Clutches of Deceit by Meyer J. W

Author:Meyer, J. W.
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Immutable Publishing
Published: 2023-04-28T00:00:00+00:00

13

STRIKING REALITIES

Neshlashan looked down at his mangled limbs with revulsion. He had been dealing with endless levels of agonizing torture for longer than his mind could conceive. At this point, he was nearly beyond the riveting depression that had connected him to the permanence of his horrifying mutilation. No amount of healing magic would ever repair what she had done.

For days now, Reskella had returned every hour. Along with her wicked smile, she’d brought the hammer and fat metal rod she used to smash his joints. One at a time, on the hour, three knuckles per finger, it had taken more than a day to destroy his hands alone. The ping of the hammer striking that rod continued to ring in his ears. Split open and broken, his twisted fingers were crushed and useless, hanging next to the flayed skin that had once covered them. It was all exposed, sickening shades of red and rotting green mixed with the white bone and yellowed fat that had squished out of his palms.

His feet had been next. Toes went in the same manner as his fingers, smashed with gruesome precision. Then she’d pounded his feet and heels with a larger ingot. They were purple and bloated, swelling seeped with stinking puss. And alive, the annihilated flesh was swarming with parasitic beetles Reskella had viciously introduced into the nauseating display.

Next came his ankles, his wrists, and the bones leading up to the elbows and knees. She laughed with vile wretchedness every time she returned. Never saying a word, Reskella ignored his pleas, just set the ingot in place and slammed it with the hammer. Ping. Ping. The haunting sound was burned into his brain. There was only one thing she wanted to hear from him, only one thing that would get her to stop.

It was evident she had done this all before. She had prepared for every eventuality. Neshlashan was crowned with a magical circlet that prevented him from succumbing to the pain or passing out. The hemorrhaging and excessive blood loss was stemmed through cauterization with hot irons. She even used an assortment of precisely dosed potions to temper the fever, restrict the blood poisoning, and withhold the gangrenous decay. Simply dying would have been far too easy. Instead, she guaranteed he was doomed to endure the horrendous crucible or reveal what he knew. Neshlashan understood his death was imminent, but the extent of time and rigor involved was left up to him.

The day before had seen him through the decimation of his upper arms and knees. Upon finishing this stage of her wicked routine, Reskella had finally spoken, going into a lengthy explanation of what would happen next, starting with the amputation of his limbs, which would soon become complicated drawbacks to keeping him alive. What she planned to do was diabolical, and she generously gave him four hours to contemplate his demise.

He knew she would soon return. What does it matter? I’m completely broken, as good as dead. There will be no recompense.

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