by Ashley Nemer
CHAPTER SEVEN
Hamza walked into the room with his guard, looking at Nikole’s still body lying on the table. “Is she dead?” he questioned.
“No sir, she passed out while we were in the middle of the procedure. We were doing like you instructed and burning her body with the needles, when she went unconscious. We thought it best to come get you right away.”
Hamza looked over her body, placing his fingers to her neck and feeling only a small hint of life. His lips curved up in excitement as he anticipated what was yet to come. “Good, leave us alone.” He started to walk around the table, staring at her naked and bloodied body.
The room emptied out while Hamza continued to circle the table. He tried to decide what to do with this dead weight prisoner. Leaning over her body, he backhanded her jaw, the cracking of her bones deafening, in the silence of the room. He heard her moan in agony while she slowly came to consciousness.
“Nikole, I think it would be best if you just gave me what I asked of you. As soon as you tell me what we want to know, this pain will all stop.” Taking his knife from the sheath on his belt, he placed the cold blade to her cheek. “I will cut your pretty little face apart. Don’t think I won’t.” Taking the tip of the blade he broke the skin at the top of her left cheek and slowly cut lines into her face. Droplets of blood ran down her cheek, staining her flesh as he slashed her face. Nikole’s voice was gone from all the screaming she has done and all she could do was heave a cry. Her eyes were still forced open, not even tears could form since she couldn’t blink. “Come on, little Princess, just tell me where Zayn is so I can kill him. I promise this will all stop.”
She slowly shook her head to the left and right, not even an inch of movement, but the answer was no. She would never give up her akh. She would always remain loyal to him, to their legacy.
Hamza was getting frustrated with her lack of cooperation, but he could appreciate the loyalty she displayed for family. He needed her to have a reason to give up something as valuable as her blood. “Princess, do you know the pain of losing your fingers knuckle by knuckle? I have this pair of pliers’ right here, and I think we can start with the pinky finger, or maybe the big toe.” He took the pliers into his hand, running the cool metal down her naked body, and then pressed the pliers to her skin above her right thumb as she lost consciousness, again.
Hamza watched her eyes dilate, the changing of the purple as her coloring burned violet. He knew she was scared; their eyes only reacted like that with emotion. He had her where he wanted her. He knew he would be able to force her now.
He cursed under his breathe and called for help. “Someone please keep her awake! How am I supposed to get any information from her if she keeps passing out? IDIOTS! All of you!” Hamza stormed off, out of the room, running into Derrik in the hallway.
“What are you doing to her?” He practically shouted “Is all that really necessary?” Hamza sneered at him; the sight of this pathetic reaction, revolted him, made worse knowing that that Derrik would one day be on the throne
“What is wrong with you? Did you become a girl over night or what? You have feelings for your eben amty there?” Hamza laughed at Derrik, his displeasure with the questioning him, evident.
Derrik balled his fists and punched Hamza in the jaw, pushed him against the wall, and began to beat on him. Hamza jabbed Derrik in the ribcage. Derrik punched at Hamza’s diaphragm, knocking the wind out of him. The men exchanged punch after punch. Hamza’s head hit the wall as Derrik’s fist struck under his chin; he felt his brain swash back and forth because of the hard hit. Hamza pushed off the wall and charged at Derrik, wrapping his arms around his waist as he shoved him into the other wall. Hamza’s body bent over around Derrik’s lower half causing Hamza’s balance to wobble.
Derrik took his elbow and struck between Hamza’s shoulder blades. Hamza fell to the ground as bones cracked. Derrik put Hamza in a lock on the ground and pulled out the handcuffs he had found in his office. Derrik secured Hamza to the pipes along the wall swiftly before anyone else came in. Kicking him in the face with his boot, he took off for the room Nikole was being held in.
Walking into the room, Derrik looked over Nikole’s body, all the blood and bruises, the cuts. He cupped her face in his hands and placed a kiss on her forehead. “I am so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t…” He coughed out an apology as his heart slowly beat to the tears that start to run down his cheek. He released the eye holders then started to work on her wrist restraints. Pulling against the metal, the right one finally slipped off. He heard Nikole start to murmur. He leaned over her body, his ear coming up beside her mouth so he could hear her frail voice and he heard her breathless whisper. “Thank you.” It was at that moment Derrik grabbed his own chest in pain.
He stumbled back away from the table. Unsure of what happened; he turned around seeing Dominic standing there. He could feel blood running down his body, his knees starting to go weak. He looked from his chest to Dominic, shock etched on his face. “Wha...what have you done?” The words barely made it out as he gasped for air before falling to his knees. Derrik tried to move back to the table, but Dominic kicked him back. His foot locked with Derrik’s stomach, sending him toward the ground.
“Abb told me if you ever backed out of a mission to kill you. I saw what you did to Hamza and you were going to free her. You had to die. I’ll tell abb that he only had one ebn’ worthy of his name.” Dominic leaned down, grabbing Derrik by the hair to look him in the eye. “He never loved you.” He took his knife, and with one smooth motion, sliced his akh’s throat, relishing in the river of blood pouring out.
Hamza came into the room after being freed by one of his guards, to see Derrik on the ground, bleeding out, while Dominic now held the knife at Nikole’s throat. “Stop, Dominic, we still need her.”
Dominic held back his disgust for Hamza then bowed in respect and began to leave. “Why did you kill him? He’s the boss’s ebn’,” Hamza asked.
“I saw him attack you and try to free her. Boss’s ebn’ or not, he was a traitor to the cause. I am sure Haydar will not mind.” It took all the control Dominic could summon not to slice his throat. Who did he think he was, to question him?
Nikole laid there, listening to their conversation, wavering in and out of consciousness. Did Hamza not know they were akhs? She was having a hard time making out what they were saying; her ears were ringing from the pain and torture. She was starting to lose her senses. She began to think she could even hear Zayn in her mind, talking to her. She closed her eyes and said a silent prayer for Zayn to come save her.
“Just let me kill her already. She hasn’t told you anything and isn’t going to. We have wasted enough time here. Eventually, they will find us,” Dominic argued.
“If you want to leave, leave, but do not tell me how to run my operation. Now you are excused from this room for the remainder of the time.” Hamza barked out.
Dominic left the room, not looking back at the pitiful site he had witnessed. It was no wonder things were never finished with someone like Hamza in charge. Back in the torture chamber, Hamza grabbed the pliers from the floor after making sure she was once again secured to the table. Nikole could see him approaching and frantically tried to break the metal cuffs off of her. “No use fighting; it’s time to talk, or you will start losing body parts.”
Weakly, she tried to come off strong but in a whispered breath said, “Leave me alone, I’m not going to ta...”
Hamza slapped her face to silence her; Nikole’s head bounced off the metal table, causing her vision to blur once again.
She couldn’t see who was in front of her, but she could tell that something was going on. Seeing two shadows along the wall, moving around as if wrestling, Nikole thought her mind was playing tricks on her. Hearing a noise and odd commotion in the room, she was unsure of who was actually fighting.
Nikole lay there, trying to focus her eyes, but all she
managed to see was a blur of a man moving. The next thing she knew, someone was touching her and getting on top of her. She couldn’t move and didn’t recognize him; the panic rose in Nikole as she thought someone else was going to hurt her.
Nikole’s vision came back into focus as she saw the man free her arms and legs from the metal restraints. He wrapped her in a blanket and lifted her up off the table. Who was this man carrying her? He was unbelievable, his swiftness and precision. Surely he would be able to keep her safe. “Who are you?” she said, right before she passed out.