Page 67 of Devoured
“You brought me here to threaten me,”I stated. “To show me what happens if I disobey again.”
“I brought you here to keep you safe,”he groaned.
“Safe?”I laughed, bitter in the stifling air. “In a place like this? A world of monsters and freaks?”
Crimson light leaked through the helmet’s narrow openings. Even through the metal, I felt his anger radiating like heat from a forge.
“You think you’re different from us?”His voice dropped low, dangerous. “You put on quite a show back there.”
He turned fully toward me, the helmet reflecting the flames of the torches.
“You killed the Mirror Eater with nothing but a wrench. You fought a Sanctified entity and won.”
“She got what she deserved,”I said quietly.
“Ah.”Something shifted in his posture, like he’d heard something important. “And who decided that? Who made you the judge of what Helena deserved?”
I opened my mouth, then closed it. Because the truth was simple and damning—I had decided. In that moment, with the wrench in my hands and Helena writhing beneath me, I had appointed myself her executioner.
“That’s normal. Self-defense. That doesn’t make me like you.”I said matter-of-factly.
The Executioner picked up a small blade from the table, holding it to the light. Seeing the blade, I backed away until my spine hit the bone table. He continued, “Doesn’t it? You enjoyed killing her. I saw it in your posture when I arrived. The satisfaction of a job well done.”
He approached slowly, but when he reached me, he didn’t threaten. Instead, he stood beside me. “Let me see your shoulder.”His voice was calm. “It needs to be treated.”
I turned reluctantly and pulled the sheet down to expose the gauze he’d placed earlier. He peeled it back. The edges of the wound were darkening.
He cleaned the damage Helena had left with surprising gentleness. The blade he used was precise, sharp enough to cut away the ruined tissue without adding to the trauma.
He lifted me easily, his palms spanning from my hips to my lower ribs, and set me down on the table as if I weighed nothing. Then he checked my foot.
“Your foot will heal fine.”He examined the wound carefully. His attention returned to my shoulder. He dabbed at a deep gash. “But this... you’re bleeding internally. She nicked something important.”
I gripped the table edge. “Will I die?”
“Not if I treat it properly.”He kept working, eyes still on the wound.
He worked in silence for several minutes, cleaning, stitching and bandaging with the same careful precision he probably used to hurt people.
I finally broke the silence. “Why?”
“Why what?”He didn’t look up from his work.
I watched his hands move. “Why do you care if I live or die? You could find another broken woman to play with. Someone who wouldn’t question you or fight back.”
“I could.”He wrapped gauze around my shoulder. “But I don’t want another woman. I want you.”
“Why me?”I pressed.
He paused, helmet tilted toward his hands. The red glow in his eye slits dimmed slightly, like he was looking at something only he could see.
“We’re connected somehow. Even I don’t understand it fully.”His words came slowly. “But you called for me once.”
My eyes widened. “What?”
“Years ago. A child’s voice begging to be taken. Normally I can’t hear such things... I exist here, in this realm. But that night, something pulled me. Transported me.”He sounded almost confused. “I found myself looking at a little girl. You.”
My breath caught in my throat. “I dreamed of you when I was twelve, didn’t I?”
