Page 25
Story: Seeing Red (The Codex #1)
They never came back. After Baron took Castor away, the cell has been empty. There were no more interrogations, no torture. Not even Castor’s screams were audible. It’s as if they vanished off the face of the earth.
It’s been weeks. I can only guess what month it is. The blood on my cuts clotted and the bruises faded away, except for the shoe-sized purple mass on my side. A deep ache in my ribs came along with it, and every breath I take is painful. The last of the bread was eaten days ago and the saliva in my mouth was my only source of water, until that dried up too. I sat in the corner, with my knees tucked into my chest, and every time I passed out and woke up, I hoped Castor would come for me, but that died out along with any hope of seeing the sun again.
My eyes drift over to the door when a light scratch emanates on the other side. The effort makes a sting surge through my face. I can’t trust that I didn’t hallucinate, but the rats have been crawling around the cell through the crack in the door. I’d tried to eat one after the first week passed, but my fingers moved too slowly from the cold, and the rat squirmed out of my grip, but not before giving me an angry bite in return.
It was deserved. I’d probably bite someone too if they tried to eat me. They circle back through the cell in waves and they seem to watch me, like they’re waiting for me to die so they can feast. They probably couldn’t navigate the tunnels better than I could. They’re trapped like me, hungry, desperate and dying.
I’m dying.
A cluster of rats move through the door and stop in front of me, their noses twitching and their beady eyes blinking under the sliver of light.
My mouth waters at the sight of them, standing there so helpless and tempting. Their blood would be warm and their meat would taste like heaven roasted over a fire.
I don’t have a fire, so raw will have to do.
I lean away from the corner, my heart pounding in protest as I move to my knees. The rats back up but settle again as I catch my breath, the air stirring in a visible fog from the cold. Strands of my hair fall in front of my face, temporarily shielding it from the air. I’m not cold anymore. I’m tired. So tired. I want to sleep and eat and curl up by a warm fire just to know what heat feels like.
One rat cautiously scurries up to me, its little feet pattering across the concrete. It sniffs my hand and more join it, curiously exploring me as I watch them.
I raise my hand slowly and bring it down on top of the first rat. It squeals and squirms under my grip. I curl my fingers around it slowly, squeezing and crushing its body. The other rats scurry, bolting out the crack in the door while its friend squeals and squirms. It goes still in my hands and I smile.
Food.
I open my palm, examining its limp body but just as I’d released my grip, it springs back to life, biting my hand fiercely and scurrying away.
I crawl after it, stumbling and groaning as my stomach growls angrily. My palm slams against the door, just barely missing it as it disappears behind the crack and I sigh. No food this time, but they’ll be back. They’ll always be back.
I lean against the door, my heart lurching when I fall backwards suddenly.
The door flies open, creaking and groaning from the unwanted use, and I’m blinded when it reveals the brightly lit hallway just outside.
I stare. No one is on the other side. Not Baron. Not Castor. Not Alastor. No one. The door is unlocked. The door is open.
I’m free.
I’m free, just like that. No one came to save me. Castor hadn’t come back, but the door is open and when I peek my head out into the hallway, it’s deserted. No voices, no shadows. It’s silent. Empty.
I want to cry, and my eyes sting as if I might, just at the thought of being able to get out, to see the forest one last time, to see the mountains, the snow, the sun.
I drag myself to my feet, clutching the door for support. I slip several times before I find my bearings, but somehow, I manage to limp down the hall.
My legs wobble and each step is a threat of when my body would give up. Each door and corner I pass, I hold my breath, waiting for when Baron would inevitably come around the corner and drag me back to that cell, but the labyrinth of halls is silent and only the sound that’s audible is the beating of my own heart and my shaky unsteady breaths.
I pass another door and my knee buckles. I clutch the door for support. The muscles twitch and groan from my own weight, but whatever entity that’s out there, whether it’s life giving me hope or a cruel punishment from the sins I committed in the past, it keeps me going.
Suddenly, a door whips open and I yelp as an arm grasps my arm and yanks me inside.
A hand clamps tightly over my mouth, muffling my cries as I’m pushed up against the wall. I’m greeted by soft lamplight, and shadows looming over the furniture of the bedroom and concealing the person in front of me.
I squint through the darkness, settling on the man as he lets go of me and shuts the door with a soft click. His large frame towers over the doorway, his hand disappearing inside the maroon scarf wrapped neatly around his neck.
“Castor?”
His head turns slightly at the name but he doesn’t answer. He presses his ear against the door, listening for something, before he pulls away abruptly.
He’s alive. The thought alone makes me want to cry from relief, if not for my own escape, then at the thought that he survived. That he got away from Baron.
I cough, willing my voice to work as he moves quickly throughout the room, sifting through several trunks and drawers.
“Castor, what are you doing?”
He moves throughout the room to the other side and I catch the limp as he walks. He rips through another trunk, his gaze fixed harshly on its contents inside as he throws clothes and tools throughout the room.
He finally pulls out a bundle of clothes and he limps over towards me, wincing as he does.
“Here.” He hands me the clothes. “These might fit. Put them on.”
I take them, glancing as he hands me a larger shirt and pants, but before I can answer, he’s moving back to the door, pressing his ear against the door again.
“What about Baron?” I ask.
“I know a cabin we can take shelter in,” he says, ignoring my question.
He moves back throughout the room, sifting through the same trunk and tossing out supplies before he moves back to the door.
I grab his shoulder before he makes it to the door, and he jolts back, hissing in pain. I let go immediately and he doesn’t move. He only stares at the door, his hand twitching and jerking anxiously.
“Castor?” I say, my brows pushing together in concern. “Turn around.”
He hesitates, and the tremor in his hand slows, turning to a clenched fist as he faces me in the dim light.
I gasp.
He looks awful. His nose is twisted and broken. His lip is split and a large cut covers his jaw all the way down to his neck, soaking his scarf. That’s when I notice his knuckles are blistered and covered in dried blood.
He turns away, hiding his beaten face from my view.
“We need to go,” he says quietly. He moves back towards the center of the room, sifting through the tools and packs of supplies.
I watch him, struck at what to say. What did Baron do to him? I glance back at the door instinctively, expecting Baron to be there, his white knife clutched in his hand, heaving and angry with that psychotic look in his eyes.
Castor sighs, setting the supplies back down.
“He was going to kill you,” he says without looking back.
My heart races, unanswered questions tumbling out one after the other.
“What did you do?”
He pauses and he touches the blisters on his knuckles.
“I took care of it.”
My heart races, not with fear but anticipation. Hope. Baron could be gone. All the day’s events added up in my head suddenly and the feeling spreads throughout my chest like a new energy that I thought I’d never find in myself.
We can go home. I can go home.
I sit in a nearby chair, placing my head in my hands to stop the racing thoughts.
Castor limps to my side, coaxing me up before I have a chance to settle in the cold furniture.
“Not yet, baby. We need to get out of here first.”
He picks up a shirt and tries to fit my arm through a sleeve but I stop him, a single thought circulating and refusing to disappear, even as desperately as I want to leave.
“Why?”
“Do you really need me to answer that for you?” His eyes comb over my body before finding mine again. “I care about you, Helena. I didn’t want to, but this…”
He turns away from me, seeming to choke on his words even as he forces himself to finish.
“I’ve been trapped in this hell for so long, I forgot what it was like to feel anything. You gave me a reason to fight back, against Baron, against myself. Baron never understood you. He thinks you’re stubborn but you….fuck, you are so much more than that.” His hand reaches up, tracing along the curve of my jaw. “You are resilient, resourceful, intelligent. There’s a reason he couldn’t break you.”
He moves with caution, not like he’s afraid he would hurt me. Maybe because he wants to and he’s holding back.
I let out a breath when he takes a step back.
His eyes lock on mine, dark but not empty this time. There’s something in them that I can’t understand yet. Something dark. Primal. Hungry.
“Baron tried to kill you, and he paid the price. He touched you…” His hand reaches out and I flinch when they graze over the fresh scars on my chest. “...and no one touches what’s mine.”
“I’m not…yours,” I stutter.
Castor’s wraps around the back of my neck, the warmth of his touch sending a shiver down my spine.
“You may not believe that yet but you will.” His gaze flickers to my lips. “Do you trust me?”
This is wrong. He hurt me. Tortured me. He allowed Baron to do worse. Even if he’s a victim too, he still hurt people. My best friend. My team.
But the closer Castor leans in, the more I find my abused body begging for some form of relief.
Before I can utter a protest, Castor closes the gap, brushing his lips against mine and I nearly lose control. It’s unsettling—a dark contrast to the cruel sadism he and Baron tortured me with. This is soft, intimate. Desperate.
I bit my lip to suppress whatever desire he’s coaxing out of me. He’s begging me with pain, promising me an escape, and I’m fighting a losing battle this time.
“Answer me, Helena,” he says, his voice hoarse.
I shake my head and he chuckles.
“Such a pretty liar.” His arm loops around my waist to pull me closer until we are inches apart. Even in the darkness, I can feel him towering over me, like a shadow he plays so well. Like the devil.
“No pain this time.” His gaze flickers to the carving on my chest. “Let me help you.”
His fingers lightly brush against my cheek, and my eyes unwillingly close as he traces the contours of my face. His name falls from my lips as a whisper lost in the air, and he chuckles softly.
“You have my attention, Helena.”
His lips are quickly on mine, full of poorly controlled hunger and a promise neither of us wants to admit. His scent is just as intoxicating as the kiss, like pine and gunpowder, though he tastes far sweeter. Everything I have in me is cracking, crumbling like the concrete prison I’m chained in.
But with the desperate groan that rips through him as his tongue swipes across my bottom lip, those walls shatter.
I let him in, matching his desperation with my own while I kiss him back. My hand snakes up into his hair and tug at his curls which only seems to fuel his hunger.
Suddenly he pulls away.
“Helena,” he says darkly. “You know what I want.” His lips move from mine, planting delicate kisses along my neck towards my ear.
My pulse races in my ears, each beat thrumming through my veins like a war drum.
“Tell me again that you don’t want this,” he whispers.
“Castor…” It comes out like a prayer, an echo in my mind. Those same words were twisted, used against me time again before they inflicted inhumane amounts of pain upon me. Now, they’re my relief. My sanctuary. They’re an offering for an escape– one we both share.
Baron is dead.
Escape.
The mantra beats against my skull, something I stopped believing until Castor is standing here, his lips inches from mine and his eyes hopelessly lost in mine.
I nod slowly, a slight tremble in my voice that I can no longer hide.
“Kiss me.”
His lips crash against mine, violent and punishing. It’s consuming, a fire that swallows us both in smoke. I moan against him, my fingers tangling in his hair and pulling him closer before I even realize. I nearly hesitate, but his hand finds the small of my back, shockingly gentle despite the way his mouth devours mine. My moment of hesitation is gone when he moans into my mouth and I tug at his shirt, only managing to lift the hem before he grabs my wrists.
“Get on the bed.” he growls.
I don’t move, my body frozen in a haze of relief, fear and need. The tiny thought in the back of my mind is clinging to my fear, not of him but of what he can do, how he can hurt me and how badly I want him to.
He chuckles softly, a dark, knowing sound.
“You’re not off to a good start, babygirl.” He steps forward, closing the gap even as I take equal steps back.. “Or maybe you just like it when I take what I want.”
My foot catches when I take another step back, and I fall back on the bed. He gives me a lazy smile, prowling closer. He doesn’t close in on me, the way I know he could. He’s circling me, hunting me like his prey, and God help me, I want to be devoured.
My chest tightens every time his foot turns inward towards me. I can run. I can fight him or try to escape. I can do something except sit on the plush comforter, watching and waiting for him to take me.
But I do. And every time he steps closer, I catch a glimpse of those black voids in his eyes, stealing my breath and forcing my heart to pound against its cage.
“Is this what you want?” He asks.
He closes the gap with a single step, trapping me in place. He nudges my knees apart with his own, a satisfied grin on his face when my eyes snap to his.
He leans down, his lips inches from mine, and I can feel the heat radiating off him. “Do you want me to take what I want? Use your body for my pleasure?”
I shiver when he traces a finger along the curve of my jaw. It’s methodical and practiced. He’s reading me like a book, knowing me better than I know myself, and every reaction, every shiver and shudder that I can’t stop even if I wanted to, is pulled like the strings of a puppet. He’s making me dance for him without even trying.
I don’t catch myself staring until he’s back on me, his voice a low growl as he warns me.
“You keep looking at me like that, and I won’t be responsible for what happens after.”
I’m trembling, unable to tear my gaze away as he slides his jacket off his shoulders and kicks his boots into the corner. I close my eyes when they wrap around my throat, trying to will the frantic beating of my heart to stop before he notices.
“No, baby,” he whispers. He squeezes just enough for a whimper to escape my lips before I can stop it, and he smiles, the bastard. “You’re going to watch. You’re going to see every single thing I do to you.”
He’s gone before I can answer, his body a shadow in the soft lamp light. His muscles flex slightly under the fabric of his shirt, pulling it tight even as he slips his hand overhead and tears it from his body.
I grow still. His body is covered in scars, burns that cover his entire back and stretching across his shoulders. Where they stop, beginnings of ink cross around his neck—chain links that cross the nape and crisscross along both of his arms. Beneath the marred flesh of his back is a tree stripped of its leaves. It’s textured and detailed like it was carved into his skin, like it was a part of him.
But that’s not what makes me freeze.
There’s a third tattoo settled just above the chains that link together. A small lotus flower with an ‘A’ in its center. It’s etched into his skin with beautiful white ink, but when I glance closer, I finally recognize the image that haunted my dad’s final days.
“You’re soldiers?”
Castor tenses, his head bowing.
“Once.”
It’s different this time, when he looks at me. It’s not hunger or that void of anger and indifference that terrifies me. This is different. They’re softer. Ashamed. Sad.
But just as quickly as it came, it vanishes.
His eyes rake over my battered body. Cuts and bruises litter every inch of me from their torture, contrasting to Castor’s clean tattooed body. A single gold chain is all he wears now—a small Star of David hung loosely around his neck. He stills for a moment and his hand catches my wrist the moment I reach to cover myself.
“Don’t hide from me,” he growls. “Never fucking hide from me.”
His hand trails down the curve of my neck and I wince when his fingertips graze over the scabbed carving on my sternum. Traces of blood linger on his thumb as he traces the thick jagged lines of the star.
Rather than moving further, he places his palm over my wound, enveloping it in his own hand.
“You didn’t deserve this,” he mutters. He falls to his knees in front of me, and his lips replace his hand, planting a soft kiss in its center. Then another, and another, as if each point would secede some of the pain onto him. And heal my own.
His gaze moves up to mine as he plants a final kiss across the mark, his eyes conveying a dangerous message. “But this? This is owed.” His hand dips between my thighs, skirting dangerously close before stopping. He meets my gaze, a look that sends a bolt of lightning through me. “Last chance. Tell me no.”
I can’t. I don’t want to. I’m tired of saying no, of fighting against everything I want. I need this. I need him.
He smiles at my silence, and with a sudden, brutal force, he grabs my ankles and yanks me to the edge of the bed.
I gasp, his unnerving strength making my heart stutter, even now. He lifts my legs, presses a kiss to my ankle, then another up my calf.
“Such a pretty little doll,” he murmurs, branding me with another kiss. “So fragile.” He pulls his belt off, his voice a hoarse rumble. “So breakable.”
I look up just to see his hand wrap around his cock.
I’m not scared of a lot of things. Even when Bane sliced open every inch of skin I had, I wasn’t afraid of it. But watching his eyes grow darker when he fists his cock is terrifying.
He grins to himself and he rubs it up and down teasingly, smearing the beads of precum onto my skin.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be nice today, ” he says, his eyes meeting mine. He straightens, his free hand wrapping loosely around my thigh. “But one day, I’ll break you and this pretty ass too.”
His hands find my ass, dragging me across the bed until I’m hanging off the edge, wrapping my legs around his shoulders for purchase.
Castor chuckles, the sound vibrating against my skin and sending a shock to my core.
“So eager,” he murmurs, and I meet his gaze. “Do you want me to taste you?”
I nod.
“No,” he hums with a soft kiss on my calf. “I don’t think you’re needy enough yet.” He places another kiss on my thigh, allowing himself to linger until my fists are clenched tight.
His lips skate across my stomach, inching further and further until they reach the soft swell of my breasts. He takes a moment to watch them, scanning over each like a piece of art before kissing one softly, molding the other in his hand.
I grip the sheets painfully, bunching them up into tight fists as he teases the sensitive peaks with his tongue, moving from one to the other. It’s enough to make my clit throb with desperation. That word is on my tongue, and each time I feel that I might get some relief, he stops.
“What’s the matter, baby? I thought this is what you wanted.” He muses.
I don’t answer, instead arching my back to seek the stimulation he’s denying me.
“Ah ah, you’re not playing nice.” His hand wraps easily around my thighs, forcing me still on the bed. “So what do you want?”
You. I need you, Castor. Stop teasing me.
I shudder when his thumb slides between my labia, ghosting over my clit. I’m so lost in it that I don’t register that I didn’t verbalize my thought until he bends between my legs and flattens his tongue against my clit.
Please spiders out from my core, just enough to make my eyes roll before he stops again.
“Tell me, Helena,” he says before giving my clit another soft lick. “what…do you want?”
He’s going to kill me before he has a chance to fuck me. Fuck what Baron did to me. This is torture.
I groan, my hips moving of their own accord, trying to fight his hold on my thighs, but it only builds my frustration and his eyes flash with amusement.
“You know what I want to hear, baby. Tell me and I’ll give this to you.” He flattens his tongue again, agonizingly slow. “What do you want?”
I whine in frustration. “You, Castor.”
He hums, his lips quirking up.
“Me. Is that all?” He resumes, taking his time, and I arch into him, a muffled sob tearing from my throat.
“Castor…” I say, my voice a pathetic whine.
“You’re so pretty when you’re frustrated,” he murmurs, his voice like velvet. “I thought this is what you wanted.” He rolls his tongue along the sensitive bud and I can feel my body winding up painfully to that peak in desperately chasing.
Then he stops again.
“Asshole!”
“And yet, you’re dripping for me.” He slides a finger along my entrance. “I think you do like the humiliation.”
He plunges two fingers into me, forcing a cry from me.
“You’re a bad liar and worse at being stubborn.” He adds another finger, pushing them in slowly.
“Is this what you want?”
“Yes,” I cry, my voice cracking.
“Do you want me to fuck you?”
“Yes!”
“Then say it, Helena. Beg for it.” He doesn’t stop, doesn’t speed up. He keeps myself on the brink, fucking me hopelessly slow and even as my legs tremble and tears fall down my cheeks, he doesn’t give me that pleasure.
“Castor,” I cry. “Fuck me.”
“You can do better than that.” He slows down, a smirk playing on his lips as I cry in desperation. “Convince me.”
Tears slip down my flushed cheeks, my throat raw as I give in to that word with a strangled cry.
“Fuck me!” I scream. “I-I need your cock. I need to come. Please, Castor. Fuck me. I don’t care if it hurts. Please!”
He smirks, a predator’s smile, satisfied. “That’s my girl.”
His tongue lashes at my clit, sucking it between his teeth. He doesn’t give me any warning, his fingers thrusting into me, curling just enough to violently shove me over the edge.
I cry out, my hips bucking against his hand as my orgasm rips through me. I try to muffle the sound but his hand finds my wrist, forcing me to hear the echoes as I tremble against his tongue.
I fall limp on the bed, panting and gasping in deep breaths.
He gives my thigh a single kiss before he moves up, pressing a finger to my lips.
“Taste yourself baby.” He doesn’t wait for my answer, and he slips one inside my mouth. I don’t fight him, sucking his index into my mouth as I wait for my energy to return to my body.
I don’t remember him leaving, only barely registering his presence as he nudges my legs further apart.
“Now look at how ready this pussy is for me.” He leans, brushing a stray hair from my face. My entire body tenses as I feel him line himself up, the head of his cock teasing me before he pushes inside.
My eyes pop open. Pain floods my system as he eases inside me, spidering out until it finally shocks me into movement. My back arches as he pushes in another inch and I bite back a whimper, trying to move, but there’s nowhere to go. He’s already too deep, and every movement I make only drives him deeper.
“Oh my God,” I whisper, the words spilling from my lips before I can stop them. I try to shift, to ease the pressure, but the pain intensifies, sending shivers up my spine.
Castor sucks in a sharp breath, his muscles taut with restraint.
“Fuck, baby, I’m going to need you to stop doing that, or I’m not gonna last.” His hands are on my thighs, firm but trembling, as though holding himself back from losing control.
“It’s too much,” I gasp, my voice barely a whisper. “I can’t—”
“You can,” he cuts me off, a flicker of intensity flashing in his eyes. “You wanted this, Helena. You begged for it. You need it.” He punctuates each word with a thrust, inching deeper inside me. “I’ll make sure you take every…” Another thrust. “Single…” Another. “Inch.”
His thrusts cut off my protests, turning them to cries as he forces the last of his cock inside me. I’m shaking. Every nerve is on fire and I forget to suck in air until my head starts to swim.
“Oh my God.”
“Shhh,” he soothes, drawing out again and thrusting back in, harder this time. “Look at how well you take me,” he says, eyes hooded as he watches his cock disappear inside me.
Another thrust, and I feel that I might come apart from it all. The pain only amplifies the feeling, and it’s building rapidly.
“That’s it, baby,” he breathes, “Fuck me back.”
I don’t realize I’m doing it until his words register. My hips are moving, meeting his, desperate for more. More pleasure. More pain. I’m losing control and I feel myself winding tighter and tighter.
But suddenly, he pulls out. He throws me onto my stomach, yanking my hips up and pulling me to my knees.
“Remember,” he grumbles in my ear, “This is me being gentle.”
He slams into me without warning, shaking the entire frame of the need with the force.
I grip the sheets painfully, trying to find purchase, but his hips snap against me and flatten me on the bed each time. I can’t cry out for more, to fuck him back like before, but I don’t need to. He arches his hips up and I throw my face against the bed to muffle my pleasured moans.
“Don’t you dare.” His hand tangles in my hair, yanking my head back. “Those belong to me. Your moans. Your screams. I want them all.”
A sob tears from my throat, a mix of pain and pleasure as his words wrap around me, binding me tighter than any rope.
“More,” I stutter.
His laugh pulls at that feeling deep in my core.
“You want more?” He lets go and my head falls forward. I’m allowed only a second to breathe as his hands find my hips in a bruising grip and slam into me.
I don’t stop it this time. I let my cries echo in my ears. They reverberate off of the concrete walls alongside Castor’s soft groans.
“Fuck baby,” he groans, his voice growing strained. “You wanted me. You’ve always wanted me, and now you’ll take everything I give you.” His thrusts grow more erratic, more forceful, and I can feel the edge creeping closer again, that blinding white heat building in the pit of my stomach. “You couldn’t hide this from me, you fucking liar. You’re—” he pauses, stifling a breathy moan, “fuck, you’re going to make me come.”
“Castor…” I gasp, teeth clenched, my entire body trembling.
“I know, baby, I feel it too,” he pants, his movements becoming frantic, desperate. “Come for me while I come inside you.” He lifts me, pulling me back against him, until I can’t take it anymore.
I scream as my orgasm crashes over me, throwing me violently off that edge until I’m sure I won’t be able to climb back on.
Castor’s groans as he buries himself to the hilt. His cock pulses, thick ropes of cum shooting deep inside me as I twitch and convulse around him. He doesn’t stop, rocking into me, forcing every last drop to spill out until he collapses against me.
“That’s it baby,” he pants, his breath hot against my ear, his fingers digging into my hips as he rides out the last of his orgasm.
He pulls out slowly, collapsing beside me, his chest rising and falling rapidly as I try to will myself to move. I feel his lips press a gentle kiss between my shoulder blades, and I give up trying to get up.
The ghosts of my screams haunt the walls. They echo back at me like a shrill warning that I can’t seem to care for when I collapse on the bed.
I feel him smile against my skin, his lips tracing lazy patterns along my spine as we lie there, tangled together, the world around us slowly fading back into focus.
Suddenly, Baron’s voice cuts through.
“That was quite a show.”
I jump up, scrambling onto the bed to find him leaning against the doorframe, his arms crossed and murder in his eyes. I frantically cover myself with his discarded shirt, while Castor shuffles his pants on.
Baron isn’t as affected. He pays Castor a single glance before he turns to me.
“I didn’t think you had it in you, doll. Castor usually breaks most women he brings home.” Baron takes a step forward and I flinch. “But you are full of surprises, aren’t you?”
Castor blocks Baron when he takes another step, his hand outstretched defensively.
“Get out” he barks, a hint of challenge in his voice. “This doesn’t involve you.”
Baron’s eyes narrow, a searing glare burning into me before he turns his gaze back to Castor.
“Oh, it does,” he retorts venomously. “I thought after our last chat, you would’ve learned that captives don’t deserve pleasure.”
My heart is stuck in my throat, pounding and forcing my words to come out as a choked stutter.
“But you’re dead,” I say, my voice shaky. “Castor said–”
“Not quite.” His eyes snap to Castor, and his lips quirk up in a cruel smile as he holds up a half empty vial of ricin. “He didn’t get the dosage right, did you, buddy? You don’t even have the balls to kill me.”
He takes a single step forward and Castor moves in front of me, shielding me from Baron.
There is a quiet silence, and then Baron speaks.
“Move.”
“No.” Castor looks back at me for a moment, catching my wide-eyed stare with a soft nod towards the door.
I follow his subtle movement and then I see it. A rifle propped up next to the door. Baron’s rifle.
He’s unarmed. The base is open.
Escape.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Baron scoffs. “Did you forget who pulled you out of this shit? Who saved your ass when you fucked yourself over? Because it wasn’t her. We’ve been doing this shit for seven years, and suddenly you get some pussy and go soft?” His voice tightens to a growl and his hand trails along the handle of his knife.
“You touch her and I will fucking kill you,” Castor growls.
Another silence shadows the three of us. No one moves. Castor is eerily still, his body still protectively blocking me while he locks his gaze onto Baron. Baron, however, is vibrating with anger. His chest heaves up and down and his legs twitch with poorly contained restraint.
His face wrinkles in anger and in the blink of an eye, his knife is thrown.
Castor blocks it with a swipe of his hand, the blade clattering to the ground, and he lunges at Baron, tackling him to the ground. “Helena, run!”
I run. I sprint out the door, taking the rifle with me. My legs wobble and stumble, but through some miracle, I manage to keep my bearing. Their fight echoes through the mine, punches being thrown, bodies scrambling across the floor and Baron’s frantic grunts of pain following each hit.
He shouldn’t be alive. Castor killed him. He had to have killed him.
I have no idea where I am or where to go. I could be traveling deeper into this labyrinth of stone, and each step is a threat to collapse me.
But by some miracle, I find the hollowed metal infrastructure and the five identical tunnels at the very end. I hesitate. I can’t remember which tunnel I’d come through, or where the others might lead.
A scream sends a jolt of panic through me, followed by a gunshot. I take off down the middle tunnel and my senses are filled with wet dirt and the familiar rancid gas that permeates the tunnels. I have to be going the right way.
I twist and turn through the darkness, my hand outstretched to brace for any dead ends. I make another turn and a hand wraps around my wrist.
I yelp as it jerks me towards the wall while the other wraps around my mouth gently.
“Shh, it’s okay. It’s just me.” A flashlight clicks on seconds later and I see those familiar dark eyes. His face is flushed the same color of his scarf wrapped tightly around his neck. He’s dressed now, and a small pistol is in his hands.
He doesn’t wait for my response. He laces his fingers with mine.
“Run!” He pulls me down the hall with alarming speed.
I follow, my legs just behind his as we race down the black tunnels. Even with the bright flashlight, we can’t see more than a few feet in front of us, but it doesn’t deter him.
He yanks me in the opposite direction when I try to make the turn opposite. “No, this way.” He navigates the tunnels like he’s lived here his entire life, narrowly missing each dead end towards the outside.
Even with my heart pounding in my ears and our combined breaths a blinding sound in the tunnels, my chest constricts in fear when I hear a third pair of footsteps in the distance.
“Time to fucking play, doll!” Baron shrieks in the darkness.
“Go!” My pulse races and I push against him. His grip in my hand tightens but he picks up the pace. Baron’s footsteps are getting louder and louder and when I see the rays of sun illuminate the end, I nearly cry.
We’re there. We escaped, both of us. I never thought I’d see the sun again, that I’d die in a sea of fluorescent lights and rat shit, but there it is, glowing like a heaven’s light. Our sanctuary.
Just as I can reach the exit, Castor stops. I open my mouth to speak, but I stop when I see tears in his eyes. His hand drops from mine and he slowly takes the rifle from my hands.
“What are you doing?”
“You need to find help.” He checks the chamber, and loads the gun. “Take shelter. Get away from here.”
My heart sinks and I shake my head.
“You can’t be serious.” I say, my voice cracking. “You’re coming too.”
“Someone’s going to die, Helena, and it’s not going to be you.” He pushes me towards the exit. “Go.”
The wind picks up my hair and the scent of the forest calls to me, pleading with me, begging me to listen to Castor, but I can’t listen. Not when we’re so close to getting out of this.
“We can outrun him,” I say. “Please, Castor.”
“Not in these mountains and not in the condition you’re in. We need every second we can get.”
Baron’s footsteps are louder and I can feel his crazed heaving breaths.
“Come with me,” I beg, tugging at his arm. “The embassy can give us sanctuary and Bane could be there with help. They’ll take care of Baron.”
“In Vienna? We won’t make it.”
“No, there’s another. A hidden one not far from here. Bane is waiting there. He can help us.”
“Where?”
I point to the outside, where the degraded fence rests. “In the forest, five miles south of the outpost.”
“Beautiful,” Baron says.
I freeze, my head whipping back to see Baron resting casually in the shadows of the tunnels. He’s uninjured, his voice calm and even.
“Now that’s how you extract information,” he smirks. “Well done Castor.”
My heart drops.
No…
I glance up at Castor, and that look is back—the look of Devil, cold, calm and soulless.
He moves away from me silently, handing Baron the rifle, before taking his side next to him.
It’s gone, and I feel sick. We almost made it. I almost made it.
Baron laughs, a cruel, unfeeling sound. “Oh doll. Did you forget where you were? Did all that pleasure really make you forget who we are?”
“No. You’re lying!” Tears blur my vision, my chest feeling as though it’s being crushed. “You’re lying,” I sob.
“Am I?” Castor takes a step forward. I backtrack with his slow movements but he cages me in, his eyes drifting from my poorly covered body.
I flinch when he caresses my face, “No, you said…Baron tried to kill you. You tried to help me. You said you cared about me!”
“I lied.”
He grabs my arms but I wrench it away.
“Don’t touch me!” I shout, but his hand is back in seconds, grabbing me with a force that has me bending from the pain.
“Didn’t seem to mind a few minutes ago, did you?” He throws me forward and I fall onto Baron. I push him away as his hand snakes around my neck.
“Stop!” I rip his hand from my neck, and my shouts start to turn frantic, my breaths shallow and panicked as Castor pins my arm behind me. “Bastard! Let go!”
Castor pulls me away without a word, and I feel the gun pressed firmly against my back.
“Move,” Baron orders.
They drag me back, back into the tunnels, away from the light, my sanctuary.
I fight them, my cries quick and frantic. I can’t go back there. I was almost out. I was out.
“Let me go! Let me go!” I cry.
They force me deeper into the tunnels and slowly, the light disappears. I start crying, hyperventilating, my body thrashing against Castor’s hold, but none of them speak. They don’t force me to stop. They just drag me back into the darkness, back to my hell.
I collapse, my body falling limp against his hold and my mind fracturing.
“Please…”
Table of Contents
- Page 1
- Page 2
- Page 3
- Page 4
- Page 5
- Page 6
- Page 7
- Page 8
- Page 9
- Page 10
- Page 11
- Page 12
- Page 13
- Page 14
- Page 15
- Page 16
- Page 17
- Page 18
- Page 19
- Page 20
- Page 21
- Page 22
- Page 23
- Page 24
- Page 25 (Reading here)
- Page 26
- Page 27
- Page 28
- Page 29
- Page 30
- Page 31
- Page 32
- Page 33
- Page 34
- Page 35
- Page 36
- Page 37
- Page 38
- Page 39
- Page 40
- Page 41
- Page 42
- Page 43
- Page 44
- Page 45
- Page 46
- Page 47
- Page 48
- Page 49
- Page 50
- Page 51
- Page 52
- Page 53
- Page 54