He tumbled to the ground as I rolled away, forcing my knee down onto his neck. He pushed me off immediately, Gale caught me and placed me on the ground before he turned. I joined him, my claws and fangs extending. My father just grew, his body pulsing and surging.

"Drow demon," Gale whispered.

He ran at my father, as I rolled to the side and ran at him behind. I connected with my father just before Gale. I plunged my claws into his neck, digging deep. My father yelled, attempting to shake me off, but I was secure on his back. Gale was fighting with his arms, but suddenly he was flung into the wall, crashing to the ground limply.

"Gale!" I screamed, loosening my grip. My father suddenly twisted around, forcing my back into the wall as he held me by my neck. I was struggling to breathe, kicking in his grasp.

"Now I can take what is mine," he panted. His palm thumped my chest and I felt a tug inside me. It hurt, an aching pain, like something was being brought out of me. He brought his hand back slowly, and the pain increased. I kicked and screamed, but it didn't work, nothing was working.

Then my father froze, and gurgled as a trickle if blood fell from his mouth. He spun around plunging the knife from the wall into the attacker. He then fell to the ground, spluttering until his body fell limp.

I heard a moan, and ran to the slumped figure who saved me. It took me a while to see through my tears eyes but as soon as I saw the dying boy my stomach dropped.

It was Cam.