Where Light Dies

46. The Trump Card

"Rey." Claire felt a lump tug at her throat. "Are you alright?"

"I can walk," she replied, her voice blank and monotonous.

-- Heatherhills, Base Camp -- 2017 --

Claire was back in her usual attire, clad in the Harrington's uniform of maroon jumpers and pale black jeans. In the time that Blake had been with Reyna, she had managed to find the key to the cells out of her captor's body, and free the rest of her female comrades. Muffled whispers of relief saturated the humid tunnel air. Beth was brimming with joy, eager to be out of that cramped room after so long.

"You alright Beth?" Blake asked, his palm on her forehead as he bent down on one knee, matching her height.

"I'm okay! Really! This lady here told me a lot of stories about - "

"Oh God! Get me out of here!" a sound rippled through the dimly lit room. Beth flinched, taking a step away from her brother.

"We'll talk later, okay? Stick close to that lady for me." The boy got back up as his sister scuttled back into the crowd.

He turned around to face the blonde who was now clad in his clothes, only to be met by a silhouette that had been drenched in fear.

Rey...

Reyna felt her vision fade. The sensation of fingers crawling down every nook and crevice of her skin came running back to her mind, a sudden wave of suffocation hitting her lungs. She turned around, her vengeful gaze meeting with Blake's.

He couldn't look at her.

The boy's eyes wandered to the darkest part of the torture chamber instead. The soaked brick walls seemed to disappear into the shadows, a narrow glint of the metal door he'd tossed in there the only thing visible in the pool of black. He didn't need to see to know what lay ahead of him. He could envision the man's fearful eyes, his burgundy hair plastered on to his face that was now dripping with sweat. He could hear the shallow trickle of his blood as it dripped from his shattered knees, bones jutting out from the wound. Blake knew that his conscience wouldn't last for long.

It bothered him. A lot.

A death like that would be too, peaceful.

"Who's in the corner Blake?" Reyna asked. Her voice was desperate.

"I think you know him much better than I do." Blake felt his fists curl as he watched Reyna shrivel in terror. What had been done to her, it was unforgivable. As much as he wanted to rip him apart, Blake knew that it wasn't his call to take action. The bane pulled out his knife, the handle pointed towards the girl beside him.

"Do what you want."

It was sudden, the transformation of her presence from fearful to threatening. Reyna snatched the blade from his hand, pulling the ripped jacket sleeves up to her elbows as she disappeared into the shadows.

"What the hell do you think you're doing! " Claire snapped, running to kick some sense into his head. However, one single look from Blake was enough to stop her dead in her tracks. His eyes were black, brimming with a sort of rage that she'd never seen before.

"Get out," Blake boomed in a triple toned voice, his livid gaze spreading waves of terror among the campers gathered there. "Now!"

One by one, they filed out of the place. Reyna had begun her onslaught. The blood-curdling screams that sheared through the tunnel's tranquillity was no longer terrifying to them.

Truth be told, it felt like music to their ears.

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