"You really don't have to stay here," Helios said. "I know you can't listen to this."
"I'll wait," Dante replied shortly. "Besides, Spider said everything here is pretty soundproof."
But his face revealed more than his voice let on. Helios could hardly tell how many emotions made up that expression. Dante clearly disapproved of what Helios was about to do. At the same time there was something irritable, determined in his posture—as if he were ready at any moment to intervene.
Or to carry the whole thing out alone.
The longer Helios looked at him, the more divided Dante seemed. Between duty and disgust, between the longing for revenge and the knowledge that vengeance was not peace.
"Do you want to do it?" Helios finally asked. His voice sounded unusually gentle. "I'll leave him to you if you want. After all, I already took away your chance to avenge my father."
Dante lifted his head, surprised. Then anger flashed across his face, brief as lightning. He clenched his jaw until the muscles in his neck tightened. Finally he shook his head.
"No," he growled hoarsely. "Better not. I don't even want to know what kind of person I might turn into in this room."
His gaze seemed to bore holes into the heavy metal door.
Helios tilted his head slightly, studying him silently. "And it's really okay with you that I do it?"
No answer. Dante kept staring at the door, the rage in his eyes only barely restrained.
"Dante?" Helios stepped closer and touched his arm gently.
Dante flinched violently. He exhaled slowly, as if struggling for composure. He closed his eyes and rubbed his face with a hand that trembled slightly.
"Damn, I still see your heart floating in that container and how they pulled you off that damned metal table…," Dante said softly.
Helios stepped closer and put his arms around him. His cheek rested against Dante's warm chest; he felt Dante's racing heartbeat. Dante held him tight, almost desperately, as if he had to make sure Helios was really there with him.
"He deserves it, Helios," Dante whispered roughly. "I want him to suffer. For everything he did to you. I… just can't do it myself."
"Okay," Helios said. A small smile played at his lips. "Thank you."
He was, in a way, relieved that Dante didn't want to do it. His anger at the doctor had not diminished. The images of what he had been forced to endure still haunted him even two weeks later.
He had focused on his recovery, even though there was nothing that actually needed healing. The exhaustion had sunk deep into his bones. The company was now running the way he wanted. He had had to let some staff go and the vacant positions needed to be refilled. He simply didn't want to surround himself with anyone who had licked his father's boots.
Aside from that, the wind-down of his father's side projects was going smoothly. He only had this to take care of, then the most urgent items on his to-do list would be crossed off.
He slowly pulled away from the embrace, rose onto his toes and kissed Dante gently on the lips.
"See you in a bit," Helios breathed against Dante's mouth.
"See you in a bit," Dante answered softly. His hand slid through Helios' hair, a brief, almost tender moment that was over far too quickly. Then he looked at him seriously. "If you need me — call me. Or send that idiot up."
Helios nodded and finally moved toward the door.
He took a deep breath and then stepped into the room. In the center stood a metal table, the kind you saw in pathology. It was the bed he had once prepared for Belladonna.
Who would have thought he'd ever really use this room?
The doctor thrashed in his restraints when he saw Helios. Muffled sounds came through the gag. Helios had no interest in hearing him scream. It was enough for him to be able to hurt Brooks — until he felt it made him any better. Only then would he release the physician who had gutted him like a Christmas goose.
He said nothing.
But his eyes never left Brooks, no matter what he did. He picked up the apron and gloves that had been laid out for him. Deliberately slow, he examined his instruments. He had a very clear idea of what he intended to do to this bastard.
Helios set the scalpel down and looked at his tormentor.
"He looks far too well-fed for someone who was only supposed to get the bare minimum," Helios said.
"I wanted you to have maximum fun, so I may have fed him a little too well," Spider said with a grin as he stepped out of the shadow against the wall.
The only light in the room came from the surgical lamp above the metal table.
"How considerate of you," Helios murmured. He gave Brooks a radiant smile. "Did you hear that? He said 'fun'. So, Brooks? Were you looking forward to the day I finally play with you?"
He removed the gag from Brooks's mouth. The doctor licked his dry lips. He looked at Helios pleadingly.
"Please," he gasped. "I… I treated you well, as well as I could—"
In one fluid motion Helios snatched up the scalpel and drove it straight into the metal beside Brooks's eye. A loud metallic clatter rang out and instantly rendered Brooks speechless.
Helios was suddenly unbearably angry; with great difficulty he restrained himself from cutting out that damned idiot of a doctor's tongue. Spider whistled appreciatively, whereupon Helios shot him an angry look. He tore his gaze away from Spider and fixed it on Brooks, who lay trembling on the metal table. His breathing was frantic, his eyes panicked and locked on the scalpel.
He was afraid.
Good. Just how Helios wanted him.
Helios grabbed the doctor's chin roughly and dug his fingers painfully into the man's facial muscles.
"Treated well?" Helios asked in a dangerously calm voice. "You starved me, put me under anesthesia… all that time I didn't see a single drop of water, nor did I receive any painkillers."
Brooks's eyes searched frantically for a spark of pity. "P-please…" he whimpered, his voice thin as paper.
"You know, my dear doctor?" Helios said, stroking Brooks's cheek gently. "I never forget anything. Anesthetized or not, my brain simply cannot forget, even though I often wish it could."
"H-Helios…! We've known each other for so long!" Brooks pleaded, sobbing.
But Helios ignored him. He put the scalpel away and gave the doctor a smile.
"What were your words again? Ah yes! 'Oh, it doesn't matter anyway. You'll heal either way.'" Helios repeated the doctor's words. The doctor sobbed. "But do you remember what I told you back then? I promised I would do far worse to you than my father. I hope you're prepared."
He shoved the gag back into the doctor's mouth.
His eyes found Spider's.
"Well then. I hope you enjoy the show," he said matter-of-factly.
"You have no idea how long I've waited for a moment like this," Spider said, grinning with satisfaction.
Helios rolled his eyes and turned back to the doctor. He smiled at him coldly.
"Let's get started — I have other plans."
___
Helios stretched and enjoyed the silence surrounding him.
Spider looked at him for a long time, but he, too, said nothing. He simply looked more than satisfied—so much so that it somehow irritated Helios. He handed Helios a damp cloth so he could wipe the blood from his face.
Helios took the cloth without a word, wiped his forehead and cheeks. The blood had already dried. Spider leaned forward a little, his gaze sharp, almost curious.
"I've suspected it for a while," he finally purred. "But there really is more to you than one would guess at first glance. Maybe you should seriously consider a career change."
"No, thank you." Helios's voice was calm—almost too calm. He walked over to the sink, turned on the water, and began washing his hands. "I have enough to do with my current position. And there's still plenty I want to learn."
"How does it feel?" Spider's tone softened, almost reverent. "You know… immortality?"
Helios watched the water run over his fingers. "I don't feel any different than usual," he replied. "But it offers a great deal of potential, and it would be a shame to leave that potential unused."
For a while, silence filled the room. The sound of running water faded as Helios turned off the tap and dried his hands.
"I still can't make you immortal, Spider."
"I know," he sighed. Then he ruffled his hair in frustration. "But I'd really like to be. Eternity sounds pretty fun with you around."
Helios rolled his eyes.
"For me, that would be hell itself—and that's saying something, considering I don't even believe in such nonsense."
Spider chuckled quietly. Helios returned his smile.
"Besides, I'm not alone. Dante's with me."
"You think he'll accept your little hobby?"
"No."
"Then it's only a matter of time before he's had enough of you," Spider said with a shrug.
"Who says I have to keep doing this?" Helios said with a cool smile. "Maybe I'll manage just fine without my little murders now that my father's dead."
Spider stepped closer until he was standing right in front of him.
"Liar," he said with a grin. "You'll never live without death."
Helios pushed Spider back with a faint smile and patted him lightly on the shoulder.
"Don't forget to clean up before you leave."
"A promise is a promise. I'll make sure no one ever finds that guy again," Spider sighed, though a knowing smile played at his lips.
Spider had begged to be allowed to watch him torture and kill the doctor, and Helios had agreed only so Spider would clean up after him. He had accepted the deal reluctantly. Still, he had to admit quickly that Spider was an important component he couldn't easily ignore.
At least that spared Dante the task of carrying the dead doctor out of this cellar.
So it had only been a small sacrifice.
With that, Helios turned and left the room where he had just not only tortured but also killed a man.
"Enjoy your vacation!" Spider called after him.
Helios climbed the stairs. Outside, the night was clear and still. Dante was waiting in front of the small bunker, his gaze turned toward the star-strewn sky.
"You finished faster than I expected," Dante said.
"I could hardly wait to finally get going," Helios replied.
He stepped into Dante's arms and pressed himself close. Dante's arms wrapped around him, pulling him tightly against his chest. Helios closed his eyes in contentment. He savored the moment — the warmth of Dante's body, the scent of his skin.
"So, you finally got everything done that you wanted to?" Dante asked softly.
Helios nodded.
"At least the urgent things." Helios smiled, easing slightly out of the embrace. "I can't wait to see the sea in daylight."
Dante grinned. "You're as excited as a kid."
"Thanks to you, I'm freer than I've ever been," Helios whispered. He traced a finger along Dante's chest, his gaze lifting — glowing. "And I'm looking forward to doing a few things with you that we won't have to hide anymore."
Dante's eyes darkened, grew warmer. He leaned down until only a breath separated their lips. "Sounds like you've already made some plans."
"Let's just say I'm in the mood to experiment." Helios's voice was low and velvety before he closed the last few centimeters and kissed him.
"Let's get out of here," he whispered. "I want to finally leave this place behind."
Dante smiled against his lips. "As you wish. But I've got a few plans of my own for you."
Helios grinned, took his hand, and squeezed it tightly. "Then we shouldn't waste any time."
"We have all the time in the world," Dante said softly, letting Helios pull him along.