Death Gate: Resurrected by Blaire Harding

Author:Blaire Harding [Harding, Blaire]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2023-09-09T04:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Getting into this place was one thing, but getting out was a whole other story. Somehow the temple of temptations continued expanding in every direction, there were so many branches it was an absolute miracle we found eachother.

The good news was there was food everywhere we looked, but the bad news was we couldn’t eat or drink a drop of anything and the further we delved in this obscene temple, the more extreme the depravities became.

I was sure everyone started with what they wanted, but were slowly fed more extremities bit by bit, piece by piece until they were handed the rope and willingly stepped off the edge. And the longer we explored the more suspicious they became of us. They tried feeding us and pleasuring us and glared at us when we didn’t accept their titillations.

Hours and hours passed as the depravity soared miles beyond what we thought was possible. It was painful to watch and the feelings of lost hopelessness consumed us. Were we going to starve in this temple of depravity, or would we once again fall to our carnal desires?

After what felt like the 12th hour, we were walking in a pool of blood as the cries and agony emulsified.

And the longer we walked, the more the courtesans began to act like white blood cells detecting foreign bacteria. This was going to get ugly sooner than later, and we were weakened from traveling hours without a meal or rest.

That’s when the most perfect being I had ever seen locked eyes with us, not torturing anyone, but floating cross-legged. She stared at us as if reading our souls and once satisfied, raised a finger and—

Poof

She was a cat, running across the open pavilion of doom. As she came closer I realized she wasn’t even running at all, but floating a couple inches off the floor.

“Follow me if you want to live,” she said, in a harmonic humanoid voice, but it didn’t come from her vocal chords, it rung in our brains clear as a bell.

“Begone, vile witch,” Kairos called between exhausted heaves, “your services will not be necessary.”

“And what makes you think I am one of them?”

“Pay no attention to it and it will go away,” he said.

It took me a second, but my exhausted brain realized something. This wasn’t how Kairos talked before we entered this place. Then I realized I had lost close to a quarter of my memories from my old life, like my memories still held the same shape, but I got nothing from them.

“We have no time for trickery or games or spellcraft,” Kairos said.

“You feel it — don’t you witch.”

“Don’t talk to her.”

“I can feel it.” I was enamored with the thing. My parents never let me have cats, but as Pascha I distinctly remembered always having cats. And every moment I thought about it, the further the gulf between me and my previous self expanded. It was like I was cast away, the island of my former self drifting.

Pascha couldn’t be any more different than me.

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