Inside his bakery, Alex’s father, Samos, was pacing with both anger and worry, ”How could that boy be so damned foolish!” he swore, as he paced around the lobby of his meager store. Milda had just arrived moments before and informed him of what transpired with Alex and the young noblewoman.
Samos looked to his longtime friend, tears threatening to fall from his eyes as he asked, “Do ya recognize the noble house?”
Milda simply frowned; she didn’t know much of the nobles save the family that “owned” the land her husband worked. Needless to say she avoided them as much as was humanly possible. She looked to Samos, regretting her lacking knowledge a little now, "Nay Samos, I'm fraid I donno em. Ya know I wouldn’t be able to tell ye one house for another if I tried.”
"Ye, I know Milda, was worth a try," he said, driving down his urge to charge after the boy even now. Without knowing who or where they went, he just be wasting time, he needed to be calm now, panic would only do more harm. Taking deep breathes, forcing himself to calm. Had to be clear-headed if he wanted any chance to help his son. Samos knew the story smelled foul, and Alex was likely in real danger but did he have any real way to help his son against this?
“Laurence!" he shouted, an image of an old friend flashing in his mind. Laurence, an adventuring buddy from his younger more reckless days, retired from that life and he’d joined in the city guard. Been well liked and promoted a few times if Samos recalled correctly. Honestly his own stubborn attitude might’ve gotten in his way this time, he’d likely remembered him sooner if it hadn’t. Its not like Laurence was a stranger; hell he was basically an uncle to Alex.
Barely turning his head to Milda as he rushed out the door, “I’ve a friend in the guard, I know he’ll help!” he shouted, banging his head its frame on the way out. “Damned, too low, shit….” Samos cursed the pain as his voice faded down the alley. Sure this new addition would do little to help the headache he already had.
Milda shook her head in exacerbation as her friend out of, and into, the door of his own store, leaving her alone in it. “Well, suppose I can clean and lock it up just this once after I close up me own stall, but that boy will owe me!” She exclaimed halfheartedly. Hopping off the counter she was sitting on, she was soon walking down the ally as well, back to her stall. “Hope that guard friend of his can help, doubt that scene they caused went unnoticed, bettin’ they heard plenty,” She thought aloud. When she arrived at her stall, the aging woman rolled up her sleeves and got to work, brow furrowed with worry for a boy that was to her, no different than family.
***
I awoke to a chilling splash on my face, a throbbing headache, and felt something cutting into my wrists. "Finally awake, are we?" the faintly familiar voice sounded. Blinking several times, trying to clear away the heavy fog from my mind. I tried looking around, but could only take in a little information. It was hard to think at the moment, my mind felt groggy and my vision swayed and blurred. My wrists burned horribly and I couldn’t really feel my hands for some reason, not entirely sure why that was. After few more moments of me just trying to get my wits about me, I shook my head. This, as it turns out, was a really bad idea, the world spun severely and I blacked out.
After several moments, or was it hours? I honestly don’t know. I kept coming in and out of consciousness, before the fog clouding mind finally began to dissipate. With the slowly fading haze, came some realizations. Like I could make out the room I now stood, or more accurately in which I hung. (Because I was CHAINED to the FUCKING CEALING! Which, I guess, explained my wrist pain so there’s that.)
Orienting myself with the unfamiliar surroundings, what I saw was horrific, to say the least. Blood caked ‘things’ lie on a table to my right; a wood and iron door could barley be made out across from me in the torch-lit chamber. I recognized that door! Adrenaline rushed through my veins, quickly clearing my mind the rest of the way. This was the one Julia had lured me to!
Rage! Pure rage fueled me as I struggled and shook against the bonds holding me back. It proved futile, the iron rings and short chains held fast, surprisingly sturdy despite their heavy rust. Not that I’d let that stop me from trying. I also found in my desperate struggle that I was not doing so good. My feet dangled above the floor, my hands were numb, and every shake caused sharp pains in my head.
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After a few seconds of my chain rattling passed, a voice came from a darked corner of the room. "Yes, yes, struggle as you like, but you are not going anywhere. Not now, not ever.”
I knew that voice, I’d not known it long, but now I’d never forget it. A second, greater spike of rage hit me and I roared at the direction I heard her from. “Julia! What is this? What are you doing? Let. Me. Go!"
A sudden flash of light caught my eye, and a new pain instantly overtook my anger. Shouting first in agony and then horror as I looked down to my right leg; there now was a gnarled spike protruding from my flesh, bright red blood flowing freely from the wound. (That is probably going to leave a mark.)
It should be known that I was not a weak man nor weak-willed; being poorer than even common folk was not an easy life. I remember many days of hard work only to be rewarded with dinnerless nights. Plenty of sore muscles, cuts, and bruises from a long day's work too. Doing twice the job required due to worn-out tools or no tools at all on some occasions. I was no stranger to pain or suffering, but this was different; this had no reason, no purpose. This pain did not improve him or help him ration food; this pain only weakened and injured. This was pointless suffering.
Fighting through the burning sensation in my leg, I glared down at my attacker. What I saw was not the beautiful girl I met at my stall; this was not the Julia I knew. Yet, it was her, or perhaps I was finally seeing the real her.
Thrusting the end of this metal spike, the one that was currently sliding deeper into his thigh, was indeed the blond hair blued eyed girl I met on that street. However, the look on her face shattered the illusion of beauty she wore when I first saw her. She had an evil glare that perverted features I can’t believe I once thought beautiful. It was pure malice, pure hate, and pure evil. It made her almost unrecognizable to me. “I told you….not to shorten our names……you filthy commoner!” She screamed.
Julia let go of the vile instrument, leaving gravity to pull on the instrument worsening the wound she just made, which caused the skin to rip and the spike to scrape the bone. Gritting my teeth against the new wave of pain as it assailed my senses. It did not seem it would be letting up either; the spike was quite heavy and was slowly sliding out.
"Now, let us see,” she said in a cheerful tone, like a switch had flipped. She was eyeing the instruments on the table. "What shall we play with next? Hmmm," She watched me as if expecting an answer. After waiting a moment and not getting one, a small pout appeared on her face as she looked back at the tools. “I guess we will go with this then; I do favor it," she stated, giddily, as she picked up a dull looking knife with saw-like protrusions on its forearm length blade.
She smiled wickedly, head tilted awkwardly to the side as she walked towards him. "What, nothing to say?" she exclaimed.
I watched this scene unfold in horror, biting back another scream when the spike finally loosed itself from my leg. With a squelch and a pop it then fell to the floor making a loud pang. Julia glanced at the spike then gave me a unnatural smile. The smile she gave me was so horrid, so bone-chilling that I felt I was in the presence of real evil. I would, at that moment, swear she was a demon in the guise of a human. “Who, or what are you?” I said weakly, having, just barely, the energy to speak.
The Initial stab of pain had taken so much out of me; I was coming to realize how lucky I was to have my life before, hard as it was. How stupidly blind I was to think I could improve it overnight.
The only response to the inquiry was a shrill laugh and a slash from that nasty knife across my chest. Agony came for me again, with a vengeance. This knife did not cut my flesh, but rather it pulled, ripped, and tore like a starving beast. Thrice more, the slashes came at me, and thrice I screamed so loud my throat tore.
Julia was cackling crazily as she slashed at my chest violently. A final slash came, this one shredding my left arm from elbow to shoulder. With that attack the world went sideways as I passed out.
***
Samos finally arrived at the guardhouse; it took him nearly an hour to get there through Solands' ever crowded streets. Even with his rushed, near panicked pace, shouting manically all the way, he could not get people to move fast enough and was forced to slow himself to avoid running into people.
Solands main guardhouse was a barracks, jail, and training facility wrapped into one large, rather unimpressive looking building, built more for function than decorum.
When Samos rushed into the building, nearly crashing into a couple other visitors, a guard in full armor stopped him immediately. "Woah’ there friend, you can’t just rush in here without permission…..”. However, he dropped that matter upon seeing the obvious distress on the exhausted man's face. The guard asked, "What seems to be the problem?"
Samos caught his breath a bit before saying, "I need to speak to Guard Officer Laurence, tell him it involves Alex.”
The guard turned pale, he was a senior guard here, and he often heard the officer bragging about this boy before, as if he was his own son. "Right away, sir." He said, in a slight panic, "Officer Laurence is out training in the yard."