Page 49 of Devoured
A hand emerged first from the boiling blood—massive, scarred, and bare. It gripped the edge of the broken stone and pulled. An arm followed, thick with muscle that moved like steel cables under skin. Then broad shoulders, a chest carved from granite and crisscrossed with old wounds.
The Executioner rose from the blood-filled circle like something being born from the earth itself. Blood ran down his bare torso, following the contours of his chest, dripping from leather pants that clung to his legs. His other hand dragged his blade up with him—that massive thing that looked too heavy for any normal man to lift. His boots struck stone as he fully emerged, each step making the chamber vibrate. That iron helmet gleamed in the torchlight, the red slits already scanning the room.
Marion whimpered beside me. Even some of the cultists stepped back respectfully.
“Finally,”Varnar breathed. “He comes to collect, as always. But tonight is special. Tonight we offer not just a sacrifice, but a betrayer. One who walked among us, almost learned our secrets, and tried to deny the Judge his due.”
The Executioner moved toward the altar where Sela lay bound. The blade dragged behind him, carving grooves into the ancient stone. He reached the altar and stood over Sela, raising that massive blade high above his head.
Sela’s eyes were open, aware—watching death itself prepare to claim her.
I couldn’t let this happen. Not to Sela. Not to someone who’d tried to help us.
I broke free from the hands holding me and threw myself forward. Time seemed to slow as I ran, my bare feet slapping against blood-slick stone. The Executioner’s blade had already begun its descent, that terrible arc that would split Sela in half.
I dove between them, my body slamming into the altar, on top of Sela. The blade stopped inches from my back, close enough that I felt the wind of its passage.
Everything stopped.
The chanting cut off mid-word. The bubbling blood went silent. Even the torches seemed to freeze mid-flicker.
The Executioner stood perfectly still, blade suspended in the air. Those infernal slits burned down at me where I lay sprawled across Sela’s body, shielding her with my own.
“What are you doing?”Varnar’s voice cracked with disbelief. “Move! You’re interfering with the ritual!”
I pushed myself up, turning to face the Executioner. My whole body shook, but I spread my arms wide, keeping myself between him and Sela.
“No,”I yelled. “She doesn’t deserve this. She tried to save us. Take me instead.”
The Executioner tilted his head—just slightly. The blade didn’t move up or down. It just hung there in perfect suspension. I could feel his attention like physical weight, as if his hellish eyes could see through my flesh to something deeper.
“MOVE!”Varnar roared. “He serves the Judge! He must complete the execution!”
But the Executioner didn’t move. Seconds stretched into eternity. The blade began to lower—not to strike, but to rest at his side.
“No,”Varnar shouted. “No, this isn’t possible. You cannot refuse! The contract—the centuries of service—”
The Executioner turned towards Varnar. His posture had shifted. The mechanical purpose of a servant had given way to choice.
“You broke the rules!”Dr. Alan screamed. “The sacrifice must be completed! The Judge must be fed!”
Varnar crossed the chamber in two strides and grabbed Marion by the throat, lifting her off her feet. His other hand found the wounds on her ribs, pressing cruelly into the cuts he’d made earlier.
“Let him complete the ritual,”he snarled at me, “or I break her neck.”
Marion’s wails of agony pierced straight through my soul.
Blood ran between Varnar’s fingers where he dug into her ribs. Marion’s face went gray. Her eyes rolled back, then focused on me with desperate clarity. She tried to speak but only managed a wet, choking sound. The noise she made wasn’t human anymore.
Seeing her so helpless and in pain... my mind went white.
And then I screamed.
It wasn’t a normal scream. Something ripped from years of swallowed rage. The sound shook the chamber’s foundations. Walls cracked. Dust rained down. The blood pools bubbled and hissed.
Varner dropped Marion, clutching his ears. She hit the ground gasping. Several cultists fell to their knees, blood running from their noses.
When my scream ended, I was on my knees, and my throat was raw.
