Chapter 5

I didn't know how much time had passed, how long I had been kept in that room for.

Hours slipped by, with no way to know whether it was night or day. There were no windows in this room either, and I was never allowed out of it. I was brought food twice a day by Iason, who spent the days with me in the room, in total silence. He hadn't spoken a word to me since that first day.

My father however, hadn't visited again. I was aware that it was but a temporary reprieve, but one for which I was grateful nevertheless.

I didn't know how long it took for Lizzy to die. I had lost track of time in that room.

It had seemed like forever.

I had been obliged to sit in that room for hours on end, listening to her uninterrupted screams and moans.

After a while however, they stopped, and a welcome silence finally fell over the room.

At first I was fearful that it was just a momentary abatement, but the cries never started again. It had been quite a while now, a couple of days, I estimated. At least, I had slept twice. I was starting to believe that she was finally dead, and at peace.

There was nothing for me to do in that little room, nothing to distract my mind from everything that had happened. All I could do was sit, and relive every scream, every horror that my friends had been through, and try to think of a way to avenge them. I still hadn't found one.

Then one day, as Iason came back into the room with my food, he spoke to me.

I was taken aback, the sound surprising me. It had been so long since I had heard another human voice.

"Eat. Your father wishes to speak to you once you are done." Though his voice was not rough, his words chilled me to the spine. I had known of course that this day would come, but the more time had passed, the more I had hoped that my father had come to his senses.

Given the tone in which Iason said the words however, I could not imagine that this was he case. Funny thing though, why should Iason be tense? I had gathered that he didn't like torture, but still. He worked for my father, didn't he? He called him Lord as well, he had to adhere to what he was doing here, even if it offended his... sensibility.

I ate as much as I could. I figured that I didn't know when I would be allowed to eat again, so I might as well leave on a full stomach.

Once I was done, I stood up and handed my plate to Iason as usual, but instead of taking it out of the room, he set it down on the floor. "That can wait. I must take you to your father, now."

I started walking towards the door, but he put his hand up to stop me.

"I need to put this on you first." He said, holding up a blindfold. I backed away, my eyes wide with fresh panic. I hated being blinded. It was a fear I had had ever since I was a little girl and the older kids had blindfolded me as a joke. They had then tied me to a tree and left me there. I had spent hours with that piece of cloth over my eyes, jumping at every sound, unable to move. I had felt so helpless, so vulnerable, that every sound felt like a threat, terrifying me, chilling me to the very core of my being.

That was a fear I still felt to this very day, whenever something covered my eyes.

"Please don't make me wear that." I said. "I'll close my eyes. I won't look. I promise!" As soon as the words passed my lips, I was struck by how ridiculous I sounded, promising not to peek. I must have sounded like a child. In that moment, I despised myself. I wasn't a child anymore, and I was undoubtedly just a few moments from my death. It was time for me to get over this childish fear, and face death my head held tall.

"Wait! Just give me a few seconds, please." I said.

He paused, lowering the blindfold. "A few seconds," he said, "but no more. We can't keep your father waiting."

I nodded, and took a deep breath.

I didn't want my last moments to be spent panicking because of a blindfold, when my friends had died such horrific deaths because of me.

No.

I would be brave, and go to my death standing proudly. I would honor my friends in this way, since I had failed in avenging them.

"I'm ready."

Iason came towards me, and fastened the blindfold around my eyes. A familiar panic came over me once it was on and my view was obscured. My breathing came faster, and my heart was racing.

I closed my eyes, though I didn't really need to, and forced myself to calm down. It took a few moments, but I succeeded in slowing my heart rate down.

Iason took me by the arm, guiding me to where my father was waiting for me. Would he kill me right away, or have me tortured first? I knew the answer as soon as the question had formed in my head.

He would torture me. I seemed to have done something unpardonable for him, and he was not one to forgive. I had seen first hand what he was capable of, and there was no reason to suppose he would act differently to me just because I was his daughter.

Iason led me down several corridors, turning corners, opening several doors and leading me through them.

Where had all these doors been when I had tried to escape? I wondered vaguely.

Finally he stopped me, and I heard my father's voice: "Take the blindfold off, Iason, and wait outside the door."

"Yes, my Lord." he said with a bow, after having taken the blindfold off. He turned and left, shutting the door behind him.

I looked around the room where I was, trying not to look at my father. I was in a different room than the first I had been in. This one looked more like an office, with a desk and chair, in which my father was sitting. This room had no windows either though, and I figured therefore that we must still be underground.

D****t. I longed to see the sun one last time, and feel fresh air on my skin. But I guess it wasn't going to happen.

Well, maybe there is life after death, and I'll be able to enjoy fresh air once I'm dead. I smiled at the thought, wondering at the fact that I was almost longing for the release of death.

"What are you smiling about, Angel? What is there left for you to smile about?" My father asked, his voice sweet and honey like, but I knew that there was danger in it. He was angry; I was smiling despite everything, and it was making his blood boil.

"Nothing, Father. There is nothing left for me to smile about. You have successfully taken everything from me." I said, my tone cold and calm. I was now at peace with death.

"Well, Angel. Have a seat, we need to talk." He said, gesturing towards a chair in front of his desk that I hadn't paid attention to.

I walked towards it, and sat down, all the while looking him defiantly in the eyes.

"We never really finished the conversation about why you stabbed me in the back, did we Angel? I realize that this was mostly my fault, as I walked away. But you see, it is a subject so very painful to me, that my emotions got the better of me. I shall not let that happen this time however, and we shall get to the bottom of the affair. I have had a couple of months since our last meeting in which to calm down, and believe that I am master enough of myself now to listen to the end. Now, tell me Angel, how much do you know about what you have done?"

His words took me by surprise. A couple of months? Had I really been here that long?

"I am waiting for a reply, Angel" My father's sharp words brought me back to the present situation.

I looked at him, trying to decide on the best strategy. Should I tell him everything, or should I try to tell him what he wants to hear, and hope to appease him? I looked into his cold, dead eyes, not seeing any sign of emotion. There was no way he would soften. I resolved to tell him the truth, all of it, and even started hoping that it would anger him. I had no way to hurt him physically, but I could try to piss him off.

"I know that I've kept you from killing an innocent man. I know that because of me you were forced to go into hiding, because the police were looking for you. I know that even before that, what you were doing was illegal. I don't know your business exactly, but I know enough to guess that you're some kind of mob boss, with little servants who consider you their lord. I also know that you're too much of a coward to do any of the actual work yourself, which is why you have all of your little lackeys doing everything for you. Will you even kill me yourself? Your own daughter? Or will you have someone else do it for you?" My voice had been rising, anger flaring up inside me.

My father was looking at me, only the faintest hint of color in his cheeks betraying any emotion at all.

"Well, this is interesting. You think you know a lot about me, but it turns out that you really do know nothing. I had suspected as much after our last interview, but I had to make sure. I guess there's nothing to worry about after all. Not from you at any rate. So what shall I do with you? I can't let you go, that is quite out of the question. No. Even if you do know nothing about the Scheme, you might want - revenge for you little friends. That won't do, will it? We can't take the chance that you will find something out. No. You have to stay here. And you have to be punished as well. I see that your motives for betraying me were not what I had thought, but you betrayed me none the less. The punishment for betrayal is usually death. But as you are my daughter, and your treason not as severe as I had thought, I will spare it."

I looked at him, shocked. He wasn't going to kill me? Then what? Somehow, given the look he was giving me, I felt that death would have been preferable, and despite his words, I felt no relief.

"No, you will not be put to death. You will, however, be kept here until you can do no more harm to the Scheme. In addition to this, you will have your hands cut off. It is the usual punishment for thieves, and you have taken something very valuable from me Angel."

I froze at his words. Have my hands cut off? I just stared at him, my mouth hanging open, numb with shock. I felt nothing, no fear, no relief, no anger, nothing.

He signaled to someone standing close to the door, whom I had not noticed before. He came towards me, took me by the arm, and without a word he put the blindfold back on, took me by the arm and led me out of the room.

I hardly had the time to wonder where we were going before he stopped me, and took the blindfold off again.

My eyes quickly adjusted, and I realized that I was back in that first room again. Back where it all began. I noticed that the blood from my friends was still in a pool on the floor. It had had time to dry there. They hadn't even bothered to clean it up. The sight of it made me want to gag. They had left it there on purpose to hurt me more, I was sure of it.

I closed my eyes, steadying myself. I wouldn't give them the satisfaction of seeing that the blood bothered me.

I looked around at the rest of the room. The chairs were gone, and the table in the back was empty, save for a big a*s knife, that might have been a machete or something of the sort.

And standing next to it, his eyes glinting, was Ikaros.

The man guided me to the back, where Ikaros was waiting for me. He handed me over, and left the room without pronouncing a single word.

Ikaros was wearing his usual sadistic smile. "Well, well, little girl. You're back for me to have fun with, aren't you? But my Lord gave very specific instructions regarding you. " He said, his tone a little subdued. "Yes; I am to cut your hands off, and nothing more." He sounded disappointed, but regained his composure quickly. "Never mind, I can enjoy the small things in life as well."

He took the machete in his right hand, his left hand grabbing my left one.

"We'll start with this one, shall we?" He asked, smirking.

My heart was pounding in my ears, but I was determined not to give him the satisfaction of begging anymore. I would stand tall, and deal with the pain without uttering a sound.

He laid my arm on the table, holding it a few inches above the wrist. He lifted the machete, and with one swift motion, brought it down onto my hand.

It took a few seconds for the pain to register. At first, I didn't feel a thing, except shock at seeing my hand severed from my arm, lying a few inches away, blood spilling out of the wound.

Then I felt the pain.

It was an agony more intense than anything I had ever felt in my life, and was radiating up and down my arm, up my neck and down my spine. I could feel it in my whole body, my nerves raw, the searing pain excruciating and all consuming. It took every ounce of will I still possessed not to start screaming, but I managed.

He then took my second hand, the right one, and place it on the table. Before my mind could register anything, he had raised the machete, and brought it down a second time.

The pain was agonizing, and despite my clenched teeth, I could not keep a moan from escaping my throat. My knees buckled, and I fell to the floor, cradling what was left of my arms.

This seemed to please Ikaros, who smiled and licked his lips in appreciation, his eyes sparkling malevolently.

"Well, little girl. we seem to be done for today. But I don't despair in seeing you again, and having some more fun with you" he smirked. He then signaled to the man, who came for me again, put the blindfold back on and pulled me to my feet.

I hardly noticed any of this, the pain too much to bear. I felt myself losing consciousness, though whether it was from pain or from loss of blood I couldn't tell.

I was wobbling along, pulled roughly forwards by the man, back along the corridor. He stopped abruptly, and I bumped into him. I was knocked to the floor once more, my balance compromised by the loss of sight and of blood.

As I stumbled, I automatically put my arms out to brace my fall, and landed on my stumps left in the stead of my hands.

The agony was immediate, and I couldn't keep myself from whimpering.

Strong, rough arms picked me up and set me back on my feet. I was too weak to stand, and stumbled again as soon as the arms let me go. Another pair of arms caught me before I could fall, gently surrounding my waist and pulling my arm around his shoulder, supporting most of my weight.

"I thought he wasn't going to hurt her?" I heard an angry voice saying, coming from the man who was supporting me.

"He didn't. Not as much as he wanted, or as much as Ikaros was hoping. She's still alive, isn't she?" Said the second voice, from farther away.

"What about the blood loss? She's lost a lot. She'll die if she loses any more" said the first man aggressively.

"Well, then she'll die. Nobody cares." Said the second man, now walking away down the hallway.

The man holding me growled, a sound deep in his throat. He pulled me closer, still supporting almost all my weight, and started leading me away again. He was almost carrying me by the time we got back. He set me down slowly, taking care, it seemed, not to hurt me any more than I already was.

"Here. Let me take this off for you." He said, his voice low and gentle, while taking off my blindfold.

As soon as it was off, I realized that the man was Iason. Of course it was. Who else would pretend to care if I was hurt?

"I'm sorry I took you to them. I had no idea they would do this to you." He said, his eyes on my arms, in the place my hands should be attached.

I didn't have enough strength left to answer, and I wouldn't have known what to answer had I had any left. Why did he pretend to care? What else would he have done, seeing as his Lord had asked him to take me to him?

Iason looked at me, and seemed to hesitate for a while. He then took something out of his pocket, and took my left arm in his hand.

"This will help with the pain, and will stop the blood loss as well. Just don't tell them I gave it to you."

He showed me a small vial, similar to the one Ikaros had used on my friend. I instinctively pulled away as he approached it to my arm.

"It will hurt - a lot - for a short while, but then I promise it will be better." He looked at me with such a softness in his eyes, that I couldn't help but give in. And honestly, at that point, I would have anything for a bit of relief from the pain.

He put a single drop on his finger, then smeared it onto the end of my arm. The pain immediately intensified. It was as if instead of being just cut off, my arm had been ripped off, crushed, burned and frozen all at the same time. The pain was immense, and just as I thought I was going to pass out, it stopped.

Iason looked intently at me, then took my right hand in his, and repeated the process. The pain flared up again, but as it had for the first arm, it quickly subsided, leaving nothing more unpleasant than a prickling sensation on the stub.

I looked at my stubs, lifting them to my eyes, examining them. The skin was an angry red, but other than that, it looked like the wounds were a few weeks old. The bleeding had stopped completely, and the pain was almost nonexistent.

I raised my eyes to Iason. "Why would you help me? Why do you care how they treat me? You're with them. You should stop pretending you care." I turned from him, angry now at him for helping me, trying to make me believe he cared in any measure.

I walked back to my usual corner, and sat with my head against the wall until I heard Iason leave.