Order of the Golden Dawn (Neophyte Series 2)

CHAPTER 21 : THE BLOOD OF THE MARTYRS

        The once charming and charismatic eyes of the young man I had known, now tired and defeated as he lay bound and exposed before me. Though his skin wrinkled and sagged, there was no mistaking the Bishop eyes; the common family trait that was specific to our bloodline. As he lifted his head his bald scalp reflected the surrounding torchlight and a familiar, crooked grin revealed that he was pleased to see me. It felt like I had not seen that smile for a hundred years; in fact, it had been.

    'Be gone from my sight, tormentor. I have no interest in your parlor tricks.' His much lower, frog-like voice pushed from his throat.

    'Edward... it's me.'

     Our gaze lingered for a moment as he clearly needed time to decide if I was real or an illusion placed before him with malicious intent.

    'She wasn't just another notch after all, was she?' I asked, hoping that he would remember one of the last conversations we had shared.

    'Meric? It can't be.' His eyes glistened with tears as my words filled him with a surprising joy.

    'Yes, cousin. It's really me. How the hell did you get down here? Why are you bound like this? Aren't you one of them?'

    'I suppose I was. Much has changed since last we spoke, Meric. By god, you haven't aged a day.'

    'I thought we were . . . you know; immortal.'

    'There is much you need to know, Meric. Release me from my torment and I will tell you everything.'

    With his instructions, I began loosening the chains at his feet first. When his first unchained foot touched the ground, he just about collapsed, but the other chains still supported his weight.

    'I'm sorry, Meric. I have been suspended here for much longer than I thought.'

    'Worry not, Edward. We'll get you out of this place, even if I have to carry you out myself.' I pulled on his arm braces with no success. Upon inspection of the clasps, I noticed keyholes, and realized that it might take more than just loosening his chains to free him.

     'I'm going to need to find something to break these chains.'

    'You won't be able to. The metal itself is enchanted; have a look.' Upon close examination, I spotted the tiny encryptions upon each link. It was clear that if I was going to take him with me, I must find the key to his shackles.

    'Where would I find the key?'

    'The dungeon keeper. He should be lurking about somewhere.' Un-cranking the chains from each post of the device, I was able to give him enough slack to at least rest upon the floor while I located the key.

    'I won't be long. Rest now, for you will need your strength.'

     Walking through the dungeon was almost unbearable. The odor of decay and body excrement hung heavy in the air, and it only encouraged me to move quicker. I entered another vast section, and as I gazed above, my jaw dropped. Several storeys high there were torture devices of every conceivable setup. Though their predicaments were nothing to laugh at, I had seen worse upon my arrival here in Hell. Getting close to a middle-aged woman strapped into a neck-stretching chair, I sought further instruction.

    'Can you tell me which way the dungeon master went?'

    'Keep walking; look for a staircase that leads below.' She answered without looking directly at me.

    'Is this dungeon reserved for specific people, like the lake of fire?' I asked.

    'Everyone here is of certain value to Lucifer, in one way or another.' She revealed.