Everlastingly Loving You - Chapter 56

[WARNING: GORY DESCRIPTIONS]

“Before I die in the dungeons, one last thing.”

“You must really have fallen for her if you’d do this all for her,” he laughed, blood dripping down his broken jaw.

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Once visiting hours were over, Louis, Julia and Nicholas retreated to the Sanguisian palace, which had been upped in security once the two monarchs were aware of what had happened at their home.

Louis and Julia had been staying there during the last two weeks, visiting Sophia often, but it wasn’t as near as frequently as Nicholas did.

Whilst he blamed it on his guilt, which wasn’t actually the case, he’d visited her daily. He’d tried to keep it on the down low, although news spread fast. It wasn’t too long before Julia was aware of Nicholas visiting her granddaughter, something she had absolutely no qualms with. Nicholas was to be trusted – even though Louis didn’t share the sentiment.

Nicholas was relieved Sophia hadn’t discovered his visits; he hadn’t the slightest idea as to how he’d explain himself either.

It was a chilly, gloomy night at the Sanguisian palace, especially for one Nicholas Ambrose, who decided to pay a little visit to the Sanguisian palace dungeons.

To sum it up, the dungeons were dark, dreary, and didn’t leave much to one’s imagination. Its cells were mostly empty – most prisoners were either executed for the crimes they’d done or had died due to the harsh conditions of the Sanguisian dungeons.

What’s also to be known is that the dungeons were only accessible to senior royals only.

The one criminal that’d been imprisoned in the dungeons knew what was coming for him. As the sound of footsteps grew closer, he cowered.

He passed a couple of empty cells which were once filled with prisoners and criminals. His footsteps echoed down the hallway before he came to a stop.

“You’re finally here,” the man said, rocking back and forth.

It was astounding how different someone could change in a span of a mere two weeks.

Across Nicholas was a weak and frail man, whose hair had greyed from dust and dirt, and wore torn and tattered clothing.

No one would’ve realized it was King Bartholomew, or rather, what was left of him.

There were markings all over the cell walls; Barry had counted the number of days he’d stayed in the dungeons, and written his plans to escape there, which eventually led to madness.

“No,” Bartholomew refused, shaking his head.

“No,” he repeated.

Nicholas calmly rolled up his dress shirt’s sleeves. He didn’t say a word. He was as quiet as ever.

From his pocket, he withdrew a key that could unlock Barry’s cell.

Bartholomew knew what was coming. He moved away, extremely terrified.

Nicholas kept calm and collected, showing a small smile.

It’d started ever since he’d proposed to Sophia. He’d held it in, but he didn’t need to now.

His inner demons had been clawing their way out, and finally, they’d been willingly released.

Barry managed to form a coherent sentence, “C-can’t w-we talk about this?”

Nicholas had already made it to his cell mere minutes later. Bartholomew heard his heart thumping in his ears. This was it. The end for him.

He’d already lost his kingdom to his brother Caspian, as well as his sanity, what else? His life?

Nicholas with an evil glint in his eyes, raised his brow, resisting a smirk fighting its way to his lips.

“You hurt her, and you’re going to pay. If you think there’s anything you can say that’ll change my mind, think otherwise,” he said, his teeth gritted.

He punched Bartholomew one time, knocking out a couple of his teeth. Blood streamed down his mouth.

Bartholomew cried, “Stop, stop, stop!”

“I’ll do anything!” He yelled.

He barely had the energy to do anything else but yell and try to defend himself whilst Nicholas rained hellfire down upon him.

“Please, I’m begging you, stop!” Bartholomew pleaded.

“Just end it!” He begged, now on his knees.

Bartholomew was crying, or trying to.

On the dungeon’s cold stone floors, a huge pool of blood. Bartholomew’s.

He had bruises on his face; his shoulders had been dislocated, and there were wounds all over his knees. His lungs had caved in, his nose had been punched one too many times, it was surely broken. He could no longer feel his face, and his whole body ached and throbbed.

His tattered clothing was soaked in blood, and his entire body was covered in blood as well.

To say it hurt like hell was a major understatement. Dying felt better than this. He could barely even see whatever was in front of him.

“I can’t take it anymore!” He wailed, his voice echoed down the empty hallway.

Nicholas stayed silent. He used his handkerchief to wipe any excess blood off his knuckles, hand and shoes. He didn’t break a sweat. His few hours of bloodlust had come to an end, fortunate for Bartholomew.

“Kill me!” Bartholomew begged once more, clinging onto Nicholas’ pant sleeve. Oh, how people changed after being tortured.

Nicholas kicked him away in disgust. You’d discover how deep someone had gone down the path of evil if they’d beg and plead shamelessly to be killed rather than face the mere consequences of his terrible actions.

He didn’t ask Bartholomew for an apology, he didn’t seem the type to regret whatever he’d done nor would he ever.

“You’re fortunate she woke up,” Nicholas told him, as he rolled back his sleeves.

“Or you wouldn’t have,” he said, stepping on Bartholomew’s right hand, crushing it under his leather sole.

Bartholomew screamed, unable to do anything as he felt immense pain.

Hearing his screams, Nicholas crushed Bartholomew’s hand firmer, a smirk crept its way to Nicholas’ lips.

The screams and wails of Bartholomew could be heard all the way from the dungeons as night fell upon the kingdom of Sanguis.

Two people had been held at gunpoint, but it wasn’t them who had ended up facing the worst fate.