Page 50 of An Unexpected Ascension (A War Between Worlds #1)

The Demon

Each bite of the whip against my lacerated back burns like a torch pressed to my flesh. It slips and splashes with blood at each snap. My body has given up many times over, yet I’m still here, still enduring this torture.

The only reprieve I’ve been granted is in the form of lowered shackles, but the damage to my shoulders is already done. Now, I press myself into the stone wall, curled on my haunches and trying to protect my head as the unrelenting leather splits my skin wherever it lands.

I don’t even hear my own screams anymore. Not as they tear from my mouth and die on the stones before me never reaching the ears of my tormentor.

At the very least, the youngest of Achaz’s sons, Silas, would rather make me bleed than rape every hole I have.

For that, I guess I am grateful.

With each lashing, Silas spews on about how a demon deserves his punishment. How he’s merely carrying on with my atonement for all the sins I’ve committed. As if what he and his brother are doing is only to bring justice to the fallen when it’s their acts that belong in the dungeon of Lucifer’s manor.

I’ve taken lives like I was the decider of fate. I’ve lied, I’ve tricked, I’ve stolen. I have hated with every ounce of my heart, but what I have never done was debase someone so thoroughly that they begged for something beyond death.

What these Gods are doing here is deplorable.

That’s what I tell myself as I take every bit of their affliction.

“Ask for one more, Demon.”

Silas growls, breath heavy.

“Ask for one more lashing and it can be your last.”

My lips quiver, slippery with spit and snot. Each shuddering breath of pain draws strings of saliva from my mouth to the concrete floor. I heave, the fire along the flesh of my back is unbearable.

“No? Still too arrogant? Pride is a sin, you know?”

I can feel the shift in the air around us as he raises his arm for another go.

“W-wa-wait,”

I urge between a sob, the fight to hold back no longer existent.

“I’ll take one more.”

He chuckles.

“Have you lost your manners?”

My fingers curl into fists. “Please.”

And with that word comes six more lashings.

By the time Silas leaves me, I’m cradling my knees to my chest while lying on my side.

Blood pools beneath me, keeping me warm as shivers wrack my body.

Death’s icy talons scrape along my insides, taunting me with what I will never know again – peace.