A Prince of the Nobillo
Content Warning: Torture (Non-sexual)
Chapter 19: Butcher
Lindsay was led to the room. The large white room with the pale greenish lights down the long prison hallway. She made the walk every morning, cuffed to two guards, followed by another. She was still sore from the night before, Rivuk still might not be talking to her, but he left no doubt of the intensity of his feelings for her.
He put every ounce of his passion and pain into her until she ached in both body and heart as the silence spoke the betrayal his lips did not. It was still pain, not love, she felt every time he went into her. But it was something, it was still a connection to him. It was better than nothing.
In some ways.
It killed her when he left without a single word. She'd rather he yell at her than this endless silence that felt like a knife in her heart every time. She'd focus on that pain to get her through whatever torture they had in store today.
Mornings were always hell.
They'd whip her, beat her, cut her, all the while demanding answers. Half the time she passed out from the pain. The other half, she just pretended to. Either way, it didn't stop until they thought she was unconscious. Then they'd drag her back to her cell and Carak would come and treat her wounds.
It almost seemed worth it for those hours with him; it wasn't, but knowing he would be there at the end gave her strength. She could endure it. Then Rivuk would come and screw her brains out and she could forget, for a few hours, the pain the silent goodbye and the morning would bring.
But the silent goodbye always came.
And morning soon followed.
Morning and an empty bed in a cell they never cleaned which had grown progressively redder from her own blood. Sometimes she'd come to and see the imprint of her body high on the wall from where they'd thrown her against it. They'd done it while she was faking unconsciousness, too. She'd listened to them laugh at how her body looked when it hit the wall, how it looked crumpled on the floor.
She woke up in the middle of the night sometimes, her heart racing, thinking she heard their footsteps at the door.
She clenched her jaw as they came to the door. Just endure it. Just a few hours and it'll be over and Carak will be there. He'll make it all go away. And he always did.
The door to the interrogation room opened.
"Good morning, Princess Lindsay," Elihim said with an oily smile.
Panic raced through Lindsay's veins. "What are you doing here?" she demanded.
"Our interrogator was not getting the results we required, so we agreed to step in to assist," Elihim answered as the guards hooked Lindsay to wrist shackles which hung above her head, then they did similarly with her ankles to the floor so she was stretched out like an "x".
"We?"
Boz stepped out from behind her, holding a syringe. "Yes, we."
