Chapter 55 Burn
BURN
Burn felt a deep, rumbling growl rise in his throat, his entire body vibrating with rage.
The hallway echoed with the Trollox’s voice, loud and grating, each word like a slap of sound against his ears.
“Piggy-wigs, get out here now!”
Gods, how he fucking hated that name.
He and Bright moved as one—shoulder to shoulder, instinctively forming a shield in front of Noelle. Burn stepped slightly in front, ready to absorb the brunt of whatever the three-headed bastard was about to dish out.
She’s ours now. No matter what this fucker says—she belongs to us. I’ll die before I let him touch her! he thought grimly.
The door slammed open hard enough to rattle the frame.
There stood Thune, blocking the threshold like some nightmarish parody of a bad fairytale. All three of his thick necks bulged with muscle, and all six of his piggy little eyes were narrowed in accusation.
“What did we tell you about being in the same room?” he barked. “No mingling and no breeding until we say so!”
Burn curled his upper lip in a snarl.
“We weren’t breeding, you big ugly fuck—we were talking!”
The room echoed with his fury. Beside him, Bright held steady, still shielding Noelle, even though Burn could feel the tension vibrating off him like a tuning fork ready to snap.
Thune’s three mouths twisted into something between amusement and cruelty.
“No talking back!” he thundered, and the remote in his thick, meaty hand clicked.
Agony exploded in Burn’s spine—white-hot lightning shooting through every nerve. His muscles seized, locking his body into one long, shuddering convulsion. He dropped like a stone, knees slamming to the floor as the pain drove the air from his lungs.
Gods—fuck—can’t breathe—can’t fucking breathe…
He heard Noelle behind him, her voice ragged with panic.
“Stop! Please, stop—you’re hurting him!”
Through the haze of torment, Burn saw Bright still on his feet, gritting his teeth and leaning protectively over Noelle, his own body twitching from the pain. He was refusing to go down.
Bright, you stubborn fuck. Gods, don’t get yourself hurt trying to be the shield for us both…
And then, as suddenly as it began, the pain stopped.
Burn collapsed forward onto his hands and knees, sucking in huge, greedy gulps of air. His skin was slick with sweat, his vision spotted at the edges.
His body screamed to lash out, to fight, to kill. Rage surged through him like a tidal wave. But his limbs were slow to respond, his nerves still jangling like frayed wires.
He looked up to see Thune standing over them, cheerful again—like nothing had happened.
“Now then, now then,” the middle head said in a syrupy tone. “You must excuse us—we just get upset when the little piggy-wigs don’t obey.”
Burn’s hands clenched into fists against the floor.
Fucking sadistic piece of shit. Laughing while we’re on the ground, twitching like puppets on a string.
“Now come along, piggy-wigs—time for play time,” Thune said with faux cheer, his three heads nodding out of sync.
Burn pushed himself up slowly, shakily, muscles trembling as he rose to his full height. Bright was beside him in an instant, a steadying hand on his back.
“Play time?” Burn growled. “What the fuck? After that?”
“Play time is fun for all the piggy-wigs,” Thune said with an oily grin. He waved the pain remote at them like it was a party invitation. “Unless you’d like some more pain time instead?”
Bright’s jaw tensed, and Burn felt a fresh surge of fury boil up inside.
He was ready to tell the fucker to shove the remote up his triple ass when Noelle stepped forward quickly.
“No, no—we don’t want that!” she said, her voice tight with fear. “We’ll do play time.”
Burn’s stomach turned at the tremble in her voice. Clearly she was terrified, but she was doing this for them. His heart fisted in his chest.
“Good, that’s what we like to hear,” Thune’s middle head said brightly. “Come on then, boys and girls—let’s go. All the good little piggy-wigs follow me.”
Burn bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.
One day, he promised himself as they followed the towering Trollox out of the room, one day you’re going to wish you’d killed us when you had the chance, you three-headed fuck. Because when I get the remote away from you, I’ll make you beg for death.
He didn’t say the words out loud. Not yet. But the vow burned bright in his chest.
Play time or not, the clock was ticking.
And when it ran out…there’d be hell to pay.