The Glorious Flame (#2)

Chapter 29

Inferno

      It was all a blur. All the pain and torture. They had found her weakness with ease and exploited it: her back. 

     It was amazing what damage could be done in so little amount of time. She could have swore hours ago she was searching for Rouhem. Now they were both missing. 

     She lain naked, on vile floor, covered in dirt and piss and sweat and other terrible, terrible substances. She had dealt with monsters many times before and she had a feeling she would continue to do so until her clock stopped ticking. 

     Her back was on fire. They had torn into her other wing, causing a pain that turned her wails into silence. This kind of splitting agony couldn't translate into sounds. The mouth did not have the expressive capabilities in which the mind did. 

     The first thing they did was take her clothes. They did what they pleased actually, especially with her flesh. But this was nothing she hadn't experienced a millions times in some shape or form before.  

     And now as she watched the sweat trail down her arm, she was glad they knocked her unconscious for an hour or so, because she was certain there were other acts she could not properly recall, and she didn't want to anyway. 

     Weslyn escaped, but Inferno didn't know where she ran off to. 

     Inferno should have been planning. Doing anything. But she could not physically move, even as her life depened on it. Her sickness had rendered her weak enough, but now she was simply incapable of action. 

     She thought about her family. What a shitty family. They couldn't have been far and here she was, a clan's plaything. 

     Is this what Poppy experienced? Probably. Probably worse. How did Edwin not murder everything living entity from this clan?

     Inferno planned to do that. As soon as she healed from her most likely infected wounds. 

     The cage door banged open but she was too exhausted to be startled. "What is it, Oxyclean?" Her voice was a raspy whisper. 

     The leader snatched her by her locks and yanked her upwards. Her body responded as a rag doll would. Ouch. "It looks like the Pack has caught on. I know they will defeat me. There is no doubt about it. I am not stupid. But I refuse to take it like a bitch. So... it has come to my attention that you are very important to the Pack. Tell me, what should I do next?" 

     "Change your twitter username to Oxyclean, because I am a genius?" Blood dripped down her ripped lip. Her attempt at sarcasm was pathetic. 

     He laughed, slamming his lips against hers, grabbing her bottom lip and biting down until she felt the flesh of her lip tear down the middle. She screamed and coughed at the stinging, at the burning that coursed across her face. "No, not that, dear," he whispered against her teeth, licking at the blood which dripped, "I considered fucking you a couple times before tearing you to pieces, taping it, and sending it to them. Releasing it after they chopped off my head. But one dick isn't enough. I unfortunately don't have time for that. I want the world to have you. You won't ever belong to yourself again. Your pussy is no longer yours, but you will learn that soon enough. I will make sure they know what I have done with their precious gem. Safe travels." He left with another harsh kiss, ripping his nails down her bare chest. Her mouth filled with more of that metallic taste. 

     Her cheek slammed against the hard floor, and she gasped when she both heard and felt a crack in her cheekbone in response to the impact. One of her teeth had to have been hanging on by a thread. She grunted as her face felt burned by a sheet of acid. "Oxyclean is a bomb ass twitter name. I am tardemarking that shit." Her words were low, and definitely not up to the standards of her usual sarcasm. It sounded like she was talking with a mouth full of meat.