The Legend of Eleasi
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- Parts 46
Finally, she let her guard down. It was as if she knew that the only way to hurry to the end of this encounter was to accept defeat and let him kill her. Bricen shoved the girl to the ground. His sword lingered over her for some time drawing out the anticipation of pain for the both of them. He caught his reflection in his blade but did not recognize the man he saw. He looked like Bricen but older, grey was beginning to take over as the primary color in his hair. His beard was no longer youthful and scraggy but full and thick. He pushed his sword into her. Her small body offered very little in the way of resistance to the pressure.
"Eleasi!" Kenna screamed out in pain as she ran towards them with Bren closely behind her.
The light of life was fading from her bright blue eyes. Tears formed in her eyelids, waiting until they had gathered enough force to attack her flush red cheeks. She managed only one word but that one word said enough to fill many books. It accused and questioned him. It spurned him far more than any physical infirmities ever could. "Daddy."
Kenna threw herself to the ground. The thud of her knees hitting was hardly noticeable over the weeping.
The girl was dead.
His daughter was dead.
Eleasi was dead.
Hope was dead.
Bricen was dead.
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Re-posting. The common story is that finding a mate is supposed to make the wolf stronger. For an alpha, finding his mate, blessed by the moon goddess, strengthens the pack. But there can be such darkness hidden in that dynamic. Even those of cruel hearts can seek the power of a mate. And the damage they cause might not ever be healed. ***** Prologue: Drip. Drip. Drip. The rhythm or the water would have been soothing if it hadn't been so cruel. Drip. As it was, it was nothing more than a taunting form of torture. Drip. Ears could hear the soft thudding of raindrops at the end of the hall as a door was pulled open in squeaking protests and then shut with a harsh metallic clang. How the rain made its way into the depths of the cement room, it didn't matter. It was there. Drip. Step. Drip. Step. The footsteps were strong and full of purpose. Though just as unwanted as the drops of water that fell too far out of reach. Unable to quench the dehydrated desperation chained to the wall. Drip. Step. Drip. Step. Only one set of footsteps. There was no question of the destination or purpose that carried them down the hall. Not that it was a surprise. It was always the same. First the pain, then the visit. The cell door opened to darkness. There was no energy to move, not even enough to will eyelids to open. Not that it mattered. The visit never changed. What more could be said? What more could be done? All that mattered was that stale, barely edible food was only given after he was done. Only then, could there be any comfort from hell. ***** WARNING- This story does delve into topics of kidnapping, imprisonment, rape, murder, and violence. Though the scenes are not explicitly detailed, underage readers are discouraged. Also note that I do not own the rights to any photos I have or might post for this story. Just photos I found online, cropped and edited. The story however, is all mine. No copy of content is permitted.
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