Eli: Hey, sorry to keep you all waiting! Here's the next chapter. Enjoy!
The first thing Gabriel noticed when he woke up was that he was not at home. The second thing he noticed was that he was chained to a wall in some dungeon. The last thing he noticed was that Jesse was chained to the wall across from him. She was yet to come to.
He got up off his knees and winced from pain. His legs were killing him. And it felt as if an elephant had charged over his head. He briefly remembered seeing a dash of black before BAM! Lights out.
The dungeon was dark and creepy. It reminded him of the chambers in which Queen Isabella held the inquisition. The few objects he could make out horrified him. A rack, an iron maiden. He would give anything just to be out of here right now.
Suddenly, a door to his right opened up. The light blinded him and he closed his eyes till the door was closed again. When he opened his eyes, he saw a sickening, graying man hunched over him. The man had a cane and looked so ancient. His ice cold blue eyes glared at Gabriel. His jaw dropped when he realized who it was.
Kenneth Irons.
"Such youth, wasted, on such an undeserving life force." Irons muttered, his voice now cracked and ragged.
"You fucking bastard! Where the hell did you take us?" Gabriel screamed out.
"You are in a subterranean chamber below my mansion. I hope you are accustomed to the dark, because you will never see the light of day again." Irons replied coldly. Gabriel spat in his face.
Irons wiped his face. "Ian, why don't you teach young Mr. Bowman a lesson?"
Gabriel saw only a shadow come to life as he was struck across his face. He heard what could only be described as the laugh of a jackal come forth from the darkness. Irons smirked at him. Gabriel glared up at him.
"What the hell do you want with me?"
Irons tilted his head to the side, looking mockingly confused. "You? Who said I wanted you?"
Irons hobbled over to where Jesse was chained. He placed his aged, liver spotted hand on her forehead.
"Twenty four years ago, I met a model by the name of Clarice Thompson. She found me charming and amiable. I found her anorexic, idiotic, and crude. But I also found her valuable to the fact that she was a distant relative of Elizabeth Bronte. She was gone soon enough, but not before being blessed in a very special way."
Gabriel's eyes went wide. It couldn't be! There was no way! "No!"
Irons smirked again. He managed to straighten his back. Causing pain to others always did give him energy. "Yes, Mr. Bowman. Your beloved is my daughter! And not only that, but she is a female descendent of the bloodline."
"You want her to wield the witchblade! She won't do it!" Irons laughed. He took his hand off Jesse, who was still dead to the world.
"Yes, she won't wield it. I will, but with her body."
"No! You can't!"
"Oh, but I can! I used you, I used my only son. Why not use my daughter? Make her miserable existence worth something?" He croaked out. Each word was like poison to Gabriel as he was helpless in this matter, no matter how hard he tried. But that didn't mean give up.
"You bastard! You won't do this!" He shouted. Irons sighed.
"Ian, he has been talking quite long enough."
Gabriel was hit again by the evil shadow and slung to the ground unconscious once again.
The first thing Gabriel noticed when he woke up was that he was not at home. The second thing he noticed was that he was chained to a wall in some dungeon. The last thing he noticed was that Jesse was chained to the wall across from him. She was yet to come to.
He got up off his knees and winced from pain. His legs were killing him. And it felt as if an elephant had charged over his head. He briefly remembered seeing a dash of black before BAM! Lights out.
The dungeon was dark and creepy. It reminded him of the chambers in which Queen Isabella held the inquisition. The few objects he could make out horrified him. A rack, an iron maiden. He would give anything just to be out of here right now.
Suddenly, a door to his right opened up. The light blinded him and he closed his eyes till the door was closed again. When he opened his eyes, he saw a sickening, graying man hunched over him. The man had a cane and looked so ancient. His ice cold blue eyes glared at Gabriel. His jaw dropped when he realized who it was.
Kenneth Irons.
"Such youth, wasted, on such an undeserving life force." Irons muttered, his voice now cracked and ragged.
"You fucking bastard! Where the hell did you take us?" Gabriel screamed out.
"You are in a subterranean chamber below my mansion. I hope you are accustomed to the dark, because you will never see the light of day again." Irons replied coldly. Gabriel spat in his face.
Irons wiped his face. "Ian, why don't you teach young Mr. Bowman a lesson?"
Gabriel saw only a shadow come to life as he was struck across his face. He heard what could only be described as the laugh of a jackal come forth from the darkness. Irons smirked at him. Gabriel glared up at him.
"What the hell do you want with me?"
Irons tilted his head to the side, looking mockingly confused. "You? Who said I wanted you?"
Irons hobbled over to where Jesse was chained. He placed his aged, liver spotted hand on her forehead.
"Twenty four years ago, I met a model by the name of Clarice Thompson. She found me charming and amiable. I found her anorexic, idiotic, and crude. But I also found her valuable to the fact that she was a distant relative of Elizabeth Bronte. She was gone soon enough, but not before being blessed in a very special way."
Gabriel's eyes went wide. It couldn't be! There was no way! "No!"
Irons smirked again. He managed to straighten his back. Causing pain to others always did give him energy. "Yes, Mr. Bowman. Your beloved is my daughter! And not only that, but she is a female descendent of the bloodline."
"You want her to wield the witchblade! She won't do it!" Irons laughed. He took his hand off Jesse, who was still dead to the world.
"Yes, she won't wield it. I will, but with her body."
"No! You can't!"
"Oh, but I can! I used you, I used my only son. Why not use my daughter? Make her miserable existence worth something?" He croaked out. Each word was like poison to Gabriel as he was helpless in this matter, no matter how hard he tried. But that didn't mean give up.
"You bastard! You won't do this!" He shouted. Irons sighed.
"Ian, he has been talking quite long enough."
Gabriel was hit again by the evil shadow and slung to the ground unconscious once again.