A/N: So hi again... long time no see. I'm sorry I haven't been on for a long time, a lot of stuff has happened and I haven't been able to write that much but here it is :) Some dark stuff in this chapter, but I tried not to write any extreme violence but it is implied ;) I haven't checked for spellings so I'm really sorry if there are any
Chapter 41: There are no strings on me!
Cris blinked unsure of what to do or even what to think. So all she went with was: "Who are you?"
Now she really didn't expect she really didn't expect what he said next. His deep voice echoed through the study, bouncing off the walls, and practically sending waves of panic through Cris. She was even sure Rhys shivered slightly at the older man's tone.
"I am Meredydd Jones. Crisiant, I am your father," He said and Cris couldn't help but think he sounded a bit like Darth Vader saying that. "I don't have a father," Cris whispered under her breath not believing that the man sitting at the desk was in any way related to her. She didn't know how or why but something about the man rubbed her off the wrong way, something that only very few people could. Cris didn't even feel that way towards Rhys and he had kidnapped and paralysed her, so Cris definitely thought their was something Meredydd was hiding.
"No" Cris decided to voice after getting over the small amount of her that was completely petrified. "No, you are not my father and I have three brothers and you are not one of them," Cris got even louder as she spoke and she could see hurt flash across Meredydd's face but it went so quickly Cris doubted it ever occurred. And at the end of her sentence Rhys flinched so much so that she was nearly dropped.
She heard Rhys' breathing increase to the point he sounded a bit like an angered bull. Okay. so maybe that wasn't the best thing to say to the people who just kidnapped you. She tentatively looked up to him and his face had a look of extreme control. Cris could tell he was hiding strong emotions but she couldn't exactly tell what those were as the mask he had put on was very effective even to Cris.
Then, she slowly shifted her head so that she looked at Meredydd, who didn't even bother to hide the anger that was spread across his features, distorting them in a way that he didn't just look angry but utterly pissed. The whole calm and collected demeanor immediately disappeared and was replaced with an expression that made Cris freeze, not that it was actually possible because she was mostly paralysed but her head and neck froze in place unable to look away from the frightening sight.
Suddenly he stood up with such incredible force it sent the chair he was sitting on, back a couple of meters until it crashed into the wall, probably leaving dents in the brick surface. His taught body stood slightly lent over the ornate oak desk, tension filling it's every fibre. His hands, that were curled into tight fists, slammed into the table sending shock waves throughout the room as the sound reverberated off the walls, hitting Cris' ears with the immense force.
"Such disrespect to your family!" Meredydd almost screamed, his loud deep voice ingraining the words into Cris. "Do you know how much time, how much money, how much effort was put in to getting you out? And this! This is how you repay us?!" Cris was pretty sure he was sending tremors thought the house with the massive thumping his voice gave off.
The man lifted his fists off of the table to see two orange-sized dents in the solid wooden surface. Cris' eyes widened at this, noticing that it must have taken some serious force to create the deep dents and serious anger to quell the pain he would have felt.
Suddenly he started walking over to them, power and strength radiating off him with every stride, which if that didn't intimidate her enough; the look in his eyes made her want to make a break for it and run for her life.
"Rhys," He started his voice eerily calm. "Taking Crisiant, downstairs. I will be there in a minute" He then looked from Rhys, who Cris realised was almost the spitting image of Meredydd, to her, his eyes seeming to bore into her own. "I have some things I need to get," His voice was sinister and full of meaning. What the meaning was, she had no clue but Cris knew it wouldn't be good, especially for herself.
"But Father," Rhys started in an almost pleasing voice but his father cut in before he could say anymore. "You will do as I say, Rhys unless you want to suffer the same fate as your dear sister!" His menacing tone and sneering voice left Cris in a state of utter fear.
Rhys slowly turned around, hesitating slightly before taking the short few steps to the door and swinging it open. Rhys sighed while walking down the halls and Cris noticed he wasn't going at his excited slightly fast pace he was before, this time he was walking slowly as if he didn't want to go there. And to be honest, Cris didn't want to find out why he was so hesitant.
But she still asked the question: "What is going to happen to me?" Cris asked in a small voice. She had no idea why she was confiding in him or even that she let herself show even the littlest bit of weakness because she had never liked to show weakness even if no one was watching. So why was she suddenly trusting the man who kidnapped her? Maybe it was because he was her actual brother, not that she believed it but Cris couldn't deny the fact they looked slightly alike but then Cris and Izzy looked alike and they weren't siblings.
She sighed, trying to push back the urge to cry back at the thought of her friends, she felt so bad about everything that happened lately and the fact that Cris was now unable to see them or even speak to them made the feeling worse.
"There's nothing I can do, I'm sorry," He finally replied his voice small and seeming full of regret. Cris was slightly confused as to why he would regret it but then she got over her slight mental lapse realising that she was going to be taken to that room, whatever the room was, and Cris was going to be in some pain whether mental or physical. Cris guessed that it would be a lot of both, being a slight pessimist.
She wished she was wrong.
She wasn't.
After what seemed like a long time they arrived at the room, greeted by a thick, plain door that seemed so different from the intricate house. Cris guessed they were in the basement as the temperature had dropped dramatically and they, meaning Rhys, had to walk down a lot of stairs to get here. Rhys pulled the door open and it looked like it took a lot of effort due to the expression of his face. It was about half a metre thick and Cris didn't even want to think about the types of noises the door kept from the outside world.
She wished she wouldn't find out.
She did.
There was a short spiral staircase leading down into the dark, cold room. it wasn't even that it was that cold but just looking at the room sent shivers through Cris and cause goosebumps to prickle her skin. When Cris' eyes adjusted to the little light let out through a single light bulb that was dangling for the cracked ceiling, Cris was able to notice the plainness of everything from the slightly grayed walls to the off-white coloured walls. There was no furniture in the room apart from one small chipped table. After a few seconds of scanning Cris noticed the two metal circular hooks bolted into one of the walls.
To Cris' dismay, Rhys placed her down between the hooks so that she was leaned up against the wall, right in the middle of the hooks. Of course Cris couldn't keep herself up so she slid down the wall to one side causing her to lie down in an awkward 'L' shape. She looked up to Rhys to realise he had knelt down to face her, although he was still looking down at her because she was laying on the floor while he was merely kneeling.
He reached out and took her cheek into his palm, Cris would've flinched back but her head was already flush against the wall, so they're was no moving away. He seemed to take this as a good sign although if he bothered to look in her eyes he would've noticed the obvious fear swimming in them, but then he might have just thought Cris was afraid of what was to come in the dingy room.
"What do you mean there's nothing you can do?" Cris asked, trying to stop he voice from shaking badly. He seemed to notice her tension as his eyes soften further. He slowly, as if unsure of his actions, he slid his hand so that it gently swept a piece of knotted dark brown hair, that had fallen across her vision, away from her eyes, which he seemed to stare in in.
Now Cris was truly looking she could see the small flaws that hindered his otherwise beautiful face. Rhys had a small, pale scar, that contrasted from his otherwise tanned completion, on the side of his left cheek. He also had a larger, but still small, red and slightly purple thin line that skimmed from the top of his forehead to just below his dark eyebrow that meant a small line of his eyebrow had been sliced off.
Cris knew what that meant. Cris knew that he had got that scar recently and that only a sharp blade could have caused that. It was such a clean cut scar that it looked to be painted on with precision, it looked as if the knife had carved into his skin; painfully slow. Emphasis of the painful.
The tips of his fingers delicately traced down from her ear, around her jaw and to her chin where it rested. Cris wanted to get away from his touch, it was almost as if his finger tips burnt pathways across her skin. By now she was breathing heavily, trying to resist the urged to close her eyes tightly and hope that when she opened them again she'd be back home with her friends, as if nothing had happened.
But she knew that wasn't going to happen no matter how hard she wished it.
Suddenly the door flew open and heavy angry footsteps could be heard coming down the stairs. The loud footsteps sent shudders through the room making Cris' head vibrate against the floor, which sent little painful pulses into her skull. Rhys, luckily for Cris, pulled away from her but she realised he still hadn't answered her question.
Meredydd came into the room, looking even angrier that before. His fore head was scrunched up and you could practically see the tick mark on his head and steam radiating out of his ears. His eyes looked black, instead of his usual dark blue, and they looked as if the flames of hell resonated in them.
Rhys stood up, as if to attention, so quickly he was just a blur. Before Cris could notice he stood towering above her; his tall stature perfectly uniform in a way only a soldier would: his legs were as taught as concrete columns, with his feat placed exactly at shoulder length apart, his posture was so straight it was as if he had a metal pole where his spine should be. His hands cupped the other and lay behind him, at the bottom of his back. He looked to be the perfect soldier.
She shuddered at the thought.
"Let us teach, dear Crisiant a lesson here, shall we?" Meredydd asked, his voice had taken on a sinister tone which enforced the angry calm look about him.
Rhys didn't answer, he didn't even move to acknowledge the man had said anything. The grin on Meredydd's face grew at the sight of the emotionless boy in front of him.
"Oh," He started, feigning shock. "So you care about your precious sister, do you?"
Rhys stayed completely still, once again, not giving any indication of an answer. Meredydd seemed to take this as some sort of answer, Cris had no clue how he came to that opinion but he seemed very sure of himself, with a cocky smirk that Cris wished she could kick of hos stupid face. Father daughter love, right? Cris thought ironically.
"Let's test your loyalties further shall we," Meredydd said to Rhys while looking at Cris with his eyes gleaming with sadism. "Chain her to the hooks," He said almost calmly as he chucked two short lengths of chain, with a cuff on each one, at Rhys. It only took about two seconds of hesitation before Rhys set to work, chaining Cris to the wall so that her back faced them.
When he was finished, he was immediately dismissed and Rhys set off with a speedy pace, like he wanted to get away.
Cris wished she could do that too.
"He will pay for that hesitation later," Meredydd said, mostly to himself. As if answering a question, he then continued saying, "Soldiers do not hesitate,"
Cris' thoughts had basically been confirmed: he had raised Rhys to be the perfect soldier and he most likely wanted Cris to become one as well. She hated that thought, it weighed down in her stomach like stones, and made her want to be sick. She didn't; she had to keep herself together, weakness was not something she wanted to show to someone who seemed to punish people for it.
She hadn't even heard the older man come behind her until he moved some of her hair off her shoulder and then jabbed a needle into the base of Cris' neck. She bit back a cry at the pain in her neck.
He yanked out the needle and Cris was suddenly aware of the pain coursing through her broken leg. Cris turned her head slightly to see her red and black cast being stood on by a booted foot. Meredydd put more pressure on to the cast which made Cris whimper.
"That worked quickly!" Merdydd exclaimed to himself sounding slightly happy. Which, to Cris, did not seem like a good thing. "The chemicals I injected you with have worked fast to get your motor neurons back up and running," He continued talking mainly to himself, once again.
"Some people would kill for that, you know? For the chance to walk again, to feel again!" Meredydd nearly shouted into Cris' ear at the end, making her wince slightly at the volume.
"But unfortunately for you, you're going to wish I didn't give you that," He said as he swiped a knife down the middle of her back, slicing her school shirt and bra and leaving a thin shallow cut along the line. He pushed to two halves of noth items of clothing, so that it bared her tanned, unblemished skin.
It would stay that way for long.
He picked the cat of nine tails whip up, stood up in a perfect stance and pulled the whip backwards before sending the tails forward.
