Far From Home

True Form

   It wasn't until a week later, that Death finally began asking questions.

     Every day had been hours upon hours of torture, ending with Seth either losing consciousness, or Death stopping to keep him alive. It seemed that whatever Death was, his saliva had healing properties since after licking Seth's wounds, they would close up withing in the hour and all the lost blood would be replaced in only a few. Which meant, that an hour later, Death would return and start everything all over again. Death fed and gave him water each day, but they tasted so terrible that he vomited them out each time.

     Not once in the time, he had been there, had Seth been able to sleep. The torture kept him awake and one hour was too little to try and get to sleep when only closing his eyes would mean seeing Death's red eyes glaring at him. The sight would make everyone wide awake.

     The pain never truly left him. Even when the wounds were healed, there was a dull ache in them. Most likely, the saliva healed them, but not all the way, and it would take longer for the wounds to be completely gone.

     These were the thoughts in Seth's head for the first week. After that, it was one simple sentence.

     Don't talk.

     That was it. The one sentence, that kept repeating itself.

     Don't talk.

     So he didn't. Anytime Death shot a question about the Knights of Dawn at him, he sealed his mouth shut and stared defiantly at his torturer. He kept silent, or at least he didn't form words. He didn't count agonized screaming as talking.

     It was week three now, and Seth was still holding onto hope that someone would come and rescue him. His family wouldn't leave him there, would they? No, they would come and get him. Any day now. They would save him. But he was losing hope.

     The scraping of claws on stone echoed through the cavern and Seth's head snapped to the left. Death was approaching, carrying a leather bundle under one arm. As he got closer, Seth felt his heart began beating faster and cold sweat gathering on his brow. Pure terror filled his mind and he had to fight not to think about his warm and safe bed in Fablehaven.

     Don't talk, he told himself. Don't think.

Death stopped in front of him and they stared at each other for a moment. "What fun things should we do today?"

     'Today', huh? Seth thought, trying to distract himself. Another day, then. Death scoffed.

     "Seth, you're going to give me the information that I want at some point. Whether it is to save you from torture, or the result of too much of it, I don't care. But you'll drive yourself to insanity if you try to keep yourself from thinking about all your knowledge about the Knights of the Dawn!" Death said 'all your knowledge about the Knights of the Dawn' very loudly and immediately Seth's mind flew to Warren, the first Knight he had known personally. He then cursed himself and thought about cheese crackers.

     Death huffed and set down the leather bundle. He then rolled it open, revealing a dozen knives and wires, all of them covered in the blood of those they had been used on before. Seth turned away from them, though he kept Death in view.

     Cheese crackers, cheese crackers, cheese crackers... he thought frantically.

Death brandished a ragged-edged knife.

     Lots of cheese crackers!

Death moved closer and set the knife on this lower arm.

     With blue cheese!

     The ragged edge of the knife dug into his arm and he grunted, pulling at his shackles. The blade sunk deeper into his arm as Death pulled it back and forth and soon enough Seth was gasping in pain.

     "Where is the Knights' headquarters?" Death shouted. Seth focused on the stalagmites in the water. The knife sunk deeper, cutting into the bone. A scream tore from his throat as the knife ripped his muscle and tore his tendons apart. "Tell me!"

     Seth rained a few choice words at him which only resulted in a hard twist of the knife and the snapping of a bone. Seth arched his back against the chair and screamed. Death stuck the knife through the back of Seth's hand, embedding it into the metal armrest beneath, before crouching and picking up a sharper and smaller knife.

     Death moved onto Seth's upper body and began slicing lines all over his chest. The pain, mixed with the questions raining on him made his brain fuzzy. Within minutes, his body was covered in blood and his throat was sore from screaming. Tears were sliding down his face when Death stopped and set the knife down.

     Closing his eyes, Seth lowered his head, watching his tears spill onto the blood on his chest, leaving streaks sliding down his torso.

     Death took a step back and admired his work. "Are you broken yet, Seth Sorenson?" he asked. Seth lifted his eyes to meet Deaths.

     "Not nearly," he grumbled through clenched teeth. Death chuckled.

     "I must admit, you are stronger than I expected. Stronger than some of the grown men I have tortured. But few have been able to stand to look at my true form. I think it's time we try if you can."

     Slowly, Death reached up to open his cloak, and it fell to the ground. Seth held back a horrified gasp as he stared at the towering figure in front of him. Grey fur ran all over the humanoid figure. Red eyes shone in sunken eyesockets, yellow claws extended from his hands. Death's knees were bent the wrong way and his feet were large, his nails sharp as knives. Large teeth, the tips turned red from all the flesh they had torn, sat in the creature's mouth, visible as Death growled.

     "What are you?" Seth asked with a trembling voice. Death's grin sent shivers down his spine.

     "I am a werewolf."

     "A werewolf? You howl at the moon and stuff?"

     Death gave a disgusted growled. "My kind despises that story. No. We were born like this, we do not change into wolves under the full moon. That is a lie. An insult. And if I was in your place, I wouldn't be so fast to insult me."

     Seth shrunk back as Death leaned forward and put his face only inches away from Seth's. 

     "Well, boy? Are you ready to tell me what I want to know?"

     Seth forced himself to stare back. "Go to Hell," he hissed.

     Death chuckled. "There's one thing, that you're about to learn, Seth Sorenson." His laugh turned dark. "We're already here."