Differences Aside, ✔

Chapter Thirty Eight

Elora's POV

Time had become something that was only a figment of my imagination.

I felt like I had been in here for days. When in reality, I had no idea how long I had been trapped in this prison. Everything bled into each other, my days monotonous and repetitive.  I was tired, so unbelievably tired. My sleep came in harsh, short periods. My head would connect with the broken mattress but be woken in what felt like minutes. Sometimes it was nightmares, other the banging of something against my cell door, telling me that it was time for something new.

I liked to think that it had been bearable. The jabbing, the whipping, the hitting, the tearing, the sewing, the healing. That it was familiar, that it was just what I had experienced before everything had happened, back when I was working in the factory.

My life before Maddox.

I tried so hard to believe it, but in the end, I just couldn't. It was worse than anything I had ever seen or heard about. Since arriving, I had only seen Nero, him and his brutal weapons. Belial hadn't come near me, nor any of his mystery brothers. I had no idea whether or not that was a good thing.

I hated moving. Every inch of movement sends pain rippling through every muscle, bone and limb. They certainly hadn't held back.

But I hadn't given in. Not a sliver of information had left my lips, my undying sense of loyalty came through. Though I'm not sure if it was paying off.

I was suffering, and I seemed to be making no progress. It was clear that we were in a fortress, no way of getting in or out, at least not without being caught and killed.

I shook away my thoughts, a slight ache taking over behind my eyes.

SMACK!

It brought me back into reality, the sadly familiar figure of Nero standing at my door.

"Get up, we're doing something fun today." He called out, a sinister grin still plastered on his face.

I made no sound as I heaved myself up off the floor and stagger over towards the cell door, collapsing against it as I felt a stabbing pain in my kidney. 

It was muscle memory at this point, I shoved my wrists forward and through the gaps, Nero quickly snapping a thick, broken, separate piece of rope around each of my wrists, pulling it so tight that my hands started going red.

He clicked the door open, letting it swing open, dragging me out and back into the hallway.

"We're doing something a little different today," He whispered in my ear, "I hope you're feeling up to it."

I didn't reply. One wrong word could cause an eruption of uncontrollable anger, not something I wanted to risk.

He turned me around and we began walking up the stairs that I had first come down. I had been stuck in the same torture room every day since we got here.  The steps were awful, the rotting planks creaking underneath my feet with every step I took. I sucked my breath in the fear that it would collapse underneath me. But maybe that was a good thing, it might be the chance of escape that I had been waiting for.

Alas, nothing happened, so we kept walking. We pushed through the door, revealing us to another hallway.

We turned away, turning down an unfamiliar path. My eyes kept drooping closed, I hadn't eaten, I hadn't slept, I was weak, my bones aching more and more with each step. Some of my wounds hadn't even closed yet, not to mention begin healing.

It was more painful than anything I had ever experienced.

Yet I carried on.

We seemed to be walking for miles before we came into another room.