17 Chapter 16 - Tortured Souls.

Back in the temple, the hunters base had grown in size, their people hard at work digging lower into the ground that lay underneath the original building. The clanking of metal was a common sound as nobody stopped for breaks at any moment.

But the people were still full of energy and were barely breaking a sweat, even in the harsh warm condition of the underground projects, sinking lower and lower, until the level the dungeons were on were swarming with different languages and noises. The captives riled and upset at their current condition.

But in the distant cell that once held Camus now holds a new prisoner, Charles. His eye had been patched up sloppily and was curled in the corner in filthy rags, the damp cold dungeon biting at his toes and fingers which shook vigorously, but his face remained stone cold as he thinks longingly of his past.

Wondering what could've been if he'd of too the chance and driven a sword in the dark princes back the moment he started turning people into the dead. But his loyalty to their family was so strong at that point, fueled even deeper by his fear of dying.

Those fears seemed to strengthen him now in the darkest of times, looking around at the dungeon hes been in for days now, nobody coming to see him except to give him water. But food was prohibited in the dungeons and the prisoners were not only angry, but they were starving...sometimes resorting to attacking and ripping parts off other captives.

Some even managed to acquire limbs from creatures just to feed their cravings.

But Charles was far enough away from the more beastly creatures in the cells, a singular cage at the end of the long stretching row of cages. Thankful he wasn't the poor elf who'd lost his arm to the feral werewolf in the cage next to him, the beast had already rid the stolen arm of meat and was nothing but bone.

Charles knowing the beast would only be back for more pieces of the unconscious elf laying in his own blood.

"Hey!...get away from him!.." Charles yells out to the werewolf that creeps to the edge of its cage, its eyes focused on the elf with a hungry passion. Its claws and skinny arm reaching out of its cage towards the elf's body.

"Stop!" Charles yells once again, approaching the front of the cage and grasping onto the bars, his face sweating and bloody with the expression of dread all over it.

"Shut up would you...the elf is already dead" A voice calls out from Charles's left as his head snaps in the direction of the cage, it was a woman's voice, with a gruff and gritty undertone to her.

"W-what?" He says in response, shuffling comes from the dark spaces of the cage, and a half clawed hand grasps around the bar of her cage, her nails were sharp and long and scraped along the metal with a sickening screech. Her face only half showing in the dim light of the dungeon her lips were cracked and sore.

Her skin a beautiful brown, but it was filthy like the rest of the prisoners being denied chances to clean themselves, slight scars mark her face down to her neck. Clothed in the same rags as Charles was an her face held the same expression the whole time, uninterested and aloof.

"Hes already dead...he bled out a few hours ago"

All Charles could do was sigh as he looked away from the werewolf and elf, now focusing on the only person whose spoken to him in the past few days.

"Who are you?" He asks her as she scoffs.

"I am not your friend human, you'd be right to stay very VERY far away"

This caught him off guard, getting even closer towards the edge of his cage and closer to her, peering inside to hers in an attempt to see what she looked like, but a disgruntled growl comes from the dark, two eyes peer at him dead in the eye as the growls get even louder and more angry.

Their blazing yellow color struck fear in Charles, making him back away from the cage and back into his curled up corner, peering back over to the corridor to see the elf had already been pulled through the cage and the werewolf had a feast upon him...while the rest of the prisoners still sat their starving.

jolting at the sound of the metal door opening, a larger figure walks down the corridor, avoiding hands and paws of creatures, approaching Charles cell with each thud of the figures armor but his condescending chuckle made Charles growl himself, looking on at the pretentious Lance with hate and rage in his eyes.

"You look absolutely ravishing...that missing eye really helps~"

"Well...if you want one...I can happily oblige" Charles snaps back at him, the man still smiling down upon the Caspian, unlocking his cage and locking him in shackles.

"I will miss that...come along~" he says, the confident smirk was intentionally trying to rile Charles up, but he wasn't biting...not yet anyways.

Lance leads Charles through the maze of machines and workers, climbing his way up the base towards the higher part of the chasm, leading him straight into the lair of the Stag King, the grand hallway was large but it wasn't anything compared to Caspia's grand hall. But the masked king wasn't present.

Residing in his living chambers, Lance directs him into a series of intricate hallways, all similarly decorated like Caspia's castle, although the colour shift was completely different, a deep brown and red were the signature colours of the hunters, but the rebuilding of an entire empire against all monsters needs some change.

A new image, a new leader...a new goal.

The hunters had striven to protect humanity from the rage of feral beasts threatening lives, which then switched to killing any and all things different to them. But nowadays, hunters had been killing and capturing humans in the event of the towers falling. A chain reaction of opportunities had arisen for them, but the only one who knows the whole plan...is the Stag King.

After a refreshing stretch of the legs, Charles is pulled into a secluded room by his captor and shoved into a seat, his shackles automatically attaching to the seat in a magnetic way.

He tries to move, but his position is compromised and cant leave the seat until Lance permits it to him. Looking up in a dreadful defeat, slumping down into his seat...an annoyed glare painted on his face.

Charles now hellbent on trying to keep his cool, despite the fueling rage building up on the inside. Lance getting a chair from the side of the room, it has similarities to the Caspian decor but over the years its become slightly deteriorated and damp. Lance sitting awkwardly on the chair while his eyes bore into his captive.

"So, how have things been? still missing your eye?"

"..."

"The silent treatment...your go to when you've got something to hide~" he teases, Charles lip quivers slightly into a sneer, but conceals his emotions.

"I can still see...sight isn't terrible when you're out of it" he whispers, Lance chuckles under his breath, taking out a jagged dagger from his back, from under his shoulder cape. Running the sharp point from his knee to the top of his thigh, digging in slightly but just enough to break the skin, Charles doesn't even flinch at his motions.

"You must get a lot of guys that way huh?~" Charles begins to tease back, only receiving a back handed slap across the face, breaking whatever poor stitching in his missing eye, blood begins seeping down his face while he clenches his jaw like a dog, growling at the stinging and stabbing pains bouncing around the walls of his skull.

His head pointed to the ground in defiance, the tip of the dagger finding its way to the bottom of his chin, lifting up his bloody and bruised face into the candle light.

"I know a lot more than you do...it must be strange not being in control anymore"

"Whats...your point?"

"My point is that you know nothing...and knowing nothing leads to being a nobody....sounds a lot like you doesn't it?"

Charles slowly creeps his head closer in Lances direction, the eye socket was raging and red with blood, the surface hasn't healed over yet so a coagulated clump of blood remain in the empty place. but even that couldn't curve his determination.

"You...were destined to become him..." Charles barks up at the man with his grunting voice.

Lances eyes squint at his comment, sitting up from his chair and getting behind Charles, an ominous and rearing presence creeping up on Charles's neck, the hairs standing up like marching soldiers as Lances lips gain closer to the ear.

"You're lucky you're wanted alive...or I'd cut your throat like the sheep you are"

Charles purses his lips and resists the urge to head butt him, biting the inside of his cheek in restraint.

"Although torturing you would be fun...I'm bored" Lance teases, hitting a switch at the back of the seat that releases his shackles from the seat, propelling the man forward onto the ground resulting in his head connecting with the carpet, dazing him slightly. Lance squat to the ground and drags Charles to his feet.

His stance wobbling at the sudden force he didn't see coming, making Lance chuckle under his breath, his face full of mirth and satisfaction. Charles's back to the door as he looks his captor up and down with focus.

"She'll get you...and your whole operation will be redundant"

Lance pauses in his meddling and tilts his head.

"She? what woman could smite me?"

It takes a good few moments of Charles's awkward silence to confirm his rising suspicions, brandishing his dagger some more before pointing it at him.

"Ahhhh...you mean the Elffire girl-"

"Shes a queen...watch your tongue!"

He scoffs at his reply and sits down in the seat he held Charles in, keeping his dagger pointed at the man with a smug face dripping with happiness.

"Such loyalty...is she a filthy snare like her brother?"

He doesn't answer but he didn't need to, the answer was already swimming in lances head like his inflated ego. Reveling in the progress hes making.

"Hmm~ maybe we should talk more about your...queen~"

"You know nothing about her, and her reputation will far exceed your impostor of a king"

Lance's eyes were focused on Charles's in a challenging stare, the mood of the room tense and weary.

"I have a question...what exactly do you know about the true king?" he probes back at him, realizing that he really doesn't know much about the mystery, nothing about his identity, nor his relations to the hunters...the questions swirling in the captives head as he finally replies.

"I know he isn't as powerful as her...and she'll blind him with her light!"

"ENOUGH-"

In a shocking display to both parties, Charles lunges for the other man in a violent act, punching and kicking him victoriously. Snatching his dagger with one hand, then kicking the chair he sat on backwards, sending the man toppling to the floor spitting minor blood from his teeth.

"ACCRINGTOOON!!!"

Charles taking the time to escape the room with a weapon and an advantage, sprinting through the twisting hallways as fast as he could muster, tired and slower than usual but making a great effort at getting away from the pretentious snob.

Huffing and heaving, he passes by shadows and takes shelter in the dark from the alerted guards that searched for him, hearing the angered and panicked voice of Lance from the echo in the long halls. Charles held the dagger close to his chest as he scuttles closer into the corner once a torch light passes by.

Holding his breath as he waits patiently for the guard to move on, the determined escapee now on the path to getting out of the hell hole. Before the thought of that woman crosses his mind, thinking on her condition and if it was safe to even free her...thinking that shes the only possible ally here that can speak English.

Sighing internally, before turning around to head for the cells, unsure of the passing guards, but proceeding faster in the direction of the dungeon. Sticking to the shadows the entire time.

For the most part it was successful, but after some close calls he finally makes it to the dungeons, opening the door and walking slowly towards the cage at the back, seeing her hands clasp around the bars, her yellow eyes shining in the dim moonlight from the barred grate in the ceiling.

"Hurry...hurry!" she whispered as all the captives had mostly settled, and paid no attention to Charles, but she points deeper into the cell as Charles starts looking around where she was pointing. Seeing a key hanging from the wall, the master cell key.

Grabbing it from the wall he pays no attention to his surroundings, The woman in the cage notices the unseen danger, raising her voice to warn him.

"Look out!"

Charles feels a sharp pain in the back of the head as he starts falling to the floor, knocked unconscious by Lance, who had known he would return to free her. Smiling to himself as the woman growls and starts punching at her cage bars.

"Shut up you stinking mutt..."

He drags Lances body back to his cell, locking it and staring into the woman's cage, scoffing at her in disgust as a short steam of spit launches from his mouth into the bars. Her growling only more livid and full of rage.

"You'll pay with your blood, meat" she whispers to herself as her eyes gaze back to Charles's body, softening with grief...

They wont be escaping tonight...