Music recommendation: Bury A Friend – Acoustic mix by Ember Trio on Spotify.
"Get up!"
Cold water splashed over Lyra's face, shocking her nerves. She coughed the excess water that managed to slip into her nose. She slowly gets up, void of emotion and eerily quiet. Her gaze was set on the lifeless body on the floor in front of her, the two guards examining her friend before one of them spoke.
"Hmph, guess the little bitch didn't make it after all?" the demon guard tsked, disappointed in another failed subject. He nudged the body for Aria's head to shift to the side. Lyra's brow twitched but remained silent, her expression cold.
The other guard motioned Lyra to step out as he approached her and nudged her to move, and she obliged their demands. The air in the cell was starting to smell, and with the body slowly decomposing, Lyra's eyes remained fixed on her friend as she walked past her. Facing forward once her cell was out of sight, she was led by the two guards out to the torture chamber for another round of torment.
The door opened, welcoming Lyra to Belfor's figure standing by the table, his lips pulled in a Cheshire yellow smile. He was delighted to see Lyra's broken-spirited state. The men dragged her battered body into the room, he motioned them to string her up by the hook at the center of the room before he dismissed them.
Her feet dangled above the floor as Lyra's shackles dug into her scabbed wrists, drawing blood from the old wounds as the gravity of her weight pulled. She let a shallow breath through her nose as her eyes lay vacant, facing forward.
"We have barely started the fun, don't quit now." Belfor teased, provoking Lyra to rile her fear like the other poor souls trapped here. Stalking towards his prey, grabbing a fistful of her black hair, yanking it hard to have her eyes face his ugly face.
"Where's that sharp tongue of yours?" he sneered.
A harsh slap from his other hand stung her cheek. Blood dripped from the corner of her lips; surprisingly, she gave no reaction, and Belfor grew more displeased. Inciting another slap with the back of his hand. Lyra ran her tongue over her inner cheek before she spat blood on the floor. Her gaze led back to his eyes, and her eyes turned sharp.
"Now, there's that spark I was looking for." He goaded.
Satisfied for now, he loosened his grip around Lyra's scalp as he returned to the toys he wanted to inflict on her. Picking up a blood-crusted knife, he turned around to face her, a glint in his eyes as his smile widened.
"Perhaps carving out your pretty eyes would bring great pleasure in exchange for what you almost did," he threatened. Pointing the tip of the blade towards her iris, she wasn't fazed by the threat.
"But not yet; you need to take your dose before we continue our time together."
Placing the knife down, he brought the ominous goblet, filled with the black substance that seemed to bubble at its surface. Lyra's gaze didn't break from Belfor's grotesque frame as he wobbled over, his belly bouncing in his stride.
Clutching her jaw to open forcefully, he eased the goblet to her swollen lips, tipping the contents to pour down her throat. To his surprise, she didn't fight it. Her throat bobbed as she guzzled down the dark liquid to the last drop.
Lyra's tongue poked slightly from her lips, licking the remaining black liquid staining them before returning a coy smile to her tormentor. Belfor was shocked but was captivated by the temptress. She tilted her head to the side, lifting her knee to have her calf grace the side of his leg sensually. He thought that the cold air in the room had started to rise, or maybe it was just him. He was aroused by the flirtatious act and bewitched by her tantalizing eyes.
He never had his way with her, yet. He took pleasure in inflicting pain and sorrow on his victims. Troy was explicit on not to do more than necessary to this woman, especially to the women that man deemed his favorite—' his plaything,' he calls them. Belfor was jealous of how the women would willingly go to that handsome devil despite the false paradise he promised them. Who would've thought this vixen before his eyes wanted him?
Belfor was enticed by the web Lyra spun. He failed to notice her height raised above his head. She clenched her fists tight, pulling herself up till her head leveled to her wrists as she wrapped her legs around his neck.
"…!"
His eyes bulged, things escalated more quickly than he anticipated, his face pressed against her crotch. Elated by the suggestive stunt, she pulled, only to feel a little disoriented by the lack of air he was being suffocated.
Belfor dug his claws into Lyra's thighs, trying to pry himself off her. He managed to squeeze his head above her thighs for air, shifting his whole body around to escape from her clutches only to be held back once more into a choke hold by her legs once more, reeling him back to her trap.
His red-skinned face began to turn purple, squinting his eyes from the pressure. The unknown strength this bitch possessed was impossible. The days these women spent here rendered them powerless, weak, and broken. It was inconceivable! The hold on his neck tightened as he tried clawing at her pale skin, drawing blood.
"G-Guards! Ack—!"
The air escaping his lips, Belfor struggled as he called out to the demons outside. With a bone-cracking sound, his body slumps to the ground with a loud thud. The two guards from earlier, hearing the commotion from inside, open the door only to be stunned to see Belfor collapsed on the floor with his head twisted at an odd angle and the person responsible for his demise curling her lips into a pleased expression.
Sensing the newcomers, Lyra lifted her gaze to the baffled men. Her eyes looked more taunting than alluring. She felt content with the work she had done but thirsted for more. The taste in her mouth from the liquid tasted bitter, but the vengeance she craved made it all sweeter.
Before the guards stepped closer to Lyra to ascertain her, a voice rang behind them at the door, making everyone speechless.
"See, this is why you don't lead with your dick," Troy scoffed.
Stepping forward, passing between the two guards who remained stunned by the scene before them, Troy approached Lyra in slow strides. Glancing over to the bulging fool lying on the floor who resembled a pig, he rolled his eyes.
"You didn't have to get rid of him, you know. We could've had some fun together."
Lyra's eyes met Troy's, a mix of defiance and satisfaction in her gaze. She remained silent, not giving in to his provocation.
Troy chuckled, circling her slowly. "You're a feisty one. I'll give you that. Belfor was supposed to break you, not the other way around."
The guards, finally recovering from their shock, moved to restrain Lyra. Swiftly, Troy gestured for them to stand down. "Leave us," he commanded, and they hesitated momentarily before complying, closing the door behind them.
Troy leaned against the table, studying Lyra with an amused expression. "Most women in here break within days, but not you. What's your secret?"
Lyra maintained her silence, her eyes narrowing at Troy. She was determined not to give him the satisfaction of knowing her thoughts.
Troy chuckled again, standing up straight. "Well, I suppose it doesn't matter. You've certainly made things more interesting. Belfor was a tool, replaceable, but you..." He trailed off, his gaze lingering on her.
Troy sighed, shaking his head. "You're playing a dangerous game, my dear. But I like danger."
He circled her once more before stopping in front of her, his finger tilting her chin to meet his gaze. "You might be the most interesting one yet. I'm almost tempted to keep you for myself."
A shiver ran down Lyra's spine, but she maintained her composure, her eyes reflecting a silent defiance.
Troy released her chin, stepping back. "For now, consider yourself free from Belfor's torment. But remember, you're still in my realm. Behave, and maybe, just maybe, you'll find a way out of this hell."