Page 71 of Depravity

But their mother, looking at her, at her skull. Was she happy? Was she a good parent, a loving one? Did she and her husband actually want to marry, or was she forced into it too? Is that why her son is the way he is? Did he learn that from his father, did he witness that firsthand?

I narrow my eyes, wondering what brutality that woman lived through, because at the end of the day she was a Brethren Lady, and that means only one thing, doesn’t it?

“One day, we too will be up there. Side by side. Immortalised, just like my ancestors,” He states.

My face must show my horror. My face must show exactly what I’m thinking.

He grabs my chin, raising it so I have to look at him full on. “Do you understand what I’m giving you, what you now have? We are Gods here, you and I. And we can sit here, on our thrones, and rule this place like royalty.”

Royalty? I don’t want to be a royal, I don’t want to ever step foot here again. My eyes cast about, over his shoulder, at all those awful skulls that are leering back at me. Is this how Persephone felt? Is this what she saw? At least she loved Hades,I don’t even have that. No, her story would be far less romantic if there wasn’t a happy ending to it.

“What are you thinking?” Conrad asks.

I shake my head, too fearful to articulate any of it.

Clearly, that pisses him off because he suddenly loses all interest in this ‘show and tell’ thing and drags me on, moving through the hall as if it no longer represents a mausoleum for his ancestors.

Sex.

All around us.

That’s all I can hear.

Moaning, groaning and fucking.

The sound of bodies heaving and flesh slapping against flesh.

And the weeping, the crying – I hear that too. I hear as it rings out, as it echoes through this cursed place, as it sings like a melody of horror and depravity.

I want to cover my ears, to cover my eyes too. Only, I can’t. I’m still forced to crawl beside my husband like a damned pet.

My hands slip and slide as the floor goes from the clean washed surface to one of grime, sweat and something infinitely worse.

As we reach another great hall I hold my breath, wondering if this is where Conrad intends to ‘play’.

A man strides up to him and Conrad narrows his eyes, clearly pissed at being disturbed.

“You brother…” The man continues, and my husband curses before dropping the leash.

“You even think of moving.” He threatens me before walking off to the side where they start conversing quickly, as if something awful has happened.

I sit back, rubbing my palms, trying to massage the pain out of them.

In front of me, six women are brought in, all chained to one another. They keep their heads low, and beyond the iron they’re completely naked. I stare in horror as they walk on like robots until they disappear beyond my view.

It feels like there’s some sort of party, everywhere I look people are fucking. Some seem willing enough, others are definitely not.

One girl in a red mask is clearly putting up a fight. She starts screaming, lashing out and then she tries to run. A man grabs at her, and she goes sliding.

I don’t know what makes me do it, what stupid thought gets into my head but I spring up, trying to catch her before she smashes her skull on a wooden bench.

As she recoils from my touch, I get a glimpse of her face and that scar on her lip, I know that scar.

“Clara?” I hiss.

She freezes, staring at me. There’s a strand of her auburn hair now loose from the plait. I know it’s her. I know it.

“Clara,” I repeat again.

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