Leo rolled in and out of consciousness, but the bliss of unconsciousness would be robbed from him violently when the blade sinking into his flesh found the nerves and receptors so readily available. The message was received in a burning explosion of pain, forcing him to clench his jaw until his teeth creaked under the stress of it.
But he would not scream again. He was hoarse from all that had come previous to this new onslaught. He didn’t worry about whether or not it made him seem weak. No. None of that mattered at the moment. Nothing mattered to Leo outside of one single word. One single objective.
Live.
Live, Alvarez, he demanded of himself for the thousandth time. Although, by now it was obvious that the twisted demon who orchestrated his agony had no intention of killing him.
No.
That would be far too merciful, and this evil thing—the creature that had lashed him down to the coarse cemented floor, his wrists torn to shreds inside the cuffs of heavy metal manacles—was everything opposite of mercy. But these wounds would be healed shortly. As would the newest carving that the beast was drawing into his body. But healing would come only after the thing called Chatha was through lifting Leo’s organs out of his body to present them to him, just before he would begin to dissect them before his prisoner’s very eyes.
This time he reached deep and Leo could feel him fumbling around inside his gut, moving lower, slick fingers having difficulty gaining purchase at first. But eventually Chatha found his kidney and ripped it out of him, giggling as he held it up, prodding at it with a finger, not caring that Leo was quickly dying of blood loss.
Maybe … maybe this time I will die before he can heal me, Leo thought. But he struggled to tamp the hope down, knowing that it was a part of the creature’s tormenting ritual. To make him think he was going to find release. Make him think that, after days of this torture it would finally be over. And he was fading. He was reaching for something … something beyond life. Something waiting for him. Something of infinite, blissful peace.
Then Chatha dropped the kidney, and scrambled up over his body on hands and knees. His face pressed close to Leo’s, filing his darkening vision with that innocent and maniacal visage.
“No, no.” he tsked, wagging a blood-wet finger before Leo’s nose. “No fair!”
>
And that was when tears would burn into Leo’s eyes, hope dashed all to hell as the beast laid hands on him like an Evangelical preacher touched by God, and healed him.
Leo awoke with a savage shout, his body lurching out of bed, forcing him to stumble and fall as his sleeping muscles refused to awaken and do their duty. He fell to the floor, his hands barely reaching out in time to keep him from landing face-first into the luxurious carpetig of his body shook sweat from the tips of his hair, a shower of salt and water spraying everywhere. He was soaked in it, his bare chest slick with wet and his boxers plastered to him in their drenched state.
He tried to slow his breathing, tried to make himself understand that he was awake and, for the moment, safe. This house was the home of his best friend. The friend who had seenng. The jarrin
Forever Page 26
