Page 22 of Chaos Unleashed

As we continue forward, I ask, “Would any of the other gods help?”

Grey shrugs, “It’s unlikely. They all have their own things going on, and the few that I could ask are dealing with big things right now.”

“Was it a god that put the silencing spell on you?” Mayhem suddenly asks.

Grey seems shocked by the question but nods once.

“So, we won’t be asking them to help then,” Loki mutters.

“It’s complicated,” Grey replies.

Farren

Blood is once again pooling around my feet, adding another layer to the pool that had dried from my previous torture sessions. Hiromu has come back twice in a row, and as sick and twisted as it is, I am actually grateful for the reprieve from the illusions and welcome the pain of being sliced.

Xerxes is still here; at least, I think he is. My mind has been trying to protect itself from the horrifying things that Hiromu has made me see, and as soon as he leaves, I pass out. This time I was woken up by Dagon greeting me overly happily as he jumped immediately into torturing me. I’ve managed to get myself sort of near the middle of the room so that I don’t get blood in my corner or on Xerxes, who should be hiding there still in his tiny form.

I’m aware that every now and then, the pain becomes less intense as he shouts a question at me, but I’ve gone so far into the dark that I don’t even hear the questions he asks; I just wait to ride it out so that I can crawl back into my corner.

I need to heal, I need to try and make a plan of how to get the fuck out of here, I need to get the key fragment, but Hiromu’s torture has really fucked with my head, literally.

“Farren?” Xerxes' voice pulls me out of my thoughts, and I glance toward the bars of my cell to see that I’ve once again been left alone. I didn’t even realise that he’d gone. That can’t be good.

“Hey,” I reply, my voice cracking.

“I wish I could help,” he replies, sounding desperate.

I sigh as I pull myself up to sit and turn to face him properly. I’m aware that I must look like a horror show. A tray by the door catches my attention, and I force myself to stand to grab it; they give me enough water to keep me alive and a small hunk of rock-hard bread, again just enough to make sure that I don’t die.

“I’m sorry that you have to witness this,” I say as I try to eat, “if you can leave, please do; I won't be offended at all.”

“I’m not leaving you,” he replies indignantly like me suggesting it has really offended him.

“Thanks,” I reply. “I need to get out of here.”

“You can’t go anywhere in the condition that you’re in,” Xerexes points out.

Drinking the water, I reply, “I know I need longer between torture sessions to heal properly or even enough to give me a fighting chance, and I don’t think that they’re going to give me that.”

“No,” Xerxes agrees, “wait, I might be able to help to heal you. It won't be a lot, but I can at least take the edge off.”

I perk up as my eyebrows rise, “You can do that?”

“I should be able to, but it won’t make a massive difference,” he replies.

“Even slight relief would help right now,” I reply, “I can then try to get some actual sleep instead of trauma induced sleep that doesn’t actually allow me to heal, and I might actually be able to think of a way to get out of this mess.”

I don’t tell him that I really want to go back to sleep in the hopes that I get to see H again because he just makes me feel better and not like I’m in a crazy, impossible situation that I’m unlikely to escape.

“Alright, place your hand on my cover, and don’t let your magic fight mine,” Xerexes says.

“It won't. I don’t have any access to it, apart from a trickle of healing magic.”

“Of course,” Xerexes replies, “ready?”

“Yep,” I reply.

His cover warms underneath my hand, and I feel the warmth spread throughout my body; his magic heals some of my minor cuts, or those that are nearly healed anyway, and takes a small amount of the pain away from the other ones, although it doesn’t heal them I am incredibly grateful.

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