Chapter 30
Vivian’s Point of View
Rule thirty: Complete dismemberment is key.
I hold myself together just long enough to watch Leon and the guard leave the prison. The moment they’re gone, I crumble. Tremors wrack through my body, and my breaths come shallow and fast.
My usual strategy of shoving down emotions falls short when I can still feel him on me. Warm blood trickles down my thighs, and I shudder at the feel of it. It reminds me that soon, something far more sinister will be forced into me.
Fighting back a gag, I turn and scrape my thighs across the dirty floor. Grit embeds into the wounds, but I don’t stop. I need the grime to feel something – anything – that isn’t him. My blood smears across the stone floor, but I don’t stop until my legs are rubbed raw. The sting barely helps.
I curl in on myself. Exhaustion radiates through my bones, and my chest feels like it rattles every time I take a breath. The hollow ache hurts more than any of my external injuries. He’s broken me, inside and out.
I start sobbing.
“Shh. Hey, you need to stop that. Now,” someone whispers from the darkness. Their voice is urgent and afraid.
My head snaps up, and indignation flares through me.
Seriously? I was screaming when Leon was here, and no one said a word. But now that I’m crying, that’s too much noise? My annoyance dampens my sobs, and I press against the bars, trying to see who the hell has a problem.
Across the hollowed-out center of the cave, someone waves through the bars. The drop between us is maybe thirty feet across, but in the dead silence, his whisper carries easily. “You can’t let it hear you.”
The hand retreats inside the cell, but it’s too dark to see anything other than a vague outline in the shadowed space.
Someone above us hisses a barely audible “shh.”
“Why?” I whisper back, welcoming the distraction. There aren’t any guards patrolling the paths, and I’m intrigued.
“The demon. It’s attracted to sound.” His whispered response is impatient, as if he would rather not continue this conversation.
“Uhm, okay.” I guess there’s something else in here that’s guarding us? I twist, looking around, but find nothing. Shrugging, I turn back to the prisoner. “But there are bars between me and whatever’s out there. What’s it really going to do?” My whisper gets a little louder.
There’s a slight shuffle, and the reluctantly chatty prisoner emerges into the light. His long dark hair falls limply around his face, and like me, black cuffs encircle his wrists.
His amber eyes are wide with concern. “The guards don’t bother coming here. They use the demon, instead. It isn’t deterred by bars. Make the slightest sound, and it will feast on your limbs.”
I purse my lips, considering his warning, before doing the only rational thing.
I start screaming at the top of my lungs. “LEON IS A COMPLETE SACK OF SHIT, AND I CAN’T WAIT TO brEAK OUT OF HERE TO KILL HIM!”
The man’s eyes widen in disbelief, like he can’t fathom someone being so stupid.
I don’t stop. If I have to choose between losing limbs or being raped, then I’m going to make sure this demon gets the snack of its life.
Wait… if these cuffs block all magic, does that mean I won’t heal?
A girl can dream.
“COME ON, DEMON! COME AND GET IT!”
A menacing growl rolls through the darkness.
I grin manically, ignoring the very obvious fact that I’m about to be in excruciating pain.
Worth it.
The growling grows louder, accompanied by slow, heavy thumps – footsteps. The sound is coming from somewhere in the shadows below.
Fear prickles against my spine, but I swallow it down and keep screaming like a lunatic.
I need this thing to know exactly where to find me.
Squinting, I look for signs of movement in the black void, even as my pulse hammers in my ears.
Any second now.
Two red eyes emerge from the darkness. They lock onto me with lethal focus, and my breath catches. Thick globs of drool drip from its open mouth, but I barely register anything other than the teeth.
They’re the length of my forearm.
Another growl rumbles through the dark, and my stomach drops.
The sound didn’t come from the mouth I’m staring at.
Two more heads emerge from the shadows. The beasts look almost canine, if Dogzilla and a zombie got together. Their fur is mostly gone, with only a few patches of long, matted hair clinging around their muzzles and necks.
The demon dogs approach my cell, all six eyes watching me.
Not dogs – dog.
A single, horse-sized, canine body steps into the light. Three necks jut out from its torso.
It’s an honest-to-goodness three-headed dog.
The poor thing doesn’t look too good. Ribs protrude from its black, leathery skin, and its flesh is a constellation of pale, puckered scars.
One of the heads lets out a low growl, and the creature pads closer to my door.
Someone with survival instincts would probably be preoccupied with the fact that they’re about to be reduced to ribbons of flesh. But since I am clearly not mentally sound, I get distracted by the small pools of darkness that leak from its paws.
Is that blood?
The dog prowls closer, stopping directly outside my cell. Putrid breath washes over me as all three heads dip low to sniff me.
I hope I smell like bacon.
Hands trembling, I brace myself. Any second now, it’s going to jump in here and eat my legs – or my arms.
Maybe my head if I play my cards right.
Wait… if it eats my arms, won’t that remove the cuffs? Then I can use my Reaper powers to escape!
Holy fuck, I’m brilliant.
Not hesitating, I shove my hands outside my cell and wave them in front of the dagger-sharp teeth. “Here, puppy! It’s snack time! Eat up!”
As usual, Lady Luck isn’t on my side. Instead of chomping down on my arms, a massive tongue licks my hands. A second head impatiently bumps the one licking me, only to shove its mangled, half-torn ear against my hand.
Almost like…
My fingers curl behind the ear, and I gently scratch. The head I’m scratching immediately lolls out its tongue. A massive black tail starts to thump against the floor, the force causing small pebbles to rain down from the path above us. The two other heads start whining about being left out.
It feels like I’ve been sucked into a weird alternate universe as I mindlessly start petting them too.
“How in the Fates…” the prisoner across from me whispers, stunned.
All three heads snap toward the sound, snarling. Thick, corded muscles bunch as it crouches, ready to jump across the chasm.
Uh oh.
“Hey! Here boy? Girl? Puppy! Here, puppy! Don’t go, want more scritches?” I ask, trying to use my Cinderella voice.
It comes out as a demented squeak.
One of the heads glances back at me, tempted, before snapping its attention to the poor prisoner again.
Oh, this is bad. I’m supposed to be getting mauled, not the person who tried to warn me. Why didn’t the dog care when I made noise?
Realization hits fast, and once again, I’m reminded that I’m an idiot.
The dog springs across the cavern, and the prisoner lets out a scream.
“Cerberus, stop!” I yell, just as the dog reaches the bars.
He freezes, then turns to give me the saddest, most wounded look I’ve ever seen.
“Come here, Cerberus. Who’s a good boy? Come on back.” I pat my thighs like I’m trying to call a golden retriever, rather than a murder-dog.
The beast almost trips over his paws as he scrambles back to my cell.
“Good boy,” I coax, petting each head in turn.
My shoulders slump, relieved that I managed to call him back. I’ve only ever read about one three-headed dog. I shouldn’t be surprised that the Underworld’s guard dog is just as real as his master.
Hades mentioned that I was ‘of the Underworld.’ Apparently, his dog agrees.
There’s a thunk as the dog drops to the floor and rolls onto his back. All three of his heads turn to look at me, hopeful.
I smile, and it’s genuine. Of course, the hellhound wants belly rubs.
A few minutes later, a massive pool of drool has formed outside my cell as the murder-puppy naps contentedly.
“Is it safe?” The man across the way asks in a hushed whisper.
One of Cerberus’ heads opens an eye and gives a lazy warning rumble.
“Shh, down, Cerberus. Leave it,” I command, and the dog huffs before going back to sleep. “Yeah, I think so,” I finally answer.
Awed amber eyes meet mine as the prisoner moves to his door. “How did you do that?”
Somehow, I think telling strangers in prison about my top-secret power is probably not super-spy approved. Instead, I shrug. “We have a lot in common.”
His brow furrows, like he realizes I’m hedging, but then his face softens. “Are you okay?”
I almost laugh from the sheer absurdity of his question. Even with Cerberus asleep, the other prisoners stay in the shadows, just like this man did when Leon was assaulting me.
A small lick of anger snakes up my spine, and I remind myself that I should probably be nice. This is the only person making an effort to talk to me.
Unfortunately, I think my inner people pleaser is dead.
“Of course,” I drawl, sarcasm dripping from my voice.
“What tipped you off that I might not be okay? Oh! Was it when you watched me nearly get raped? Or was it during the emotional breakdown that followed? Oh! I know! It’s when I tried to let a three-headed dog eat me.
” I pause for a moment before adding, “Clearly, I am thriving.”
A soft laugh reaches me as the prisoner quirks an eyebrow. “Clearly.” His eyes twinkle, and he’s almost handsome if you can look past the layer of grime that coats his skin.
“So, what are you in here for?” I ask, hoping to divert his attention from my absolutely sound mental health.
It seems wrong to rub it in other people’s faces that I have so much inner peace.
We’re all on different journeys; no need to get braggy.
The prisoner slumps to the floor, his back resting against the wall. He’s rail-thin, and unlike me, he isn’t chained to the floor.
I’m only a little bit jealous. (I’m a lot jealous).
“The same reason as everyone else,” he answers, shrugging. “At some point over the last millennia, we’ve become a thorn in Need’s side.”
I stare up at what must be a thousand cells carved into the stone and frown. “Why does she bother keeping everyone alive? I figured she’d just kill people without remorse.”
“From what I’ve heard, Need has a thing for power. She hoards it worse than dragons and keeps us just in case we become useful.” His eyes flash, and the anger there matches the bitter bite of his words.
I hum thoughtfully. That means that everyone in this prison is powerful in one way or another. And yet none of them even dares to speak.
Need hasn’t just imprisoned these people.
She’s silenced them.
My odds of escape fall from zero to negative ten.
“Any tips for prisoner life?” I ask in a muted tone, trying not to let the despair win.
He sighs, dejected. “Yeah. You should know… they’re going to do whatever they want to you, whether you fight them or not.”
His underlying meaning has my spine straightening. “So, I should just give in? Let him do whatever he wants to me?” I all but spit.
I don’t miss the way his hands turn to fists against the stone.
“No. I’m saying that fighting won’t change what they do to you. But it will change how you feel about yourself. If you fight, your body will hurt more… but at least your soul won’t die.”
He whispers the last sentence so quietly that I almost miss it. Then, he crawls back into the shadows, making it clear that he’s done with our neighborly chat.
The next hour crawls by, and I spend it (unsuccessfully) coaxing Cerberus to bite my hands off.
Eventually, he gives me an annoyed look before padding back into the darkness below.
He’s less than impressed with my attempts to have him remove the objects responsible for head scratches.
From the scars covering his body and all three heads, I can’t blame him.
The poor guy looks like he’s been through horrible things. He deserves all the love.
Without the monstrous puppy to distract me, dark thoughts are quick to creep in.
I’m not enough. Sin believed in me, and I failed him. I failed everyone. It’s all I ever do.
Soon, Leon is going to come back, and he’ll do whatever he wants to me. I won’t be able to stop him, because no matter what I do, I’m weak.
I don’t deserve to be saved. I’m not a good person. Good people don’t let their friends die. Good people don’t hurt the ones they love.
All I bring is pain.
The guilt and horror twine around me, their barbs sinking into my skin. My sobs come freely, and this time, no one tries to hush me.
I alternate between crushing anguish when I hear the thoughts and panicked hyperventilating every time I remember how small this space is.
At some point, when I’m curled up in the fetal position, thinking I deserve death, sleep blissfully claims me.