The torch flickered as whispers filled the small passage, the cobblestones illuminated only by the wavering light. Standing in a line, they were shackled to a long chain that could easily be mistaken for an arrow in flight, the metal taut and unyielding before the naked flame.
Men, women and a few small and disheveled children slowly shuffled forward, their ankles chained together. Not that any of them could escape. Some of the men had backs as raw as the hides that they slept in, and the women were not much better. Some of their compatriots had even died on the journey here, falling dead on the streets. Most regarded them as the lucky ones.
Two figures guarded the prisoners, one on each end. Each wore long cloaks, twisting around their body in an arc. Underneath, one could see hints of bronze amour which ran all the way down to their feet, one made out of bronze and the other resembling a donkey's. On top, the light mingled with their flaming hair, creating a visage so bright that it seemed almost like a halo. But these figures were no angels.
They were Empousa. Creatures responsible for the myth of the vampire. Each had the face of a young woman, and would've looked just as comely if not for their vicious fangs, jutting out of their mouths. They looked almost like an oversized antelope, but they guarded the prisoners well, poking and prodding with their spears when the line failed to move. They wore two keys each, hanging from their belts. One was for the manacles, the other for the great chain that connected the prisoners to each other.
One turned just as one of the prisoners entering the room ahead stumbled and fell, his battered knees gripping the stone floor. She hissed, and bronze flew through the air as she kneed his falling back, sending the back of her spear into the man's head. He let out a cry, but the other prisoners only stiffened, eyes averting from the fallen man. "Pl-Please...," his veins bugled like a balloon and froth came out of his mouth. The tattered cloth that served as his shirt shifted in the light, shining on the various red lines that made up his back. The Empousa's face twisted in a manner that could be said to be a smile, and her fingers slowly turned the spear so that the tip faced forwards.
The prisoners ahead had stopped to see what was going on, their expression filled with horror as they saw the man lying on the ground. But at the behest of the second guard, none dared to intervene. They had seen what had happened to those that had tried. So, they moved on while the second Empousa shoved the spear forward and plunged it into the fallen's man head. Before the rest could even flinch, blood sprayed out in a flash, denting the stone wall with flecks of flesh and blood splatters. The prisoners marching behind stopped, none daring to move an inch until the Empousa waved the bloody spear and barked out an order. Soon, the chain was moving again, and the dead man's body was left behind, head and all lying by the wayside.
One of the prisoners stopped. If only for a moment, the figure knelt downwards and touched his fingers to the dead man's head. The people behind stared incredulously at him, but he paid them no heed. The rear Empousa, upon seeing him kneeling, crashed the butt of her spear into his head, sending him sprawling. The other prisoners didn't speak, although they seemed surprised when the figure got up almost immediately, his face leaning close to the Empousa as he stood.
He didn't bear any sort of expression on his face, even though a slight trickle of blood had began dripping from the back of his head. Quickly turning around, he looked downwards and began walking, the rest followed suit. Soon, they reached a heavy door that was barred by a metal pole that would've taken ten men to carry. The rear Empousa moved forwards, joining the one at the front as she began hissing. They were clearly annoyed at how long it was taking to open. But the figure did not care about that. Opening his eyes, he spat the two keys that he had taken from the Empousa into his manacled hands, taking care not to drop them. Quickly taking them open, he set to work on the chain connecting him to the rest of the prisoners.
They quickly noticed what he was doing, and looks of horror appeared on their faces. It was one thing to try your luck against an Empousa, but to openly defy them like this... One whispered as the lock began to give way, " Stop! Please.., you'll get us all killed. And for no reason too." The figure ignored them, unclasping the lock to his legs and stepping out of the chain. He wore nothing but rags, yet he was willing to take on two Empousa. The other prisoners probably thought he was crazy.
He had deep blue eyes, but they held no expression as he silently stepped forwards. His blonde hair was sweaty, the pain from the spear starting to fade. Even for him, that had been a hard blow to take. Each of his senses had told him to avoid it, but he had taken it anyway. It was the only way he could've stolen the keys. Looking forward, the second Empousa had just begun to turn around, some sort of instinct warning her as he sprang forwards, crossing the distance in a single spring.
Startled, she aimed a clumsy thrust straight at his head. The had clearly not anticipated any form of resistance. He ducked, the spear whistling past his blonde hair. Before she could pull it back for another strike, he gripped it with both hands and wrenched it out of her grasp. The Empousa sprang back, hissing. Now he had a weapon. But the second one was already running forwards.
This one held a net in her other hand. Grinning, her features mixing with the flame on top of her, she threw it at him as she lunged with her spear. The figure looked up at the net, his feet dancing past it as he met her strike. Moving slightly to the side as the thrust came, the Empousa's spear passed harmlessly by his side, but he had got inside her guard. In one thrust, the celestial bronze pierced through her flesh and she withered, the metal anathema to any sort of monster flesh.
It took only a moment for her essence to vanish, and the figure leaned backwards as the other Empousa, derived of her weapon, tried to rake him with her talons. Blocking with the shaft of the spear, he twisted it and in much the same way she had did to him, slammed it into the center of her chest. She gasped with the blow, talons gripping her stomach as the figure stepped away. He couldn't kill her, not yet. Between ragged breaths, she managed to get out a word. " H-Ha-Half...Half-blood...," the figure didn't respond to her words, but the fingers around the spear tightened.
It hadn't been long since he had heard the word, but as always, it brought up a stream of memories. Dark, terrible memories. His nerves felt like they were being branded with hot iron, and he took a deep breath. Not now, he had a job to do. Suppressing his fury, he kicked the Empousa in the shins and sent her crashing face down onto the floor. The face of a pleading, human girl met him as he hefted the spear, eyes begging for mercy. No. He suppressed a smile, he remembered teaching them that, thinking that it would serve effective against merciful half-bloods like one Percy Jackson, but to see it used against him...
He reached out with his fingers and gripped her throat, dropping the spear in the process. "Where is the vault?" The pleading orbs of the teenage girl changed into the fiery red ones of a monster as the Empousa withered under his touch, trying to break free. The figure held firm, his fingers tightening ever so slowly. "Tell me, and I'll let you live. Else..." She saw him eyeing the spear. By this point, the prisoners had surrounded him as a unit, and they looked on with a mixture of horror and grim satisfaction as he choked the monster. They had tormented them for long enough.
Maybe it was some form of self-preservation in the face of impending death, maybe this Empousa in particular felt no loyalty or love towards Kronos, but whatever it was, it was enough to make her choke out the words. "Thr-Three...stairwells...down, near the Tita-n..'s quarters, some..where in there, never check-ed..." The fingers around her throat let go, and despite being a monster, her head sagged in relief. They might be immortal, but reformation was a painful, painful task.
She looked up just in time to see her bronze spear crashing into her head, tearing her skull in half and turning the rest into pure essence. Flames danced on the stone floor, the remnants of the Empousa's flaming hear. The figure didn't look back.
Putting a hand on the cobblestones, the man lifted himself onto the ground. Listening for of the children started crying, but they were shushed by their mothers as the figure got to his feet. Some didn't have one, so several woman made do as best they could. Even so, each had heavy lines and their faces were mattered with dirt, bruises and in some cases, blood. They looked close to exhaustion, but the man approached them with a grim smile.
"I'm sorry to have brought this on to you, but you should know that patrols will soon be coming. They definitely know that something's gone wrong." His words elected a chorus of groans from the massed people.
"How could you do this to us? They wanted to kill us before, now imagine what they'll do to us once they've found us huddling next to two missing guards." Some pointed accusatory fingers at the man, trying to rush at him in their anger before the chain that held their legs snapped them back.
How ungrateful, they don't even acknowledge you saving them... The man shook his head, hands gripping his chest. No, definitely not now.For a moment, he considered leaving them altogether. His mission was far more important then saving some people destined for a life of servitude and death.
From his observations, he could tell that a patrol would seen pass by their area. They made no effort to be subtle, and why would they? They were invincible here, this was their fortress, their symbol of might. He would be looking to change that. Looking again at the prisoners, he sighed. He had been the one to save them, but also the one to doom them. Better to die free than a slave though...
Their already dead.., it'll make no difference what you do now.
He had no more time. But he wouldn't leave them. That was why he was even standing here in the first place. "I'll leave you the keys. What you choose to them is up to you. I can delay the patrols, but the rest is up to you." He tossed the keys onto the lap of the nearest prisoners, and by the time they descended upon it like a pack of rabid dogs, he was gone.