Shadow of the Crown by Moncrieff J.E

Shadow of the Crown by Moncrieff J.E

Author:Moncrieff, J.E. [Moncrieff, J.E.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Estuary View Publishing
Published: 2022-01-05T00:00:00+00:00


“Well?” was the first word Edward heard through the haze of sleep.

“Well what?” another voice replied, not far from the door to his room.

“The old man. How is he?”

“We’ve made an awful mess in every colour up there but he still hasn’t said a word.”

“The boss won’t be happy,” the first voice sighed. “You better get it done and clear it up quickly.”

“He won’t last long. They are still on him but it is getting to the stage where he will cough up or die, be it through blood loss or pain.”

Edward squeezed his eyes shut to keep the fear from emerging loudly.

“How is the other one?”

“Out like a light,” the second voice said.

“Well wake him up and get started. You might need to get really nasty on him; we are running out of time.”

“Will do. Are you coming in?”

“No, I need to head upstairs to the others and see if I can get anything out of him myself. Enjoy yourself.”

The two men chuckled as the door opened and light finally fell into Edward’s eyes for the first time since it was shut out.

He closed them and pretended to wake slowly from his slumber as the footsteps approached him and the unmasked man looked down and grinned through his thick beard.

“Ready to play, boy?” he said.

“No,” Edward replied, shaking his head. “I really am not.”

“Well that’s a shame,” the torturer replied, shrugging his shoulders and stepping over to his table. “Might as well get comfortable,” he said, removing his shirt and placing a set of keys on the table before surveying his weaponry. “It is going to get hot in here. Probably around your arse-hole as promised.” He walked around the room, lighting wall torches and whistling to himself. “What do you want first?” he called over his shoulder. “Blades, clamps, wire, rats? What about if I remove your nipples and fry them for you? That will hurt won’t it?” Edward struggled to hold the contents of his stomach. “Yes,” the man said, spotting his expression, “It will do nicely. The only limit is imagination, you know. Help me out if you have any ideas. I will try anything.”

“You haven’t even told me what you want yet,” Edward said, though he barely recognised his own voice.

“Oh she does want to chat!” the man exclaimed, holding up a knife. “Lovely. Well, I don’t need to know anything yet. Not until I have at least made a bit of mess.”

Edward groaned, closing his eyes and then opening them again as the door burst open and another guard ran into the room.

“Boss wants everyone upstairs,” he said. “The old man spilled his guts.”

“Has he babbled or has he actually spilled them because I’ve seen enough of his...”

“Both,” the new guard grinned. “He will probably be dead if we don’t hurry but he is talking.”

“Let me get my shirt.”

“No time, let’s go.”

The stocky, bare-chested guard nodded and cackled towards Edward before running from the room and slamming the door.

“What got him?” Edward heard him shout in excitement before the voices faded to distant muffles.



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