Page 39 of Deadmen's Captive

The two men approached, both removing their masks and I froze. Tristan stood there, his cheeky smile nowhere to be seen, his face serious. He didn't meet my eyes, and I felt a surge of fury at him. He knew. He'd been setting me up for this the whole time. Was he the one sending me black roses and red envelopes with creepy notes too? Pain filled me as I realised none of it had been real, and tears threatened to spill down my face. I blinked them away, determined not to show him how much he'd hurt me.

Next to him stood Nate, his face impassive as he stepped forward, his eyes scanning me analytically from head to toe. He didn't flinch under my scrutiny. His emotionless gaze chilled me more than the cold marble beneath my feet.

"Persephone, meet Nate and Tristan, my DeathKnights. They will ensure your compliance and well-being during your time here, and you are to serve them as you would serve me.”

Serve them? What the hell was he talking about? This all felt so surreal, like some kind of nightmare. Maybe I was dreaming, and it was the effect of the alcohol. That would explain why the world was spinning and why his voice, soothing in its rhythm, was the only grounding thing keeping me from getting lost in the sea of blurred faces. I couldn't tear my eyes away from him.

Hades moved with a deadly grace, a panther in human form. He prowled around me, studying me with an intensity that unnerved me greatly. He raised his hand, a simple gesture from him causing immediate silence.

"Persephone," he began. "You will soon learn that there are three forms of corruption we all endure in our lives." His voice echoed off the stone walls of the hall. "Physical corruption, mental corruption, and emotional corruption."

My heart pounded against my rib cage as I strained against my restraints.

"Tonight," he continued, dragging out his words for effect. "We begin with your physical corruption."

A gasp echoed around the room followed by the sickening sound of laughter.

"No!" I cried out, but my plea was muffled by the gag.

"Let us begin," Hades commanded, stepping back. Tristan and Nate moved forward, slipping their hands under my arms and lifting me to my feet. I considered trying to pull free and run for it, but as soon as my weight rested on my own legs, they crumpled under me. The men’s hands caught me, supporting me as they guided me towards the thrones. Other Reapers moved in front of us, pulling the thrones to the side, and I gasped, trying to yank myself away from my captors as I saw the black marble clad wall ahead of us, it’s flawless surface only marred by the metal and leather restraints fixed into it.

"Welcome to your trials," Hades said, his voice dropping to a tone that sent shivers down my spine. Something snapped inside me, the fear that had tried to get me to run had accepted that there was no way I was escaping this hellhole and instead had left me numb inside. The watchers were silent now, anticipation hanging heavy in the air as I was led towards my fate. The wall was solid, made of the same black marble that dominated the rest of the hall. My heart pounded in fear as they positioned me against it, and terror welled within me as Tristan and Nate worked to unbind my wrists and then to secure me to the wall.

"Easy," Nate murmured softly as I tried to pull my freed hands away from his large grip.

"Please," I tried to say, but the gag turned my plea into a muffled whimper. He didn't listen, or maybe he couldn't hear me over the cacophony of the hall.

"I'm so sorry, Paige," Tristan added gruffly, taking my other arm. His grip was steel, brooking no argument, no plea.

My wrists were pulled up over my head, my legs pulled apart by the shackles on my ankles, and tears fell unseen beneath my mask as I cried for them to stop.

Hades moved forward, tipping my head up, his dark eyes fixed on mine. "Remember your place here, Paige," he said, his voice low and threatening. "As Persephone, you belong to us now. You are here to do our bidding. This is just the first trial."

He moved away and Tristan leaned in closer to me, his lips brushing over my ear. “Just go with it, sunshine. It won’t take too long and you might even enjoy it.”

I tried to take a deep breath. There wasn’t much I could do about my predicament now, and panicking was not going to help matters. These societies, they were all pomp and circumstance, I was sure of it. This was some horrible rich boy prank and when I was out of here, I was going straight to the fucking police to out them all. I didn’t care who their families were, no one should be able to get away with doing this to people.

Hades stood in front of me, facing the watchful crowd. "Persephone is among us. The season of the Deadmen's Club is now open!" he declared, his tone a dark melody of power and command.

A chill coursed through me, my name on his lips like a death knell. The Reapers erupted into cheers, their excitement a cacophony that twisted my stomach. I am Persephone. Their Persephone. Fear clawed at my insides, insistent and sharp.

"Look at me," Nate said softly, as Hades continued to address the crowd. It wasn't a question. It was a demand.

I lifted my gaze, meeting his. There was something like an apology there, a fleeting moment of humanity amidst the darkness. But it vanished as quickly as it appeared, snuffed out by the grim resolve settling over his features.

"Be strong," he whispered, almost imperceptible over the din of the crowd.

Then he stepped back, leaving me alone and exposed in my binds. The noise of the crowd seemed to fade as I locked eyes with Hades. He wore a look of satisfaction that made my blood run cold. Power hummed around him, dark and intoxicating, pulling me in despite the fear crawling up my spine.

"The first trial begins," he announced, his voice thundering off the marble walls. The audience watched in anticipation, their faces hidden behind their masks. Tristan and Nate moved to each side of me, their faces impassive like carved statues, and Hades turned from the crowd, walking towards me. Fear surged through me, but there was something else there, excitement maybe, or anticipation.

"Look at her," Tristan murmured as Hades drew nearer. "Our Persephone, ripe for the underworld. For us."

Memories suddenly flooded back into my mind — the warnings from Kate about girls vanishing without a trace. My breath hitched. Was I one of them? One of the girls who would disappear without a trace? Were they going to kill me?

"Scared, Persephone?" Hades's voice cut through the din, closer now.

I nodded, my eyes fixed on his, unable to look away as he drew close, like a predator closing in on his prey.

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