The Midnight Crime - Chapter 34

Sharp stings of pain shot up Cyan’s head as his captor fisted his hair with a jerk and dragged him out of the cellar. The bars clanged shut behind him and Cyan dimly heard Darius call a faint ‘please’ before he was thrown into a wall with full force. The bare stone split the skin on his forehead and a steady trickle of blood rolled down his face.

‘Where is it?’ he heard the man’s gruff voice, breathing stale air right into his face and he cringed involuntarily. ‘Where the fuck is the stone? Answer me.’

With his vision swimming, Cyan wheezed into a standing position and gasped, ‘I don’t know.’

He never heard the fist coming, but a punch hit his abdomen and he doubled onto himself, breathing harshly as his knees buckled.

The man grabbed him by the collar and the next moment Cyan was thrown into a chair, a loud clatter following his bruised fall. His entire body jolted and the chair tipped, but the man grabbed it before it could hit the ground.

Cyan opened his eyes as much as he could and looked around the room he was in. The area looked like a basement, which means he was previously in a sub-cellar of sorts. It was small and cramped, but bigger than the cell, and Cyan was grateful for the fresh air that greeted him, trying to breathe in a lungful.

A rusty copper pipe ran along the far wall, water dripping down the metal was a plunk that resounded in the empty space like the ticking of a time bomb. Cyan focused on the plopping, keeping his eyes on the beads of water as they rolled down the pipe.

He wondered what Shayma was doing, and if she had any idea her lover was locked inside a dingy basement so far away from the city.

As he glanced at the captor, his blood ran cold. The man was removing the dog leash from around his waist and Cyan shuddered at what was to happen to him next. If Jason, no, Falcon was here, he could’ve saved him, he knew the young man could take on this tall man easily.

Falcon gave you over to him, Cyan, he thought. Why would he try to help you?

A harsh finger dug into his chin and he was forced to look up, directly into the eyes of the kidnapper. ‘Why don’t my people report to me on time?’ the man shook him hard in frustration.

Another water droplet rolled down and Cyan focused on the tinkling it made, a soft melody he would have appreciated if circumstances had been different. A shiver ran down his spine as he processed the man’s words.

‘Your people?’ he gasped. ‘You have spies in the city?’

‘Of course.’ The man placed an iron fist in his hair and leaned real close this time, blowing hot air in his face. ‘Where did you hide the damn ring, you bastard?’ He slammed his head against the back of the chair and Cyan screamed, the shock of pain leaving him breathless and in pure agony. There had been a rusty nail where the man had slammed his head, which had driven inside his skull with full force at the impact.

‘You know. You know it’s a ring.’ Cyan moaned. The man had said ring and not the stone. How much did he actually know, and who were the spies. His blood ran cold at the thought; he had been going around with people who were working for this man.

‘Of course it’s a ring, you fool. Maybe Dill Yarrow was not as smart as he thought he was. Luckily, I dealt with him. Do you want to go the same way your dear little father went, now, do you?’

It was as if a volcano had erupted inside his body. Molten lava, hot and furious like a blaze shuddered through his veins, becoming an inferno which took control of him. Cyan realized he had gotten up from the chair, his hands wrapped around the man’s throat, trying to choke him to death.

The man was unaffected by his outburst. It was as if he was expecting him to lose his cool and he grabbed Cyan by the arm and twisted it until he was screaming. The anger, hurt and pain laced with desperation brought tears to his eyes, his parents’ murderer was standing right in front of him and he was unable to do a thing.

The man threw him into the chair, picking up the leash he had discarded on the floor. He grabbed his arms and starting tying him to the chair, the leash wrapping around his wrists and ankles and forming a ropy cage. The binds cut into his skin and he knew he was bleeding, a fearful coppery smell of fresh blood hitting his nose from the various wounds on his body.

His captor finished tying him and leaned in close. he spoke in a low, dangerous voice, ‘Now, where did you hide it?’

‘Why don’t you ask your men?’

Cyan saw the fist coming through the slightly open eyes. It was a bliss when his vision started to swim and he prayed for unconsciousness silently.

‘The stupid slayer girl and her boyfriend tried to trap me. You must pay for them.’ The man growled and Cyan saw him remove the silver blade from his waist. The knife was sharp and ugly, glinting in the dim light of the basement.

‘They are so brave.’ Cyan said.

‘Too bad for you.’

‘Courage always has a price.’

The man grabbed his arm and Cyan felt a rush of terror, as realization came to him. He kicked wildly, his restrained foot catching against the binds and ripping the skin of his ankle. The man slapped him hard across the face to stop him from resisting and splayed his palm on the chair’s arm.

Cyan let out a long howl, it was impossible to believe this was happening to him. The scream lingered, reverberating in the air and coming back to him like a helpless vessel’s cry of mayday.

The man placed a palm on his mouth and stopped, looking up for a second in fear. It gave Cyan hope that he was scared someone might hear them and he kicked more, biting the man’s palm and letting out another wail of despair.

Something was stuffed into his face and his howls choked. He could feel the rough gag in his throat, and realized it was the man’s bandanna.

‘Stay quiet.’ The man rasped in his ear.

Cyan struggled, throwing his head back as much as he could but he knew what had to come was coming. A heavy weight on his palm showed the man was pressing down on it. He shut his eyes, hoping for a miracle, something to save him when the man straightened his little finger and brought the blade down.

It was painless for a second as Cyan processed what happened. Then cold damp air hit the stump Cyan felt like someone had just zapped him electricity, a long drawn out scream clawing and choking at his throat. The pain came in droves, too agonizing, too insane to be real, but there all the same, making him emit shrieks that would have sounded like a banshee’s if not for the cloth in his mouth. He could no longer see, or feel anything, just the throbbing agony that was driving him crazy.

The blackness came and he wished for nothing more than to fall unconscious.. Cyan was thankful when the pain went away and relief came, albeit a few minutes but enough to make him lose touch on the monstrosity of the world and fall down a chasm of blissful unawareness.