Page 37 of Guided by the Stars
The blade is cold as it grazes my skin while she cuts through my shirt. Once my back is bare, she puts the knife away and dumps the contents of the bowl on my spine. The cold hits me at once and, though I may be used to the chill of the Underworld, I’m not prepared for this. So cold that it burns, the icy blaze curls over me and sucks the air from my lungs.
The frosty inferno spreads as she moves the mixture over my body. She crouches down beside me, leans in, and inhales. I try to move away, but the vines are too tight. “I missed you, darling.” Her breath is hot on my cheek, and she tilts her head, running the tip of her tongue along my jaw and getting too fucking close to my mouth.
“You disgust me,” I bite out, though I don’t know why I bother. She lives for this shit. The cold on my back is subsiding, and my hope rises. Maybe this is a bad batch, and soon I’ll be free of this torment. But as the mixture soaks into my skin, I realize I was wrong. This won’t be quick. It’s no longer a cold heat, but a searing one. It’s as if someone placed burning coals on me, roasting my flesh to a crisp. I can feel blisters forming and breaking in the same moment.
I try so fucking hard to keep quiet. The noises are what she wants, what he wants, and a low groan escapes despite my best efforts.
She laughs and comes closer, taking my earlobe between her teeth and tugging. “I do so enjoy it when you’re naughty,” she whispers, her tongue darting out to lick inside my ear.
I hear footsteps once again and the telltale clatter of my least favorite tool. The whip.
Hephaestus, the God of Blacksmiths, forged this himself upon Hades’ request. Several chains hang from the handle, each one made from serrated metal links. Thanks to the ointment Persephone puts on me, my back never quite heals, so I’m covered in scars.
“I’m finished, Hades, baby. Perhaps he will learn something this time,” she gloats.
He grunts in response as he moves closer to me and rests the whip on the table to stretch his arms and shoulders. A chair scrapes across the floor, which I expect is the bitch getting settled to watch the show.
“You will get ten strikes for failing, with additional lashings for each moment you waste not explaining how a pathetic human girl bested you,” he sneers, fury blazing through his eyes.
He tilts the table on one end, the vines tightening on my limbs to keep me upright as he swings the whip in the air a few times. Excited clapping starts up to my left, and I know the bitch is creaming her pants with excitement. Fucking psycho.
Without warning, pain ricochets through my body as the first lash of the whip hits. The concoction smeared on my back intensifies the pain and each link slices through me like butter.
I bite my tongue to hold back the moans of agony as he continues to swing the whip, and warm blood runs down my back in rivulets. The ointment and blood mix, making fire ignite once again. More blisters form within the wounds, and my flesh bubbles like an active volcano.
Even if I wanted to explain what happened, there’s no way I could. The pain immobilizes my every limb, caging my words inside. Blood fills my mouth with a copper tang while Hades counts out the first ten lashes. My chest is heaving by the time he finishes, limbs trembling with pain. I open my eyes, trying to focus when Hades steps in front of me. His mouth moves, but I can’t concentrate enough to understand. My focus sticks on the constant dripping of my blood from the whip.
He reaches up and grabs my face, leaning in close. “Explain yourself!” he shouts, spit flying from his lips and onto my cheeks.
“I’m…there was…” I stammer, trying to find the right words and the strength to speak them. My throat is thick with blood and spit, but it doesn’t matter how much I swallow, the lump won’t go away.
“It would appear you haven’t learned your lesson yet. Lets see if a few more hits will knock the words free,” he says, right before pain lances through my body again and I gasp.
With each blow, he shouts at me. “Such a disappointment.”Crack. “Waste of oxygen.”Crack. “Unreliable piece of filth.”Crack.
“Alexius…took…the other one,” I spit out, desperate to end my suffering. My chest heaves with each lungful of air, but it’s not enough. The room spins around me, white spots dancing in front of me, and I blink to clear them. My body aches, sweat and blood coat my skin, and I prepare for the onslaught to continue, but it doesn’t.
The chair to my left screeches across the floor, followed by the swish of Persephone’s dress as she rushes to Hades behind me. A hand trails across the open cuts on my back, right before she digs her nails into the broken flesh. A guttural groan leaves my lips, my vision narrowing with pain.
“I expect obedience,” Hades snarls and places the table back down.
Their whispers have grown more frantic now, and I can’t make sense of the words. I try to pay attention, knowing this is a rare chance to overhear vital information that I could use to my advantage, but the only sound I hear is rushing water and the frantic thumping of my heart.
Darkness creeps in until oblivion takes over, and all I’m left with is silence.
Nora
When Constellations Create
I slam the door, locking myself away and let the torment of my memories flood me without mercy. Grief rips apart my heart and guilt weighs me down as I collapse to the floor, tugging my knees towards my chest. “Please,” I whisper, surrendering myself to the terror the darkness reminds me of.
I know Alexius is right. Bill described the Underworld more than enough. It’s the home of the dead, surrounded by sorrow and darkness. Once it pulls you under, there is no escaping it. Deep down, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if Alexius faced that type of evil because I asked him to. But what else can I do? I cannot lose Adriane, I refuse to. She’s my new family and the last person I have that ties me to my past.
I promise you, Sunshine, everything will be okay.
His voice echoes in my head and I squeeze my eyes shut, the ache cracking open the door I’ve kept locked away to avoid the past. Every detail of my mother’s porcelain face, the deep rumble of my dad’s laugh, and my brother’s soft hazel eyespromising me we would survive. Every moment we’ve ever had rushes through my mind, and my painful sobs increase to screams of despair.
Hands reach for me, pulling me towards a strong chest, and even through my aching tears and running nose, I can smell Alexius. He cradles me, placing his head on top of mine, whispering, “I got you.” His embrace brings another wave of sobs and, without shame, I snuggle closer, clenching my fists into his cotton shirt, letting it soak up my tears.
