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Chapter 7 Necros

Darkness consumed the room, and the coolness of the air send a chill throughout the spy’s body. He was chained to the wall by his wrist and his arms stretched from east to west. His hands dangled from his cuffs as he sat down with his head downward and dried up blood covered his clothes as sweat dripped from his face. The clothes on his back were torn up, and bruises and cuts covered his arms. His eyes drooped as a weight pulled, and then they shut.

The room went dim and punches swung into his torso. The spy gasped for air as the pain pulsed through his body, and a fist launched into his bruised eye. The spy swung his fist, but the chains pulled his arms. The cuffs cut his skin, and he yelled.

People in wooden happy and sad masks kicked him in the stomach.

He coughed and gasped for air, bleeding from his wounds onto his shirt and it dripped from his mouth.

The masked men stopped and stood as they wrote a message on a board. The board was turned for the spy to read the message and he frowned and yelled insults at the masked men as spit flew out of his mouth. The room went pitch black after the insults. Thirty minutes passed, and the masked men returned, beating him when the room went dim again.

It was five days of darkness, beatings, and no human contact. The spy’s stomach growled, and he swallowed his spit inside his dry mouth. He licked his chapped lips and spoke gibberish in the darkness as his limbs tingled and shook.

Whispers echoed in his head, and he shook the chains hoping they would break. He jerked the chain, imagining the locks breaking, but they didn’t break. He wept and said, “Please, Pleeease. Let me go!”

In the midst of the darkness, lights showed from a few candles, and white gloves carried them. The darkness hid everything else, and distorted noises echoed in the dark room.

The spy’s muscles stiffened as he gripped the chains. A female child giggled, and his heart pounded. The candles moved closer to the spy, and the white masks on their faces were faint. The masks had the same sinister grin as the chrome masks he saw.

The faces disappeared and reappeared into the darkness. They randomly reappeared in different areas of the dark room, but only one remained fixed in its position, and it stepped closer to the spy.

The spy trembled and said, “Please! I beg of youuuu. Please stop.” He cried and said, “What do you want from me? What do you want?” He started to laugh nervously and said, “This isn’t real. It’s just a dream. This isn’t reality. I’m dreaming.” He giggled and said, “It’s just a dream. It’s just a dream.”

The person in the white masks stood and wrote on a white board with a black marker. The marker scratched against the board, and it turned the board for him to read the message.

He finished reading it, and something laughed in the darkness. His jaw dropped, and his whole body trembled. His hands shook and rattled the chains as the cuffs cut his wrist. His eyes broaden, and he saw flashes of light sparking on and off as saliva ran from his mouth.

He was unaware that he’d been knocked out for a couple of hours and the room was pitch dark again. He said, “Have mercy on me. I’ll tell you anything you want to know. Just please, please set me free... Hello... Hello?”

It was silent and the chains laid on the floor. The spy moved his legs and arms, and nothing restrained him. He chuckled and leaped for joy, scratching his head and thinking, I never saw them set me free.

He searched for an escape in the darkness and his arms stretched with his hands in front of him. His skin crawled as he walked in the dark room, hoping nothing was there with him, and he touched the wall, walking around the perimeter. As he continued walking, he rubbed his hands on the surface, and his fingers brushed against deep scratches. He moved toward the cold door knob and twisted it, but it didn’t open. The spy banged on the door, but no one answered, so he ran and tackled the door, but it didn’t break open. The pain pulsed through his shoulders and he wondered again in hopes of another exit.

The spy touched the walls and moved throughout the perimeter for hours. He was joyful to find another door, but as he rubbed his hands against it, he felt the same deep scratches. He pulled his hair and yelled. He said, “Let me out. Please let me out.” The spy beat against the door, but no one answered, and he fell on his knees, lying on the floor and rolling around the room as tears fell.

The door opened and shut and the spy stopped rolling. His mouth hung and said, “Who’s there?” He stood and looked for the walls, bumping into the door and touching the knob. As he turned the knob, it twisted, and he laughed while he opened it, but someone on the other side slammed it shut. It clicked, and the spy twist, but it was locked again. He yelled from the top of his lungs and struck the door, kicking and throwing his body on it as he cried.

Something nudged his body like a shark in the ocean, and it bumped into him again. The spy shook and said, “Who’s ... who’s there? Who’s there?” His body tingled, and his limbs trembled. “I’m not crazy. Nothing’s here. It’s just a bad dream.”

Something pushed him to the cement floor, and the spy’s body vibrated in fear. He yelled and said, “This isn’t real. It must be a dream. I want to wake up. Please, Somebody, wake me up.” Footsteps approached him, and he stood and ran with his hand in front of him, speaking words that made sense to him, but they were nothing but gibberish.

A cold blade struck the spy’s back, and he fell on the floor twitching. Hands grabbed his feet and dragged him against the cement. A scream echoed throughout the room, and it sounded like a helpless animal being slaughter by an unmerciful predator. The spy never realized that three hours passed since his encounter with the white masked figure and was unaware he already gave all the information he knew, including the Trioscepter’s secret.

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