20 The Torturer

It was completely pitch black, and he couldn't see anything. His hands and feet were tied in chains very tightly, and he could only move his head. His nose itched, and he tried not to think about it because he couldn't scratch it. There was no window and he could hear the sound of water crackling constantly, so it seemed likely that he was underground.

Jett was in an awful situation. It would have been better for him to die with his entire team instead of raising his hands into the air and shouting from all the power of his lungs that he would surrender. That damn captain without a hand had punched him in the face and left him breathless, breaking his nose. That's why his nose itched so hard.

After the impact with the fist, he had fainted and woke up here in this dungeon, bound worse than an animal and not knowing when he would see the light of day. Jett thought he would make some easy money, just looking for a girl and bringing her to his employer, but things had gotten out of hand.

He heard the creaking of a door and finally saw a ray of light. A figure entered the room with a candle in his hand, which cast shadows on the visitor's strong and slightly elongated chin. The hand with the long, sharp nails placed the candle on the table in front of Jett and then retreated into the thick darkness.

A few seconds passed that seemed like an eternity to Jett. He thought that the person might have left, but there was no creaking of the door. He knew that nothing good would follow, and the voice he heard confirmed his fears, for that voice was calm but hollow, and at the end of each sentence, it seemed that the visitor's lips curved in an ominous smile when he uttered those words. "Are you fascinated by fire?"

Jett froze. By no means did he think that this was the first question he would be asked. In the end, he managed to mutter, "No, not particularly."

A slight chuckle came from the darkness. "I'm fascinated by it, and I'm going to share my passion with you now."

Jett heard footsteps slowly approaching. A pale white hand freed his left arm from the chains, and Jett scratched his nose. But, quickly, the unknown man grabbed his wrist with an inhuman force, and his long nails penetrated deep into the prisoner's flesh. The unknown visitor pulled his arm hard and held his palm close to the candle flame.

Jett clenched his fist to avoid it, and then he heard the voice again. "Tsk, tsk, tsk, toys like you are defective, failing to perform as expected. Let's make some improvements. Shall we?"

The second hand came out of the darkness, untied the fist he clutched tight with all the power he could muster, and ran its fingers between Jett's, gripping his hand as if it were a romantic date. But, with a sudden thud, all of Jett's fingers snapped in an unnatural position, torn from the root.

The ensuing scream was tenfold and replicated hundreds of times in echoes reflected by the bare, cold walls. No matter how great his pain was, it did not compare to the agony he felt when the delicate skin of his palm reached over the candle and heated up.

The itch in his nose had worsened from the smell of burnt flesh, but it didn't seem so important anymore. Jett's screams were relentless, endless in a circle of terrible pain. He barely managed to make any intelligible sounds among the screams. "I tell you everything you want to know. Please stop. Ask me. I'm telling you eeeeeeeverythiiiiiiiiiiiiiing!!!!! "

The torturer chuckled but removed Jett's hand from the flame and placed it on the table with his burned palm up. "Why did you interrupt me? I had just started playing with my new toy!"

Jett's fear was boundless and much stronger than the pain he felt because the man in front of him was serious, and that was just the prelude. He spoke breathlessly. "We were hired to find a girl from that village near the forest. We would find her easily because everybody knows her. Many call her the hero of the village because she saved a child from a monster. But when I got to her house, she wasn't there. We questioned her mother, but she didn't know or didn't want to tell us anything. Lester punched her to make sure she wasn't lying, and then a dog jumped on us. I kicked him and threw him out, where he fell motionless. When I turned around, I stumbled upon the table and the candles on it lit the curtains and the carpet. Believe me. I didn't want to set fire! I ran. We weren't even paid…. "

"You could have taken the woman out of the house when you ran away!"

The voice in front of him thundered, and for the first time, it no longer seemed hollow. Now the torturer was nervous and deadly, and that scared Jett even more, who screamed again. "Please, please, I'll straighten up. I'll never do something like this again! I hate royalty! I will never work for the royal family again! I promise! Please!"

For a while, the unknown visitor stood in silence. Not a sound came across the room.

"Who hired you?" the threatening voice was heard again.

"I do not know his name, but he dressed like a king or lord and had the coat of arms of the royal family on his cuffs. It was a dragon on it! "

Two red sparkles appeared in the dark, and the voice was more monstrous than ever. "What color was the dragon on the cuff?"

"Blue, blue!" Jett screamed more frightened than ever.

Drake extinguished the candle, leaving the room in complete darkness, and went outside. He leaned against the wall, calming his breathing until his eyes returned to normal. "Damn it, Wrenn! If you want Hope, you'll need to kill me first! "