Page 84

Welcome Back, Slave

I don’t get time to gawk at my revelation, I am hustled inside the castle.

Past the throne room and straight to the dungeon.

Three flights of stairs, three locked doors, and six cells later, I am tossed inside by two impatient Berserkers.

I turn back around and glare at them as the metal barred door slides shut, locking me in.

When the guards step back, I step up to the bars and holding on, peer through.

Vasilisy is thrown in the cell opposite me, and Evan to the left of him.

I can’t see anyone else and when the guards walk away, I turn back around.

“They only took us?” I demand.

Vasilisy leans against the stone wall and turns his head to face me. “Aye, little queen, too many guards a think. So they grabbed what they could and got out of there.”

I nod, it makes sense. Plus, the others would have been on their way, and they wouldn’t want to be there when backup turned up, would they. Fuck, the guys are going to lose their shit when they get there and find out I am gone. I hope they don’t do anything stupid.

I mimic Vasilisy’s position but slump on the cold hard floor instead.

With nothing else to do but wait, I look around my cell and with a gasp I realise, it is actually my cell.

The one from when I was younger… fucking asshole.

I run my eyes around the room... it feels smaller.

Or maybe I am just bigger, no longer half-starved and crazy.

The metal bed frame stands next to me, pushed to the wall of the cell with only a mouldy, soggy mattress and pillow on top.

A small window sits high up on the back wall, with claw marks on the wall underneath from when I tried to reach it.

On the wall opposite me and hidden after the barred door is a pot and another stone wall.

This one marked up with chalk. Line after line, each one representing a day I survived.

My head hits the wall as I stare at the ceiling.

It’s just an other head game, another way to remind me of what I am, but this time it won’t work.

“Doc, you okay?” I ask eventually, needing to fill the quiet.

“Fucking peachy,” he grumbles, and I snort.

“Why did they take you?” I ask, confused. Vasilisy makes sense, but Doc?

Vasilisy starts laughing and I look over at him with an arched eyebrow look. “What?” I ask when he just chuckles. I glance at Doc to see his face is bright red and he is looking at everything but me.

“Your Doc here, he decided to tag along. Some shit about protecting ya, keeping ya alive,” Vasilisy says through chuckles and I look back at Evan with a wide-eyed look.

“Doc, why?” I ask eventually, truly shocked. Why the hell would he volunteer to come with me?

“Someone has to keep your crazy ass alive. You think those boyfriends of yours won’t kill me if you die? Nope, I like my cock where it is, thank you. So, you better keep your crazy ass in this world.” With that, he shuffles away, and I hear him slide down the wall in his cell.

A grin stretches my face even as I call out, “I knew you liked me, Doc.”

“Fuck off,” comes the muttered reply.

I laugh and let the conversation die.

Ivar leaves us down here for hours, trying to make us panic and do something stupid. It doesn’t work, so I wait patiently. Knowing with each hour I am down here is another hour my men are out there looking for me.

“Walk faster,” says the Berserker guard.

He grabbed me about ten minutes ago, leaving a screaming, angry Vasilisy behind, and a narrow-eyed Doc.

I glare at the guy before speeding up. He stops me at a familiar room and knocks on the door before stepping back and leaning against the wall.

When it opens, I throw one last glare at the guard.

“Welcome back, slave,” he says with a grin.

I don’t reply before stepping into the sitting room, or as Ivar calls it, his play chamber.

The room is dark, the curtain pulled shut tight, so the only light is the fire roaring in the corner of the cold room.

I shiver but don’t try to cover any more of my skin, it won’t make a difference, he keeps it cold as another form of punishment.

I don’t know where he is, but I run my eyes around the room.

It’s the same, and not, all at the same time.

Two sofas face each other near the fire, and that’s where the cozy part of the room ends.

A rack of weapons runs the length of the wall on the other end of the room with tables underneath filled with his torture equipment, or toys as he calls them.

The last time I was here, there was a creepy statue I used to lock my eyes on in the corner of the room, but it now lays in pieces on the floor, like he broke it and wouldn’t let anyone fix it.

The massive painting of the castle surrounded by flames has knife marks through it and hangs at a wonky angle.

It looks like someone went on a rampage.

“I missed you, pet,” comes his voice from somewhere in the darkness. I squint as I look for him.

He steps out of the shadows and the fire lights up his face. The flames twisting and dancing across the burn scars. I don’t bother replying, not willing to play his games.

“You know I don’t like it when you ignore me,” he growls, the anger in his voice rising. “What do you say to that, pet?” he growls the last and steps closer again. I know what he wants me to say, but I seal my lips shut and instead, offer him a fuck off smile.

I watch the moment he snaps and, in a detached sort of way, wonder why I decided to push him. The lock clicks loudly in the room as he turns away from the door and walks to his toys. I wait there, like a statue, for whatever he will do. As long as he doesn’t kill me, I can survive it.

When he decides on his toy, he turns back to me, his eyes alight with the need for pain and suffering. I offer him nothing, my face blank and my mind already drifting away to happier times.

I must have drifted more than I thought because he appears in front of me at the same time something digs into my arm.

Looking down, I stare at the pliers clipped onto my skin––interesting choice.

He only usually goes for those when he wants to take his time.

He pulls back, leaving two cuts that slowly trickle blood down my skin.

“We are going to have some fun, pet. How I missed you,” he mutters, caressing my face with the pliers before he runs them across my lips, cheek, and finally to my ear.

I stumble when he clips the skin there, but I swallow the scream and straighten my stance.

When I don’t react he throws his toy away.

“I want you to scream for me,” he threatens, his voice low.

I smile at him again. “Not a chance. Cut me, hit me, bite me, break me, but I will never scream. Not ever again.”

He lets out a horrible yell and goes mad, full Berserker, nothing but insanity in his eyes. I don’t even try and protect myself as punches and kicks rain down on me. I revel in the pain, letting it consume me.

Minutes blur together, and I find myself in a gasping heap on the floor as his booted foot smashes into my ribs.

I hear them crack and I bite my lip to hold in my howl.

It goes on and on, him screaming at me the whole way through.

Telling me he missed me, he hates me. That I am his.

When he has purged his system, he stumbles away as if drunk, and lands on one of the sofas and stares at me as I lay on the floor on my side.

I watch in disgust as he buries his hand in his pants, gasping and groaning at my blood coating his cock.

I push myself to my knees and then to my feet.

Not looking at him as I hear him jerk himself off.

He comes with a pathetic sounding groan and seems to forget about me for five minutes.

When he remembers I am there, he walks over and kisses my cheek before slipping out of the door.

Once he has gone, I let out a sigh, my body screaming at me.

At this point I don’t know how I am still standing.

The guard from outside comes back in, he takes one look at me and sighs, his eyes turning sad for a moment before he covers it up.

“Come on, slave.” He doesn’t touch me, but I follow him as he leads me back down to the cells.

I nearly fall down the stairs, my legs hurt that much but he catches me, and without a word, helps me walk the rest of the way.

At this point, I can feel myself shutting down, I lean on him even more and he basically carries me.

Opening the cell door, he walks me towards the bed and lays me down gently even as Vasilisy and Evan scream questions and insults at him.

I look into his face as he arranges my body, wincing when he looks at me, he looks defeated. “Thank you,” I mutter, and he jerks before his eyes meet mine.

“Don’t–don’t ever thank me. Not for this, god not for this.” He stumbles away and runs away like the hounds of hell are on his tail, only just remembering to lock my cell before he leaves.

I breathe through the pain, I can hear them calling me but I can’t answer just yet. I feel like if I open my mouth, the scream I held in will come out and might never stop.

“Please, little queen, talk to me,” Vasilisy begs, and it’s the desperation in his voice that gets me going.

“I’m okay,” I say as loud as I can before I start hacking out coughs, each one jarring my bruised ribs, searing my insides.

“Like the hell you are,” Evan yells, making me smile as I close my eyes and settle back.

“I’ve had worse, don’t worry about it. Try and get some rest, they will be planning something tomorrow.”

Evan grumbles but I hear him shuffle and then get on his creaky bed. Vasilisy’s breathing is so loud I can hear it from here, and it’s surprisingly comforting.

“Sing to me?” I ask, allowing my weakness to show for one second.

He doesn’t answer but a soft, loving song pours from his mouth, wrapping me up in the story about a woman and a man who run away to be together and build a house on a lake. As my eyes are fluttering shut, I get a few more words out. “Thank you, Vassy.”

His song stutters to a stop. “Anytime, little queen, anything for you,” he replies vehemently, sounding choked up. He’s quiet for a few minutes before his song starts up again and I find myself lost in his words.