Page 139 of Hell Breaks Loose

Because I know what she has planned.

To let my medicine fade. Let the need consume me.

I’m only allowed to put on pants as she orders me ahead of her, downstairs.

Through the kitchen.

Out into the yard.

Across the grounds and into the guest house.

The basement door glows with flickering light, orange and smoky, accented by the roar of voices from below.

Each step down the cellar steps takes me closer to my doom. Not my demise. No. I won’t be killed or tortured.

Not in the traditional sense.

“My children! Who here is prepared to meet their fate?!” The Matron shouts over the din, all eyes turning toward the stairs.

With a shove, she pitches me forward, over the edge of the dugout floor of the foundation. Into the pit below.

Where I’m joined by her ‘volunteers’. Dragging myself to my feet, I subdue the shrieking noise in my head, block out the sickening screams and raucous laughter all around me.

“Whoever survives gets the others’ doses. And my eternal gratitude!”

My focus narrows to a pinpoint. Survive. Do what I must.

The first victim rushes in to their death.

The night drags on. Hours morph into a meaningless flow of sweat and blood, until I’m on my knees in the mud, surrounded by the remnants of my foes. Of my fellow subjects.

I’m empty again.

Not even the need for more medicine can drag me to my feet.

The Herald has retired for the night. She left soon after the fighting started.

Because she doesn’t care about the process.

Just the result.

In the still of the slowly brightening basement, the last few stragglers scurry for darker corners to sleep out the daylight. To wait for orders to rampage through Sanctum Harbor again.

Warm light clips in through one of the thin slats near the ceiling.

The beam makes me wince at first, catching me across the face.

I look up into the light.

Let it sear into my soul. Let it burn away the horrors of the night.

A whisper echoes into the gloom from somewhere above me, one of the more addled members of our kingdom, mumbling in their sleep.

“Come on, Steven please…. Just a little… what do you even care…” The voice fades into whimpers of a nightmare.

Who was Steven?

Steven.

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