I’m surrounded by silence, sitting cross-legged on my bed, doing the only thing to amuse myself, and that is coloring, when the door suddenly swings open on a loud slam and a masked man comes for me.
I know his name is Filip. He’s watched me in the training room a few times. He has dark skin like one of the men who abducted me from William’s property, and black, tightly curled hair cut close to his scalp. His throat and neck are tattooed, and I imagine his body would be covered in ink. I try not to allow my eyes to linger on him for too long whenever he’s watched me.
He’s a very dangerous person. He frightens me, because he’s such a strong-looking man, a true fighter. He could easily break me in two. He’s dressed in an expensive-looking suit, like all the sentinels, and I know he is armed. His body would be a weapon all by itself.
Filip takes a few long, powerful strides to get to me, and I can’t help but throw my broken wrist away from him, protecting it as he yanks me off my bed on a yelp. The pages of my coloring book are kicked across the bed as my legs flail, and I half fall, half get dragged to my feet.
“Stand up, girl!” He has the same accent as Boxer.
I do my best to regain my balance, and then I’m shoved forward, his hand pressing into my lower back, and I’m out my room and in the corridor that seems only to go round and round in an infinite loop. The illusion given is that we are all trapped. I know there is a way out, but it is not for us to be shown.
“Where am I going?” The lisp has completely gone now; time has healed my tongue. I hope for an answer. I shiver, not from the crisp temperature but out of fear.
“Cezar wants to see you now, and that’s all you need to know.”
I hurry ahead of him, not wanting him to touch me again. I haven’t seen Mathias in many days. No matter what has gone down between us, I would rather he be taking me to Cezar than this man.
I try not to fret over what is about to happen to me. I have done nothing wrong. I have obeyed all orders and been a model prisoner.
I can’t be in trouble.
I am pulled backward when I’m about to walk past an ornate wooden door. I have not been this far from my room before. “Wait!” The order is sharp. Filip knocks on the door, and another masked sentinel I’ve not seen before opens it.
I gasp out loud when I am pushed roughly over the threshold, with Filip following me in. He didn’t need to shove me. I look over my shoulder, and the sentinel who greeted us is leaving, the door shutting with a sinister thud.
I look back to find Cezar watching me from behind a very impressive carved desk. His hands are steepled under his chin, his elbows pushing into the leather top.
“Lovely to see you again, Whisper.” His smile is creepy, his accent I still can’t pick. The mood in this room is deadly. I feel like something very bad is about to happen.
Filip is standing close by, a silent threat to behave. I can feel him waiting for my reaction when I find out why I am here. He is taking great pleasure in his position.
My eyes stray to the carpet in front of his desk. Is that fresh blood that’s been spilt? I look up, catching Cezar observing me.
“I must apologize for the mess.” He waves a hand dismissively in front of himself from where he is seated on what looks like a modern day throne. “I haven’t had time to redecorate.” He sounds amused with himself.
Is that real gold on his chair?
It is such a big, opulent high-backed seat, one you could lounge sideways in. “Whose blood is it?” My heart pounds a drum between my ears, because I didn’t mean to say that out loud.
Cezar gets up, ignoring my outburst, collecting something in his hand, and secreting it behind his back as he walks toward me. He simultaneously taps this something on his back as he takes steps closer to me. He’s wearing a full black mask, with a large mouth opening on it.
These men are never without their masks. I want to yank them off their faces. They are cowards not showing their identities.
He stops in front of me. Too close. Deliberately right up in my personal space. “You are looking well.” His head tilts to the side as he inspects my face, his breath smelling of flavored smoke. “I see the bruises have all cleared up, and underneath all that swelling is the beautiful woman I knew you to be.”
I hold my ground, trying not to look defiant and uncomfortable in his presence. I have learned to play along. I am buying time for my friends to find me, for Edge to find me.
I am thankful to be wearing the yoga pants and a tank top, my hoodie zipped up high. I have on my armor. I am covered from his prying eyes.
“Oh, look at you all up in your head.” He childishly taps me on my temple with a finger and squats down a little to my eye level. “I can see you want to do bad things to me, young lady. You want to hurt me, don’t you?”
I go to look away, because my eyes are selling me out.
He roughly grabs my chin, holding my head in place. “You need to hide your feelings better, Whisper.” He releases me and taps my nose, and I want to flinch away, but I don’t. He’s more amused by my emotions. “This is your lucky day. I’m feeling most gracious toward you, because you’re about to do something for me, and it will give me great pleasure to watch you carry out my order.”
My skin starts to prickle in fear and I take an involuntary step backward… into Filip’s rock-hard chest. I’m now sandwiched between these two men. They have come together like a vice.
Another game of intimidation.
I can feel Filip is hard, and it is pressed up against my lower back. He smells blood in the air, and he’s the type of man who enjoys dark sensations and my discomfort. He gets off on it.
The game has gone up a notch since I walked in. I think of Edge telling me to do as I’m told no matter how difficult. I need to save myself. I want to see Boxer and Miss Catherine again. I’m afraid of what Cezar is going to ask of me. Will I be able to do it?
No matter what?
I look past Cezar’s shoulder and can see on his desk rests a hideous three-faced mask, as if he had recently discarded it. It has red spots on it. What went on in here?
Cezar turns his head, following my line of sight. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about that mess.” He turns back. “All will be set right soon enough.”
There’s something far too calm about this man. I don’t like how my gut is starting to churn. He takes several steps away from me, allowing me to sidestep away from Filip.
“While we wait for Mathias to join us, come kneel at my feet, Whisper.” He points to a place free from the blood marks he’s now standing by. I can do nothing but obey him, so I walk over and kneel before him. “Hands on your thighs and bow your head.” I do my best with a broken wrist. “Sit back on your heels.”
I can see his feet moving as he steps back, and his ankles cross as he props himself up against the wall, his hands still behind his back. If I looked up I would expect to see him looking down his nose at me.
So arrogant.
We stay quiet like this for some time, except for this constant tapping noise coming from Cezar. I’m beginning to wonder how long I have to sit here in this submissive position, when there’s a sharp rap on the door.
“Ahhh, here is Mathias now. You, my darling, are going to teach my newest sentinel a lesson on manners and respecting his king. Come now, you don’t have to avert your eyes.” I look up, and his hand is held out for me to grab onto. I reach up and allow him to help me up, pulling my fingers free once I’m standing. I turn my body slightly away from Cezar, trying to put as much space as I can between us, my head bowed at an angle. What does he mean I’m going to teach Mathias a lesson?
“Let him in, Filip.”
Mathias walks in. I look out the corner of my eye, my head turned ever so slightly, and I see his eyes glide over me. He shows no signs of being surprised to see me in here.
Did Cezar find out about his phone?
I’m clutching at straws as to why I am in here. My belly starts getting all nervous again, and I can feel myself starting to overheat with the stress of what is about to happen in this office. I’m feeling dizzy. I shut my eyes and wait for it to pass.
“Yes, sir?” Mathias steps out of Filip’s reach, a deliberate move, and keeps enough space between me and Cezar.
“Mathias, thank you for coming along as requested.” I hear the politeness in Cezar’s words, but I’m not buying it. William had taught me many times that polite words don’t equal a happy, sane man. It is often a man barely containing his anger. “Whisper has been invited to help out with something for me. Would you be a good sentinel and come stand and face the wall, palms flat to the surface.”
“Sir?” He doesn’t move.
I look at Cezar, who gives Filip a nod. He swiftly ambushes him from behind and throws him against the wall on a resounding ‘ooph’ from Mathias. “Cezar said palms flat,” he grunts. Mathias doesn’t fight Filip; he does as he’s told.
I try not to show my shock at what is quickly escalating badly for Mathias, while my mind is a jumbled mess as I try to think why Cezar is turning on Mathias. With his palms flattened against the wall, he can only wait quietly as Cezar walks up to his vulnerable back while Filip moves away.
“See, this is what you are still doing wrong.” He talks over Mathias’s shoulder. “You are questioning me, first with bringing Whisper to my office when asked, and now with doing as I request of you again.”
My eyes shoot to what has been making that tapping noise. Cezar has a long cane behind him, and he’s tapping it against his back. “This means you need double the reminder of doing what I ask the first time without question. You aren’t paid to question my orders. You are here as one of my sentinels, because you have earned the right to be here. I understand you’ve had a little lapse in judgment. You aren’t used to working for me, but now that you are here, you don’t question anything I ask. Is that understood?” He’s still being far too calm and polite.
Mathias cocks his head to face Cezar. “Yes, sir. I apologize.”
“I do understand you felt the need to continue with the original order I had given you, but I am prone to changing my mind. So let me hear you again.”
“Yes, sir!” Mathias responds in military style, like men you see in the movies with their heads looking dead ahead and shouting their agreement to their senior officer.
Cezar steps away from Mathias, coming back to where I am standing. I hope he is pleased with Mathias’s reply and this is all finished.
But, I’m not so lucky.
“Filip, undo Mathias’s pants and drop them for me.”
Filip snaps to attention, hugging Mathias’s body as he wraps his arms around his waist and I hear the belt being unbuckled. He does something, and Mathias grunts painfully.
“Filip, I didn’t tell you to play with Mathias. Unless you want what he’s got coming, I would get on with it,” Cezar scolds, and Mathias’s pants and grey trunks are pulled down, exposing taut buttocks, his suit pants a puddle at his feet. “Spread your legs for me.” Mathias doesn’t hesitate this time. They are as wide as his muscular trapped legs will allow him.
What the hell does Cezar want me to do to him when he’s in this position?
Filip steps to the side with an evil, knowing smirk as he glares at me. He is as much a creep as Cezar. I return my attention back to Mathias.
“Filip, cut his jacket and shirt up the spine. There’s too much in the way,” Cezar commands, and Filip reveals a blade he had hidden on himself and tugs on the bottom of Mathias’s suit jacket, slicing it clean up the middle of the expensively tailored material. It puts up no fight, letting the pieces separate.
Cezar steps forward, pushing it farther to each side, revealing a large tattoo on Mathias’s back. “What is this, Mathias?”
“Norse raven,” he replies without turning his head. It is beautifully detailed, the feathers lifelike. The bird is in flight, ready to snatch up its prey. It covers his muscled, broad back.
“Lucky you aren’t receiving your lashings on your back. I would hate to destroy such a wonderful piece of art.”
Lashings? A fast-paced drumbeat starts up in my head. He said I was going to teach Mathias a lesson. Surely he doesn’t expect me to use the cane on the man’s body?
Mathias’s back muscles ripple as Cezar continues talking. “You are going to have to hold still. I would hate for you to catch a lashing or two over this fine artwork.” Cezar turns to me and holds out the cane. I don’t make any move to take it from him. “Whiiiisper.” I hate the way he draws my name out, his disappointment evident in my lack of enthusiasm. “Do I need to remind you as well about doing as you’re told? Hmmm?”
I simply stare at his hand for several seconds, because I’m having trouble reaching for it. I have been beaten, lashed with a belt until my back bled. I can’t be involved in hurting somebody like this.
Suddenly, my right hand is yanked out and the cane is thrust into it. I don’t want to hold this thing, but I curl my fingers around it, the weight of it foreign in my small hand.
Am I really expected to administer the lashings?
I’m standing in disbelief holding a long cane. I must look horrified. It is thin but strong, and looks like it could do some serious damage.
I can’t.
I look at Cezar, my eyes pleading with him. I have no pride left.
“Now, my dear, you need to get started. I’m a busy man.” He smiles encouragingly at me. He moves me into position behind Mathias’s naked body. “You may get your vengeance on Mathias for holding you down, allowing your tongue to be cut. I need you to strike like you mean it.” He motions with his hand to start and steps away.
I stand there like a statue, my right arm limp by my side, my left one still encased in a cast I hold against my chest. I can’t bring myself to harm another person in this way. I look back at Cezar, wanting him to feel pity for me and let both of us walk away.
He sweeps his hand forward, his eyes crazy-excited, his smile all wicked. “Go your hardest, dear, as he needs to be taught some discipline and reminded that his place as my sentinel is to do and not question.”
My mouth is opening and shutting as I look between Mathias and Cezar. My arm still hasn’t made a move. I want to speak up, but no words will form. The drumbeat in my head only getting louder and fiercer.
Cezar steps up behind me and wraps an arm around my shoulder, his mouth smashing into my cheek. I want to pull away, but he holds me firm. “Sweetie,” he grinds out, “he was only getting six lashings until he questioned me again, so the number has now doubled. That’s on him. Keep looking at me like you are and standing there doing nothing,” he gives my body a shake, “and three more lashings will be added if you don’t start administering a dozen by the time I count to three. This will make it fifteen, and if you choose not to do it, after I have been so patient with you, I will be forced to give you the same treatment and the same number of lashings, and Filip will be the one administering it to both of you.
“Trust me, he won’t hesitate, and as you can see, he is one strong man. He will be getting a hard-on hoping you keep standing here fretting about caning Mathias, because he badly wants to be given the opportunity, and he will thoroughly enjoy himself.”
My breath has caught in my throat. I want to drop the cane and run.
“One... two—”
“Stop! I’ll do it,” I cry out. I grip the cane tight, reminding myself it is still there, an extension of my arm, ready to inflict grievous bodily harm.
“Fifteen lashings it is then.” He claps his hands together.
“What? I said stop.” I’m shocked he would add on three more.
“You haven’t started. It is about to go up to eighteen, and six is the recommended number for a good disciplining.”
I want to whip Cezar across the face.
Without thinking about what I am about to do, I hold the cane up and swing it down onto Mathias’s firm buttocks, leaving a light red mark.
I can feel Cezar’s disappointment before I see him shaking his head slowly. “Oh... come... now. You can do so much better than that.” His voice is a drawl filled with boredom. “Let’s call that a practice hit, shall we? You’ve obviously never done this before. Let me help you.” He stands behind me and covers my hand with his. “You need to have a good, strong stance. Spread your legs, putting weight onto your back foot.” I do as he says for fear of the lashings going up further. “Now let me guide you, because the cane needs to snap on his flesh for a good hit.” He positions his body, and then he brings my hand down with powerful force, the air whistling a tune before the cane cracks against bare flesh with a satisfied snap.
Mathias’s body barely moves, but he can’t contain the low hiss that escapes his lips.
I can’t look at where it hit.
Cezar nuzzles my ear, his spare hand gripping my nape. I want to jerk away from him, but I stand strong. “Now don’t play coy with me. I’ve seen your back, so I know you know what a lashing feels like and the power needed to administer a good one.”
My face reddens at my shame.
“I want to see some true energy in the caning, or else you will have your palms up against the wall beside Mathias, and Filip won’t hold back, I can assure you. So let’s say we try again. This is your last warning.” His patience is stretched thin. I can see I have nothing to offer to get out of this. Mathias has already received two lashings. “We start counting from now.”
What? I hold my tongue. He’s already received two.
“Make sure you count along with me. It will make it more fun.” He’s so creepily happy about what I’m about to do.
Seventeen lashings he will receive, not fifteen. Fuck!
I swing the cane and count out loud, and I swing it with as much of a show of my strength as I can. I’m being transported back to the slave cabin where William used the belt on me until I passed out. He never counted out loud. I think the number kept going up. The more I could handle, the more I got, until my mind gave in.
This time, I am the monster.
Mathias takes every lashing silently until the tenth one, and that’s when the grunts and groans start. His muscled flesh is really getting cut up now. There is no fat on his butt. They are two toned globes. The skin has split in all the places the cane has laid its bite. Mathias’s head is hung between his shoulder blades, sheer will keeping him standing in place.
I rein five more lashes onto it, breathing heavily as I speed them up to get this over with, perspiration wetting my hair. I should be happy to get back at him for all his involvement, but I’m not.
I’ve hit him seventeen times when the cane is tugged from my grasp. “Good girl. You’ve done better than I expected. You may have a place on my team, after all.” I take a really good look at what I have done to Mathias. He won’t be sitting down for a long time. His buttocks are now shredded raw, the bloody flesh exposed.
I did that.
I know Filip would have done so much more damage than me after five lashings. It offers no comfort that I stopped it from being a lot worse.
“Stand up, Mathias, and turn around.”
He pushes off from the wall on a moan and faces us. His hair is wet and sticking to his face. His eyes worship the floor, his arms limp at his sides.
To humiliate Mathias even more, Cezar strips the remains of the ruined suit from his arms, baring his naked body completely to us. He has a tattoo inked over his heart. It looks like a weird compass.
“Well, well, what is this odd-looking tattoo you bear, Mathias?”
“The Vegvisir compass, it is a Norse protection symbol.” Pain is laced through each word.
“I’d be asking for my money back.” Cezar shakes his head, grinning.
We both ignore him, our eyes meeting, and then mine travel down south of their own accord. When they reach his long, flaccid penis and my mind acknowledges that I’m staring at it, I quickly look away, anywhere but there. It is too private for me to see him like this. I don’t need to share in Mathias’s humiliation I know how it feels.
“Whisper, he is rather well-endowed isn’t he?”
I don’t answer Cezar, I concentrate on the floor. I don’t want to play his games. I’ve done as he’s asked, and now I want to be away from here.
I will not become a monster for this man’s pleasure.
This is how Cezar would have broken down Rose a little bit at a time until she became a robot who does his bidding. I can’t allow myself to be broken by this man. I defiantly look at him. He almost looks proud of me.
Bastard!
I catch Mathias swaying from the sheer strength of staying upright when in so much pain.
“Filip, stay here and stand sentinel. You can call Rose to attend to Mathias’s wounds, and she can make sure there is no infection.”
Mathias starts to say something and then stops himself, busying himself with stepping out of his shoes and pants. “What was that, Mathias? Did you want to tell me that Rose needed to rest after what I did to her?”
Mathias’s head shoots up. “No, sir!” he shouts in that military way again.
What did Cezar do to Rose?
Was that her blood splattered on the carpet?
“Mathias, you can escort Whisper back to her room now, and then go wait for Rose in your room.”
He nods at Cezar, and I move voluntarily to pick up the remnants of Mathias’s suit off the floor, where it has all been discarded.
“No!” Mathias is determined. “I’ll get my own things.”
I straighten up and head toward the door to wait, watching him bend down on one knee slowly, the flesh on his buttocks tearing a little more, but he doesn’t make a sound.
Blood is dripping onto the carpet from the horrible injuries I inflicted. He’s holding himself steady with one hand pressed to the floor before he rises, his strong thighs elevating him to stand.
A wave of anxiety hits me. I need to know if Rose is okay. There are far too many monsters in this room. I start breathing deep slowly like I taught myself, to calm myself down. I face the door and wait until Mathias leans around me and opens the door for me, ushering me through it.
“Oh, Whiiisper?” Cezar singsongs merrily.
What does the evil bastard want now? I stand still, tense, not turning around.
“I hope this serves as a further reminder that I only ask once. Disobey me, and severe punishment awaits you.” I hear the door softly close behind me, and then we are both walking.
I badly want to ask about Rose, when he tips sideways into the wall. My immediate reaction is to cup his elbow and tilt him back so he is again balanced. He’s completely naked beside me, but it’s the farthest thing from my mind. I have spent enough time over the years bared fully to William Dupré. I am desensitized to it.
“Do you need to rest? We can take it slower.” I shouldn’t be concerned for this man.
“No,” he grates out. “Keep walking.” The pain must be excruciating.
I make sure I am close enough to help if he starts to fall again, but I can’t make eye contact.
I know he is the enemy, but there is something about him that doesn’t ring true. Not like Filp or Cezar. My gut is telling me one thing, but my eyes tell me another. I’ve only met another four sentinels that are here rotating in the exercise room, and they all feel the same, highly dangerous. Mathias feels different.
I feel very closed in, not having seen daylight in a long time. I start to feel a little overheated. I need fresh, clean air.
I do my best to keep walking, but only find myself getting more lightheaded. I put it down to being so stressed about what just went down in that room. We’re not far from my door, but I don’t know if I’ll make it. I stop walking, reaching out blindly for the wall and taking a moment to steady myself against it. The cold stone is my friend for once, cooling my forehead.
“Whisper?” Mathias is beside me, tilting me up straight. I realize my eyes had closed or I’d lost a few seconds. I open them and see I’m beside room twelve. I’ve only got a little ways to go. I shrug his hold off.
“I’m fine.” But I know I’m not. I’m far from it as panic starts to set in. We reach my door without another incident, and he goes to open it for me. I hold up a trembling hand. “Please, just go and lie down and wait for Rose. I don’t need you to take me inside.” He doesn’t argue; he’s got his own problems. I nearly laugh hysterically at the thought of more quiet time. I open the door, enter my room, and shut it, not waiting for a response.
I lean up against it and slide to the floor, putting my head in my hand. My broken wrist is limp by my side. I had my tongue cut, and the pain was awful, but what I just did to Mathias was… barbaric. There will be horrible scars left, and he will be in great pain for a long time, every move sheer agony. Cezar wants to use me to hurt others, like he uses Rose.
I will not break like Rose.
I close my eyes.
I need Edge.