The Chronicles of Heaven's War: Burning Phoenix
Page 30
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Sirion had no strength to cry out in agony as Godenn dug his fingernails into her face while slamming her head into the metal wall of the tiny cell. Flashing a garish grin, watching blood trickle from torn flesh, his cheerful voice filled the chamber with carefree melody. “My, my, such a pleasant day for a party. I do hope your friends will enjoy the way their little girl has been all made up for it.”
Sirion did not move, could not. Even though the pain in her bowel was excruciating, the woman’s every breath sending blinding spasms up her spine and into her head, there was no energy left within her broken body to even allow a whimper to escape her lips. Though unable to focus her sight upon the face of the man torturing her, she could smell the stench of his rotten breath, reeking of drugs and strong drink. She did not hear Godenn’s sweet rhapsody, her mind only seeking the peaceful quiet of Death’s repose. Yet Death dare not tread her road this day.
Disappointed at seeing no response, Godenn cooed again, this time in such a motherly, chastising way. “Now, now, my dear little one, I am so surprised. I would have thought to see some excitement from you at hearing of your family’s arrival. They’ve come for you, you know, all the way, just for their little darling.”
He released his grip and walked across the cell to a tiny window. Peering out, he exclaimed so cheerfully, “They’re almost here, dressed up like in celebration. Why, in a little bit, you and me will walk arm in arm out to greet them. They’ll be so surprised to see you.”
He turned back and pulled up a stool in front of Sirion, frowning. “We’ll miss you, you know. Have gotten quite fond of you... Never had you to share a bed with ‘til …” He grinned. “I’m sure you remember the night… Well, anyway, I expect you’ll recall your little visit all right, with real fondness...” He laughed.
When Sirion did not respond to Godenn’s comments, he reached into a shoulder bag to retrieve a small medical kit. Removing a syringe, he jabbed the needle into an artery just below the girl’s ear. She winced in pain as the drug raced to her brain. With a cry, the woman sucked in a deep breath, her body and mind coming alive with anxious energy.
Godenn grinned. “There! There! That’s a good one. Need you wide awake for the show... Now let’s get on with it.”
After removing the neck brace that held Sirion’s head upright and forced her upper body back against the wall, Godenn pulled from his bag a strange-looking, spiked collar. Snapping it tight around her neck with a large circular clasp, through which he fastened a heavy leash, Godenn lowered the girl’s cuffed hands and chained them up short to the collar so that the weight of limp arms hung heavy upon Sirion’s neck. He yanked hard on the leash. Sirion howled, the sharpened inner studs biting deep through bruised skin and torn muscle.
Godenn laughed, sinister, “Now, now, little darling, you be a good girl and I won’t push this button, least not now. I’d hate to see that pretty little head of yours pop off its shoulders. That’s true…at least not yet.” He laughed again.
Getting up, he walked back over to the window. It would be a while before the prisoners were to be released. There was little more for him to do but wait and keep the girl alive and able to walk. He had to keep her alive, at least for a little while longer. It was for his own wellbeing.
Slowly tilting his head from side to side, Godenn studied the broken, tortured creature across the cell. Finally he grinned, toothy, wide, snapping his fingers. “You know, I think you need just a little more dressin’ up.” With that, he stepped forward, drawing his fist back, and smashed Sirion square in the face.
‘Thud!’ Sirion’s head slammed into the wall as blood spattered all over. Godenn stepped back, smiling. The girl’s nose was smashed flat, crushed to pulp. “There!” the man cooed. “I think you’re ready for the show.”