Void Domain, Book 04 полностью

During her thoughts, Catherine had continued talking. Irene quickly tried to pay attention. “–ends up not affecting demons much at all. Only a few especially stupid actually suffer for it. Since it is a vastly more interesting topic and one that, ironically enough, is quite related to you all, who can name a type or race of demon?”

Irene stiffened. This was definitely not a coincidence. At her side, Jordan stiffened as well. They shared a brief, worried glance.

Max–that traitor–lifted a hand in the air. He probably wanted to show off for his new best friend, Drew. Or Catherine herself. Probably the latter, more likely.

At Catherine’s nod in his direction, he said, “Arachne?”

“Incorrect,” Catherine said. “Arachne is an individual. She has no siblings, spawn, or progenitor to share her name with. Should she, Void forbid, decide to breed one day, that might change. There is, however, a demonic race of spiders called jorogumo, but they aren’t sentient. Not that you would be able to tell the difference. Anyone else?”

Jordan, to Irene’s great surprise, was the next to raise his hand. “Succubi,” he said without waiting to be acknowledged.

Catherine’s face split into a lecherous grin. “Ah yes, succubi. Arguably the most well-known race of demons among humans. And for good reason. We–” She stopped and cleared her throat for a moment. “We often hear tales of how beautiful and wonderful and perfect those enticing beings are.”

A sinking feeling settled into Irene’s stomach as the substitute went on about succubi. There was no sign of her diatribe slowing, nor a hint of an end.

There was, however, a small nagging feeling in the back of Irene’s mind. It made her look at the substitute in a new light.

And not necessarily a positive light.

— — —

Alicia Heiden gasped for breath.

She sucked in the air as fast as she was able.

It had only been thirty-seconds–she’d counted the first few times–but her lungs were burning all the same.

As soon as her head emerged from the water, the cranks of the wheel slowed. The clicking became audible as water drained from her ears. The rest of her body had to sit in that murky liquid until the wheel turned enough. By that time, she would have her head at the peak of the wheel. There wouldn’t be time to dry before she started back towards the water.

And then she would be fighting off all the blood rushing to her head. Once again, she would be sitting on the edge of passing out.

Every turn of the wheel made Alicia that much more exhausted. That much more tired. That much more likely to succumb to passing out.

She couldn’t sleep. She couldn’t nap. Early on, she had guessed that each revolution took roughly one half hour–that included the times the wheel sped up while her head was underwater. If she could guarantee that she would only sleep during the upward motion of the wheel, Alicia would take the chance in an instant.

As it was, she was certain that she wouldn’t wake up thanks to the blood rushing to her head.

Alicia knew without a doubt that she would drown if that ever happened.

After she caught her breath, Alicia started to relax. Going up the wheel was infinitely better than going down. Far less stressful. Enough so that she often felt bored.

Bored! During torture!

She had lost count after about twenty revolutions, but she was running out of things to occupy herself with.

Alicia had already imagined herself in each of the other torture room implements. In comparison, the water-wheel wasn’t bad at all. There was another wheel device across the room; except that one looked designed to move along a bed of hot nails, pressing the helpless victim into them as it turned.

Her wheel didn’t even have spikes! What luck.

Sure, she might have preferred a stationary chair or bed of some sort. Most of those she could see had something uncomfortable about them, whether that be flames, more spikes, or a bladed pendulum. One device looked designed to dip a restrained person into a trough of molten lava.

On second thought, the water wheel was one of the best devices to be–

Alicia shook her head. Her mind was wandering, becoming loopy. She would rather not be tortured in the first place.

But as long as she was…

The wheel ground on, clicking and clanking as it brought Alicia up to face the ceiling.

This was even worse. At least there had been something interesting to look at before, even if they sent her mind down weird tangents.

Here, there was just the ceiling.

She had already counted every tile in the room.

Boredom was dangerous. Boredom led to sleep. Sleep led to drowning.

So Alicia turned her thoughts towards the same subject that always occupied her mind during this phase of the wheel.

Why is this happening to me?

She wasn’t being asked questions. She wasn’t being held for ransom, as far as she could tell.