Zenora
52. A Traitor's Demise

I had eaten some lunch and then I took some buns and juice towards the dungeon, for Brock and Archeops. We still needed to get answers from Markus and it had taken them a lot of time already without any result. The men ate their lunch after washing their hands which were covered in some blood.

Markus had to watch them eat and drink and I could hear his stomach growl. Brock didn’t give him any food for the past few days, as a form of torture. He only got some water, to stay alive long enough. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ ꜰindNʘvel.ɴet website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

He looked awful, still hanging in the chains from the ceiling. On his chest were cuts from the lashes of a whip, his face and body bruised everywhere. Blood came out of his nose and left ear and his ribs looked contorted, so I guess he has some broken bones too. When I walked around the cell I noticed that fresh blood was dripping on his right side, when I looked closer, I saw that he had a cut from his shoulder all the way towards his elbow. Brock’s way of revenge for what he did to me, I guess.

“Where did you get the markings that are on your back, what do they do? Tell me and I’ll give you this bun.” Brock said to him and I could see his throat moving from swallowing. Markus was contemplating whether or not he should tell him. I haven’t seen the tattoo’s, nor could I see them now as his back was towards the wall. Brock told me yesterday, that he had seen the markings and described them to me. They were similar to the words in the mage book.

“They give me the power to cast one spell, now give me the food.” Markus said with a dry mouth.

“No, that was half an answer, where did you get the markings?” Brock said while he took a bite from the bun, he had offered to give to him.

I focused my eyes on his face but I couldn’t see a thing yet.

“Where did you get the markings!”

I kept my focus and then I saw an image, it only lasted for a few seconds, but I saw enough to explain to Brock later. The place I saw, looked dangerous but I knew exactly where it was. All I had to do was to wait for a while, to not let Markus know that I could read his mind. By now Brock had eaten the whole bun, Markus’ his moment passed by. Lunch was over now, so Brock walked up to him again.

“Ask him who gave him the book.” I said to Brock and he frowned to me.

“She can speak! I thought I had managed to silence that bitch forever! I bet she still shivers with the thought of me touching her between her legs.” Markus laughed hard and got kicked against his right knee by Brock. I could hear the bones in and around his knee crack and Markus screamed. I got sick of hearing that sound, reminding me of the same sounds that Markus created when he broke my upper leg. Those sounds, together with the putrid smells from the dungeon, made my stomach turn. I filled the bucket next to me quickly, with the lunch I ate earlier. Brock walked out of the cell towards me and noted for me to go out of the dungeon.

“No, just ask him about the book.” I said firmly while I wiped some drool from my face. I could tell that he was confused about it, but he didn’t know that I had been reading Markus’ mind. I gave Brock a nudge, to walk into the cell again. Reluctantly he did and I could focus on Markus again.

I focused my gaze towards Markus’ eyes again and when Brock asked him the question, I could see a person. A female stranger appeared in his head. She was casting a spell with a map on the table in front of her. I could see where she was pointing her finger at and it looked like the cave I went to. So, that’s how Markus knew where I was! Of course, Brock didn’t tell him to go there, as he wasn’t attacked by Orcs at all. Markus had used that for a lame excuse. So, all this time I wondered how he came to find me at the cave. It was one of the many things that just didn’t add up.

Markus’ point of view:

Why did she suddenly ask who gave the book to me? Did she find out about something? She started to whisper to Archeops, and Brock had walked over to them as well. What are they talking about? I didn’t care for now, they all were distracted for a moment and I saw a set of knives on the table in front of me.

The markings on my back could grant me one spell, but they hadn’t realized yet, that Brock interrupted me during the last spell I tried to cast. So, the powers weren’t used up yet.

If I’m not able to leave this cell, and they won't end this torture by killing me, then at least I want to make the life of that little bitch even more miserable than I already did!

I took the opportunity, spoke the mage language in whispers and focused hard. It raised the biggest knife up from the table by using my mind. The knife turned around, as I willed it to and it shot into the general’s direction. Straight towards his chest.

Brock’s point of view:

I saw Emily quickly jumping in front of me, when in the corner of my eyes, I noticed a knife approaching. Screams left my throat as I thought that she had sacrificed herself to save me. Arch grabbed my arm and shook his head in a motion for not to do anything. He told me to look at her eyes and to my surprise they had turned red! Not just the colour of her irises had changed, but the whites were bloodred as well and little bloodfilled veins around the sockets of her eyes appeared too. She had stopped the knife mid-air, and the point of it buried itself into the flesh of her hand. When she looked at the knife it dropped to the floor and then she turned her face towards Markus. I could see him becoming terrified of what just happened. I was stunned at the sight of her calm, yet furious face and wanted to stop her, but Arch kept holding me back as she stepped into the cell.

“You poisoned me.

Inflicted excruciating pain to me.

Let me bleed dry and you tried to steal my powers.”

The rhythm at which she spoke was calm, slow even, but the intonation of the words she let out, sounded raw and angry. It nearly sounded like someone else was talking for her, as if a demon had taken over her body.

She walked really slow towards her target, not breaking eye contact during the words she spoke. I’ve never seen her this way, nor did I want to interrupt her now as I don’t know what she will do. Arch noticed that I stopped struggling and let me go.

“All of the torture,

you had put me through,

is nothing compared to what you were trying to do now!”

Her hair started to rise up as a wind suddenly appeared around her feet. It swirled up around her body, together with some dust from the ground. Markus peed his pants in anguish as fluids streamed down his legs. He muttered some sounds but he wasn’t able to form words.

“You have tried to put a wedge between me and Brock.

Your touches haunted me for days.

But, you will never be able to speak another foul word.

Or touch anyone with those filthy fingers.

As I am going to end you!

NOW!”

The wind around her, started to become faster and filled the whole cell. Arch and I had to brace ourselves and held our arms in front of our faces. By now, she was being pushed up by the wind and was hovering a few inches above the ground.

She didn’t even touch Markus, but I could see he was being drained of the air from his lungs. His chest became a vacuum of thin flesh around his bones. She kept looking at him and his ribs started to break, folding inwards into his body. His eyes almost popped out of its sockets, and soon blood started to gush out of them. He couldn’t scream, as there was no air left to travel along his vocal cords.

Then she raised her hand and Markus was pushed up into the air. His legs dangling uncontrollable under his aching torso. She slowly squeezed her hand into a fist, and I could see and hear every other bone in his body break. The bones in his neck compressed together and the light in his eyes was being pushed out.

The wind around Emily disappeared and she fell down to the ground, on her knees. At the same time, the force that kept Markus’ body up, left. The body fell down, hanging limp and soulless, in between the chains from the ceiling.

She then let herself slide on her side. Crying, from the release of tension. Crying, for finally ending her own torture.

I ran over to her, picked her up and took her, to her room.

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