Bela could not concentrate on reading the book that Malcolm had given her. Her nerves were at their utmost peak. The only thing that would stay locked in the woman's mind was how she was trapped here with seemingly no way to escape. The iron collar weighed heavily around her neck, reminding her that she was at the mercy of this man at any given moment.

She found the text blurred in her brain. Her eyes had scanned through the pages but retained little of whatever it was talking about. The religious verses made no sense at all. These were stories of gods that she did not understand.

Worst off, there was no telling just how much time she had been allocated to read. Was she expected to make her way through the entire thing, or just the first part? Was there something specific that he wanted her to see?

She didn't know – and that was what terrified her.

With her hands shaking, Bela averted her eyes from the book and gazed over at Edith, who continued to look at her throughout this ordeal. "Please, I don't know what I am supposed to do."

Edith took another breath before she replied, "Read, Bela. You need…to –"

The blonde whispered through her teeth, "I know! 'Read the damn book,' I know that! What is he going to do with this?"

"He's going…to test you," Edith stated. "Read as much…as you can. We'll talk…when…he leaves."

Argh! That is only making this worse!

Bela grew visibly frustrated. She just wanted to throw the book across the room and scream, but her survival instincts told her not to. It would have been a foolish move, especially since she still had yet to form a solid plan. Malcolm was nowhere as strong as some of the creatures that she had fought and killed throughout this nightmare.

If she re-acquired her sickle or that gun, she could do away with him in an instant. The problem lay in the fact that both of those weapons were out of sight and she was chained to this floor, simultaneously locked behind these thick, erected iron bars.

The rectangular cage had been built at the center of this ornate living room. The small, brightly-lit enclosure gave off the essence of refinement, with its beige-colored wallpaper and furniture with a rich, dark, glossy wood. Besides the various lanterns sat mounted candles, which further illuminated the area. Shelves were lined with rows of books, as well as tiny figures and artifacts had been neatly arranged around, making this place seem like anything else but the dungeon it actually was.

The fact that she had been placed here amongst these other women was a strange, yet, frightening truth. With everything that had taken place in this realm over the presumable last two or so months, she couldn't imagine Malcolm having built these cells and other fixtures after the beginning of the plague. Everything was too neat. Too well kept.

No. They had to have been made before.

If someone in a normal society kept their living room as a holding ground for those they had taken captive, it stood to reason that no visitors ever came over. That would also mean that he likely had to have spent a lot of time here himself. With all the freedom to move about the house, why would he want to pay a dreadful visit to these ladies?

In Castle Dimitrescu, the dungeons were often used as a way to isolate the imprisoned staff from the rest of the world. The victims would still be subjected to torture and whatever else the sisters wished to inflict, but for a large part of their time there, they were mainly left alone.

There was a natural fear in the hearts of humans when they were confined in the pitch-black dark. The absence of light brought about the most harrowing thoughts that their minds could muster. Every sound – everything but pure silence – could have been their inevitable killers looming about.

On occasion, the isolation had allowed a few of the maids to discover a way out. So much time spent alone also allocated the opportunity to formulate plans and work towards them. They never fared well, in the end, but the effort was always commendable in the eyes of Alcina.

Bela, on the other hand, believed that her situation here would prove to be quite the opposite. If Malcolm would frequent this area, then there would be no way for her to procure a way out undetected. Any wrong move on her part would likely result in violence, just as Edith had warned. If so, then her only best option would be to play her part.

She could only hope that she played it well.

Clearing her thoughts as best she could, the blonde took a moment to breathe and steady herself. She needed to remember the things that she had to read. If a test was on its way, then failure would not be kind.

There was only one more question that she had left to ask, "Edith, what is he going to ask me?"

"I…don't know," the girl told her, struggling to tilt her head. "Anything. Please…read what…you can."

"Okay." Bela nodded, knowing that she had to expect anything at this rate. She drew in some more air, rationing that Malcolm was not likely to kill her just yet. This was an evaluation. A chance to prove herself. If she could make it past this, then she could start collecting more information on the dynamic of her captor.

He was just an ordinary man, who had lucked out and gained the upper hand on her. If he ever unlocked her chain…

She exhaled the contents of her lungs, filling them back in as her eyes returned to the text.

It was time to read.

.

When that door finally opened and Malcolm came walking through, Bela's heart jumped like a deer with an arrow in its side. She did not know just how long it had been since he last spoke to her. An hour or so? Probably less?

Her anxiety heightened as he maneuvered around the tables and set a small suitcase down on the ground. The man spoke not a word as he sat in the same chair he had been in earlier, several feet away from her. Malcolm adjusted his glasses as his eyes continued to inspect her body, staring at her figure with a beastly interest.

Bela's amber glare hovered back at him as she tried to cover herself up, unnerved by how he was gazing at her breasts. She gestured to the opened book that was laid out beside her knees. "I read it," she told him.

"The entire thing?" He asked. It was a preposterous question. How could she have read that large assortment of writings in so little time? Did he actually expect her to do so?

"No," she answered. "Not the entire thing."

The corners of Malcolm's mouth twitched as soon as he heard her reply. Suddenly, like a flash of lightning, he stood up and smacked his palm against the bars of her cell. The man's face lit up with anger as his fiery glare focused on the woman chained before him. "Then why did you say you read it?!"

Bela jolted back at that very instant. She had heard many screams before in her life, often from the mouths of her victims.

However, the way he had screamed at her was something different. It was almost comparable to a physical strike. Perhaps, it had to have been the circumstances that she found herself in that amplified the intensity of his outburst. That must have been why such a loud noise shocked her the way it did.

The man had just established himself as a loose cannon. A hair-trigger on a gun that could go off at the slightest touch. There had been no intention of aggravating him when she responded, but the result was all the same. A great concern emerged regarding just how easily she could accidentally accomplish that.

It was a line that the blonde did not wish to cross.

"I thought you meant if I had read it at all!" She tried to clarify, but it only served to make him more wrathful.

"You will answer the questions as you have been asked!" He pounded on the door to the cage, before his hands shot down into his trouser pocket to retrieve a small set of keys. Bela's eyes would not leave them as they revealed themselves.

That's my way out! I need to get those keys! If I can just get close to him…

Malcolm frantically inserted the first key into the lock and turned it. With a loud clank, the door to the cell swung open. However, against Bela's expectations, the man entered it like a raging bull. Her short-lived plan fell apart the moment he grabbed her, tossing her around in all directions.

It was just like when Ethan had attacked her. There was barely any way to fight back, but the inclusion of the chain around her throat only made things more difficult. As Malcolm shook her and shoved her around, the iron collar tugged against her windpipe, choking her in various positions.

Her arms lifted to grab a hold of him, but a punch to the gut crippled her composure. It all happened so quickly. It was a fight that she was fated to lose. Gasping for air, Bela lurched forward and sank to the ground. The only thing left to occupy her mind was the ongoing shouts of the man who had placed her here.

Powerless to fend off her attacker, Bela was caught in a whirlwind of pure terror.

Stop!

The moment a scream blew through her mouth, Malcolm grabbed her by the hair that was left on her head and delivered a precise strike to her face. Everything went dark for a second, which resulted in Bela regaining consciousness while on the ground. She didn't remember slumping down, but her cheeks felt battered to all hell. His knuckles had blasted her bones with pain. She attempted to push her body up, but another yank of her chain caused the woman to turn over and be dragged toward one of the walls of her cell.

It was a battle to breathe with the collar pressing against her. Bela felt the warmth of blood as it left her nostrils. She exhaled bubbles of crimson as she fought to ingest more oxygen. Her cloudy vision gave way to the sight of Malcolm standing outside her cell, seated in his chair.

How did he get over there?

Her mind started to piece together what had happened. She realized now that the blow to her face had been harder than she thought. No wonder why she blacked out like that. It rattled her brain so much that she lost fragments of time and memory in the aftermath. With the blood trailing down the corner of her lip, Bela tried to lean forward, but Malcolm was quick to order her to remain where she was.

"Move again and I will go back in there," he sternly barked.

She could taste the iron on her tongue. "Okay," she replied, hoping that conceding would keep him at bay.

The man sighed to himself, as if this encounter had caused him a certain degree of stress. He shook off everything that had just transpired, breaking a quick chuckle as he did so. Adjusting his glasses, he sat forward and rested his elbows against the sides of his knees, fingers interlocked.

"Let's try this again: Did you read the book?"

Her shaky hand rose to relieve some of the tension on her throat caused by the collar. As soon as the flow of air was eased, she shook her head and responded quietly, "No."

He stared at her blankly, not a single expression to be made for the next few seconds. It brought about a stir of caution within the blonde, as she could not be certain of what he was thinking about. Would he attack her again? It was likely that he would. She had expected the fight to fall in her favor, but just like Ethan, this was another human being, not some mindless creature.

It was easy to shake away from the grasp of the infected. Those people hardly thought of anything besides food, but someone like Malcolm processed every action and outcome possible. He held the advantage over her in this confined space and knew how to exploit her weaknesses.

With that knowledge, she was afraid of it happening again. The hardest part was coming to terms with the fact that it would not only occur a second time – but soon, as well.

After another second of holding his emotionless glare, Malcolm's mouth slowly curved into a smile as he leaned back into his chair and separated his hands. "That's all I wanted to know." He spoke like nothing violent had happened at all. The calm demeanor of his voice was so devilish in its nature.

She knew that he relished in the control he had.

Bela wanted to say something, but she was too concerned about what would happen if she spoke to him. It was smarter to allow him to set the pace. There would be no room for him to abscond her for asking the wrong questions if she did not ask any at all to begin with.

He licked his lips and cleared his throat, turning a brief eye toward Edith and the other woman who was locked away. "It's a big book," he said. "A good book, but a long one."

He's toying with me…

Bela wiped the stray blood off her mouth as her twitching eyes shuffled up and down. She replied with a nod, the only response that she could conjure. Malcolm took notice of the action, but his calmness remained intact.

He leaned forward, his face only a few feet away from hers. "What is your name?"

Her lips rolled in, collecting several droplets of sanguine fluid onto her tongue as she parted them. "Bela."

"Your last name, too."

"Bela Dimitrescu."

Malcolm straightened out his glasses again. "Well, Bela, we're going to play a little game. How does that sound?"

She replied quietly, "Sounds fun."

Why did I just say that?!

He chuckled a second time. "It is. Oh, it is." Malcolm relaxed his composure as he leaned back again, joining his hands as he shrugged his left shoulder and grinned at her. "I hope you read that book well. It's going to be your best friend in this little game."

Edith said that he would test me on what I read. Okay, this has to be it. Argh! I hope I read the right things!

Bela still would not say a thing, but Malcolm did not seem to care. He reached forward and picked up the book that she had been reading from, cracking it open and skimming over the first page. Her heart danced inside her chest as she watched him do it. The woman could hardly remember most of the initial parts that she had read because of how stressed out she was. The more she tried to mentally regather the information that had been tossed at her, the less confident she was in her ability to do so.

This was going to be a game that she would lose. She could just feel it.

Malcolm's finger stopped on a random spot, to which he glanced and smiled at as he reared his eyes back up at her. "Games are always fun, right?"

"Yes."

"Good." He set his gaze down at the page, scanning the various lines of text in front of him. "Hmm…alright, so here are the rules: I provided you with fifty minutes to read this section. Therefore, I am going to ask you five questions. Each question is worth ten minutes, in that regard. Answer the questions I ask correctly, and there is no penalty. You may rest."

His eyes adopted a sinister gleam as they concentrated on her worried face. He couldn't take his focus off her pale, wide cheeks. Her rounded lips were so inviting. Even the color of her irises captured his attention. She was far from innocent, but innocence was something he had destroyed in the past.

This woman evoked the image of evil to him, and he wanted to fulfill his pledge to destroy the very essence of that itself.

"Now…if you answer a question incorrectly…that is ten minutes of penance," he stated calmly. "I think that's fair, wouldn't you agree?"

Bela had the widest eyes that she could have mustered at that moment. This man was as sadistic as they came – and she hadn't even started playing yet. Deep in her heart, she knew that he wanted to hurt her. The guise of a chance to make it through this unharmed was nothing more than a false sense of security.

Cassandra used to taunt the maids with such promises. They proved to be nothing more than hollowed-out husks of hope. There was never a way to win. It would only serve to make the ensuing carnage even more distressing.

What is he going to do to me?

"It sounds fair." She had to go along with his plot. It was the sole option at her disposal. Any deviance from the path would guarantee nothing but a worse outcome. Playing her part went beyond acting, now. The likelihood of having to endure a bout of suffering would be par for the course in this man's hellish playground.

"Good," he remarked with another smile as he clapped his hands. "So…let's begin."

She could feel her heart rise to the bottom of her throat, knowing that she was about to dive headfirst into this madness. The blonde cleared more of the blood that dripped out from her nose off her mouth as she sat up and steadied her body. Parts of her face were still numb from the abrupt beating, but the biggest priority was ensuring that she could think straight.

There was a slight throbbing at the forefront of her brain. A headache would distract her; make it difficult to sort through answers as they came. She could already detect the tsunami of misery that was on the way. Her body was exhausted by this point. Her time in this prison may have just started, but it was stacked upon an endless line of restless moments and draining fights. The adrenaline that coursed through her veins was what kept her going, but everyone had their limits – including her.

Now was not the time to reach those limits.

Focus, Bela. Focus.

Malcolm pressed his fist to his mouth as he let out a swift cough. "Your first question is an easy one, but an important one, understand?"

"I understand."

"What are the names of the Fabled Ones?"

Alright, you got this! Their names were written all over the damned book. The first one was –

"Armistus, Peregled, Inactliot, and Satterion," Bela answered.

Malcolm gave her a nod of approval. "Correct."

Great…one down…

She nodded back, but mostly to herself. The initial victory was not one to be celebrated, she thought. Malcolm had said that this was going to be an easy one. There was no telling what else he was going to ask. There were still four more questions at play here. It was best to not get over-confident.

"Next question," Malcolm continued. "Of the four carriage riders, which one is brought by a set of two horses, whose hooves are responsible for the stars above?"

Bela felt like the answer was right at the tip of her tongue. This was surely something that she had read in the earliest parts of the first section. The book immediately went into describing the Fabled Ones before talking about anything else. It seemed to have been the only thing in that entire package of writing that made any form of sense. Hopefully, Malcolm's questions would only revolve around the first three columns.

The next five that compromised the rest of what she read were murky in coherence, to say the least.

If any questions were about whatever came after, then she would be in for a world of torment. She had not gotten to those parts yet.

Armistus was the lighting one, right? Wait, no, he was the one connected to the three suns in the sky. Damn it, I forgot what his horses were capable of, but…that doesn't matter! It's not him! Peregled was a warrior, I think. I don't…argh!

It had already been a couple of seconds after he asked that question, but Malcolm was already beginning to visually tear Bela apart with the heated glare that he gave her. It stressed the blonde out to no end, pressuring her to come up with an answer as soon as possible. She realized that she did not have long to think about this.

Peregled did something with fire. It's not him. Inactliot…no! Satterion, yes! It's in her name! She created the stars! I remember now!

"Satterion!" Bela's anxiety caught up with her as she spoke the name.

Malcolm took a small breath and nodded again. "Correct."

That was too close.

Bela couldn't help but close her eyes and try to unwind. She was almost halfway through now, but the stakes were growing. Two wins on her part meant that he would surely strengthen the difficulty of the questions asked. Any sadistic player would ensure a reprisal in the end. For all she knew, these small wins were nothing but a façade.

"Third Question: When Satterion used her sword to split the Life Orb into the three Sheer Orbs, what became of her blade after the formation?"

Bela immediately drew a blank.

I don't remember reading that. Was it worded in some weird way? There were a few things written about swords. What could they have been?

Malcolm was once again giving her that look. She couldn't think to herself for much longer. To buy herself as much time as possible, Bela began to answer, but chopped up her words and spoke slowly, "When Satterion cut the Life Orb with her sword…"

I read something about a sword dissolving!

"…the sword disappeared from her hand…"

What happened to it?! Argh! I can't think! Wait, I can! The text mentioned the light in those orbs coming from her sword!

"…and it powered the Sheer Orbs."

Malcolm rolled his bottom lip around as he kept his eyes on her. The man did not appear to be happy, squinting his lids and tapping his fingers against the page of his book. "Correct."

Thank goodness!

Bela wanted to gasp and breathe in as deeply as possible. She was relieved to have made it this far, but she was not out of the woods yet. The burst of hope that had ignited in her soul soon came to a crashing halt, however, once Malcolm turned his eyes back down at the book.

"Or, it would be, had Satterion cut the Life Orb instead of Inactliot."

…What?

"But…" Bela's lips twitched as she tried to process it. "You said Satterion cut the orb, right?"

"If you had read the book like I asked, you would have known it was Inactliot," he stated, raising his eyes to her with a cruel gleam. "You were right about the sword, but wrong about who wielded it."

He can't do that! I still got the question right!

Against her better judgment, Bela moved to protest his trick, "You said I got it correct! You asked me about the sword!"

He threw the hefty book straight at her face at that very instant. It clipped her across the mouth, forcing her canines into the sides of her lip. Bela groaned as she tucked her chin to recover from the blow, the fluttering sounds of the pages echoing in her ears. It was another reminder of how trapped she was in this cage, unable to get away from anything that he wished to do to her.

Malcolm did not scream, but his calm tone was no less scary, "You will do as I tell you. This…arrogance of yours…it will be painful." He reclined back into his seat and crossed his legs, happily glancing at his latest acquisition. "Unless you'd prefer to fail the last two questions, I suggest you straighten yourself out and return to where we were."

I need to get out of here!

Cupping her now bleeding mouth, Bela softly backed away into her cage, resting her spine against the metal bars. Her chest rose and fell at a faster rate than before. She was in no doubt stirred by his latest action. Malcolm's penchant for causing her harm was highly flammable. It would not take much to set his hatred ablaze and unleash it.

Playing her part – that was all she could do now.

Shrugging off the worries of her impending punishment, Bela nodded and tried to regain her focus. "What is the next question?"

Malcolm leaned forward. "When Peregled descended from the heavens and bestowed his gift of strength to all men, what were the sacrifices offered by our people to him?"

I…I didn't read anything about that…

Bela tried to recall the several times that god's name had come up in the text that she read. The blonde feared that she may have not gotten to it yet. It could have been just outside her reach by the time Malcolm had returned. In those few seconds that she sat inside her own head, she began to regret the minutes wasted worrying about this very moment.

She should have done what Edith had advised as soon as she had the chance to. She should have read the damned book.

Malcolm broke her concentration with a single word, "Well?"

"Uhm…" Bela stammered as soon as her vocal cords played up. "I – I think…the people gave him…"

"You don't know, do you?"

"They sacrificed…"

He ended it right there. "Wrong. Next question."

She choked up as soon as she heard that. It was another blow to her stability. Bela wanted to scream and demand more time, but this was not the kind of place where she could do so. The woman had never been in a setting such as this before. Even the numerous moments of reckoning that she endured with Ethan as they tried to survive out in this city was nothing compared to the torment that she was going through now.

This isn't fair!

Bela couldn't stop thinking about what was destined to come her way. Her mind gravitated toward the million potential ways that he could hurt her. The worst part was that he had not detailed what he would do. It left her brain to fill in the gaps, channeling in all the most horrifying possibilities. This was pure psychological torment.

He didn't have to lay a hand on her to tear her apart, but lay a hand upon her he would as well.

She said nothing as she gulped her troubles and sniffled through some of the blood that had globed up beside the bottoms of her nostrils. Her amber eyes glanced at him, hoping that their saddened nature would somehow elicit a form of mercy from the man.

Mercy? Who was she kidding? Mercy was a word that did not exist in this place.

"Final question," he declared with a chuckle. "I'll throw a little spin on this one. I love games, after all. Twisting the rules only makes them more enjoyable."

Bela kept silent.

Malcolm smiled again. "The last question is worth twice as much as the others. If you get it right, I'll cancel out one of the two you got wrong. If you fail this one, then the amount of time that you have to pay back is doubled. Does that sound fair?"

"It is fair," she had nothing else that she could say.

"How does a whore find herself saved?" He asked, looking directly at her.

…

Bela didn't know what to say. That question sounded like it had nothing to do with the book itself. None of the verses mentioned a single thing about the salvation of such a person. The more she lingered at that truth, the more she began to discern that this was about her and her alone.

What do I say to this?

She defaulted on the most repetitive quality of religion that she understood. In her past years, she had done a bit of studying on the concept, depending on what books she was able to get her hands on. Miranda did not allow foreign materials to find their way into the hands of the villagers, but the lords were an exception. She cared not what they did, as long as their loyalty flourished.

With that being so – Castle Dimitrescu was loaded with books on various subjects. The eldest daughter preferred to learn about as much of the world as she could. Books on other religions, however, were subject to some degree of scrutiny. Miranda did not tolerate the idea that there was any other savior in their world besides her. Such an ideology would not work well with what she was trying to teach.

The best way for Bela to have studied the customs of other places was to find them hidden in the passages of world textbooks. Snippets of the gods of other continents were always a fascinating thing for the blonde, when she was not engrossed in anatomy itself.

It was a momentary interest, but one that she would have to delve deep into if she was going to answer this question appropriately.

"They must accept the teachings given to them." Her best answer.

Shockingly, Malcolm merely shook his head in disagreement. "Wrong."

"But…"

His fury emerged as soon as he heard her contesting his determination, "Quiet!" He ended it with that shout and nothing more, but the ripple that it had over Bela's mental state would not subside as quickly as his outburst. As she shook in her corner, Malcolm explained his reasoning, "While accepting the teachings is part of the road to salvation, a whore cannot achieve salvation by that alone. No one can enter the heavens on speech itself. They must suffer. Why do you think this plague has befallen our people? They have not suffered enough, so darkness must enact their penance in order to bring them to the light. You must suffer to be saved, Bela. Such is the only way."

This can't be real!

She could not move, petrified at what was about to happen, watching hopelessly as Malcolm shook the keys in his hand and stood up. From her position on the ground, the man towered over her like a skyscraper.

"That was a fun game," he said. "Do you think you won?"

.

Bela's face was submerged in the tub of freezing water yet again. She had only managed to take in just enough air to make this round bearable, but the way he shook her head around as he held it under cost her more oxygen. The sharp sting of the low temperature shocked her skin, adding a mix of discomfort to the already torturous act. When her lungs found themselves depleted, her body buckled around, fighting the restraints that bound her wrists.

Just when she was about to pass out, Malcolm lifted her by the hair and brought her face back above the surface. Her mouth opened up to gather as much as it could, while her eyelids spread open, igniting more blurry vision as she tried to recuperate.

Bela gasped loudly, coughing whatever liquid had trickled down to her throat. His grip on her hair was so tight. It yanked the roots, pulling her scalp along for the ride as he twisted his wrist. When she was nearly done inhaling, he sent her head right back down into the water for another round.

Bubbles rippled out from the corners of her mouth, floating up to the surface with a melody of her frantic whimpers. This had been going on for at least twenty minutes, but who was counting? As much as Bela hoped that this torture session was halfway over, she did not trust that Malcolm would honor his words. He could keep her here as long as he chose. The only thing she could do was suffer.

Malcolm pulled her head up again, just when she was an inch away from running out of air. Bela coughed out some of the water that had entered her nose. It chopped up the next intake of oxygen that she could get, placing her in an even worse state when she was sent back down.

Somebody help!

Her bent legs kicked around in all directions, only for Malcolm to compress her left calf with his knee. She wasn't about to go anywhere. As her head thrashed around in the water, the prolonged exposure to the ice-cold temperature rendered her skin numb. It made it harder to hold her breath, which escalated her fear of inadvertently drowning. As usual, just before that could happen, she was freed from the water, only to hear him speak into her ear with glee.

"And everyone was so afraid of fire?" He laughed, plunging her face back down into the frigid tub.

She stopped counting the minutes by this point. It would keep going until it was done.

It just felt like it would never end.

.

With her collar back on her neck, Bela had been returned to her cell, too exhausted to even resist him. The only kindness that he had shown her was the courtesy of cutting off the ties that had kept her hands bound for what may have been the last hour. Her gloves had been removed and likely thrown away, leaving her bare wrists out in the open to display the purple rings that had formed along her skin.

Bela's face was still partially numb from all the exposure, but a hasty run-through with a towel had dried up most of the moisture. The small cuts along the inside of her lips still stung, releasing the faint taste of blood with every flick of her tongue. Locked away with the book left by her feet, the blonde could only close her eyes and breathe slowly.

She was in so much distress that her body had shut down. She didn't want to talk or do anything. It was only by sheer luck that Malcolm had decided to leave the building for matters unknown. She didn't complain at all. After all the hell that she had just suffered, she needed a break.

Bela's hand softly gripped the body of her heavy chain. A small tug reminded her of how she wasn't going anywhere. This wasn't going to be the quick escape that she had hoped for. She had never felt weaker than this in her entire life.

She used to fear dying in this world. Now, all she feared was being kept alive in it.

Death would be too good of an outcome in this nightmare.

Edith, who had watched the twisted game unfold earlier, fought against her pain to speak to Bela, "Just breathe…Bela."

The corners of her mouth furrowed as she held back her tears. Her chest shuddered while she exhaled. The brunette did not need to be told that this house's newest prisoner had just been through a lot. The expression on her face told that story well.

With nothing said in reply, Edith's disheartened eyes glimmered as they remained on the woman close by. "You are not…in this alone," she said. Bela only appeared to grow sadder, but she still would not say anything.

The paralyzed young lady briefly shut her own eyes and mumbled an incoherent prayer to herself through those dried, parted lips of hers. It was about a minute before she opened her sights back up, glancing at Bela with a glint of understanding.

"He did the…same things…to me."

Bela's face tensed up as she tried to remain composed. She wanted nothing more than to bottle up her emotions and let them die inside her. Breaking into a fit of tears would only expel more of what was going on within. She didn't want to face it.

Admitting what had just happened to her would have made her feel even weaker than she did now. The way he laughed as he forced her head into that water haunted her to no end. It was as degrading as it was frightening. She felt ripped from the path that she should have been on, as this was all due to a tragic mistake on her part.

She should never have left that building and gone into the outside world by herself, she thought. What was she thinking? Now, this was what she had to contend with.

She just wanted to break apart and fade away, but that couldn't happen. The most she could do was sit here and shut herself off from the world, but Edith's words were burrowing into her brain like a high-powered drill.

At any second, they were going to reach her core.

"I was taken…months ago," the woman said to her. "He tested me…just like you. It was…a way for him to…terrorize me."

Bela pressed her hands against her temples as her teeth bared. She didn't want to hear any of this. "Edith, just stop talking!"

Amidst the darkness of her shut eyes, Bela could only hear the exasperated breaths of the tormented girl on the table. The room fell quiet for a little bit, but Edith still had something that she wanted to say to her.

"Nothing you did…was wrong."

"Everything I do is wrong!" Bela's angry, tearful eyes turned to her as she sat there. The blonde wanted to vent her frustrations on the motionless woman, but even she knew that such an action was pointless. It wouldn't change a single thing.

Edith's breathing picked up a bit – as much as it could, at least.

The girl looked like she was fighting to muster the strength to say what she believed needed to be said. There was a glimmer of determination in the way she looked back at Bela. The blonde could tell that she would shake her head if she could.

"Don't…don't say that," Edith closed her eyes and opened them again. "Don't let him…win."

How can I ever win, then? I'm…I'm trapped in this damn cage! I wish I could just disperse and leave this place! Why did I have to lose my powers?! Is this what fate has been setting up for me this whole time?! Get me out of here!

Bela began to groan with each deep breath that she took. Edith had chipped away at her just enough to cause the dam to start leaking. "You've been here for months, you said?" She shuffled her body around so that she could get a better look at her, rattling the chain that hung down her chest as she did so. "Don't let him win? You think you haven't already lost? What about me? What can I win? Huh?!"

She wanted Edith to give up. It would have been easier to shut this discussion down, rather than confront the truth in front of her. Such was her way of life for decades before she showed up in this world. Tossing the brunette's current predicament directly in her face was the best way to burn the bridge that the young lady was attempting to build.

Only, that didn't work.

Edith would not give up on her. "He never…broke me. Physically, yes…but not…spiritually."

What is she trying to tell me?

"Look what he did to you," Bela said, still committed to her old ways. "You told me to not fight back, because I would end up like you. Now, you're telling me to not let him win? You make no sense. You never did. Just stop talking to me, alright?"

"Don't let…Malcolm…steal who you are." Edith closed her eyes again, tearing up a bit. It could have been the constant pain that she was in, or her undying empathy – or both. Still, she would not accept defeat. The girl knew a broken soul when she saw one. "That's what…he wants. You're Bela. Always…remember Bela."

A tear rolled down the blonde's cheek. She hated everything that was happening to her, but the more she heard Edith's voice, the more she realized that she didn't want to be alone. She needed someone to comfort her. "Why are you being so kind to me?"

Edith's mouth broke out into the tiniest of smiles. "We should all…be kind."

Bela shut her eyes and slowly breathed through her mouth. She expelled her air at just the same pace, reminding herself that Malcolm was not here right now. "I'm sorry for what I just said."

"I forgive you," Edith whispered.

I've never heard those words before…

"What did Malcolm do to you?"

The brunette's smile faded away as she addressed why she was the way she was, "He wanted to…keep me…forever. I tried…to escape, but…I failed. I never…gave in to him. He used a knife…to sever my spine…at the bottom…of my neck."

This poor woman.

Bela's amber stare focused on the various fixtures and tubes that were strung up all around the young woman. "What are all those for?"

"I cannot move," Edith explained. "I cannot…eat, or urinate…or anything on…on my own."

That was when the purpose of the bags and containers that hung out from the sides of her body became understood. The dark yellow liquid that filled the large, transparent canister that was bolted to the side of the table was connected to a tube that likely ran up her groin. The bag on her abdomen that was stuffed with a black and brown substance collected fecal matter that she could not expel herself.

Bela had read through enough medical textbooks to know what they were. Malcolm had played the role of doctor in the most haphazard way. It was the only way to maintain control of a mess he had created. He had cut into her body in more ways than one, meddling in every natural function that she used to have.

Edit used her eyes to motion over to the other fixtures that were bound to the racks nearby. "He put…a tube in…my stomach. Liquid food comes…out through it. It is…the only way…that I can eat. But…I go through…constant infections…so he gives me…antibiotics. I'm always in…in pain. It never…ends."

Bela rolled her lips and took in a small gasp of her breath. She shook her head to herself. Even a seasoned killer such as her had never considered that kind of torture. What he had done – and was still doing – to Edith was a greater form of evil than she could have ever imagined.

"I am sorry." That was the only thing she could tell her, hopeless as ever.

"Mabel," Edith gestured to the darker-haired brunette with a slight tilt of her nose. "He brought her…here after…after me. She wouldn't stop…crying. She can walk…but Malcolm…cut up her…eyes and her…tongue. He punctured…her eardrums."

Bela covered her mouth as she glanced over at the other imprisoned woman. It made sense now why she had not been tied to a chain or a collar, yet, had never even acknowledged the blonde's arrival.

Edith added on to Mabel's reality, "She…lives in a…void of nothing…just like he…warned her. I wish…I could have…helped her. She has…been through…so much now."

"What do you think he is going to do with me?" Bela worriedly asked, knowing that she was now on the chopping block.

"He wants…the perfect wife," Edith answered. "One he can…always control. But…he won't stop…looking until…he finds one that…he doesn't have to…" She began to struggle with her speech, the pain of her condition flaring up once again.

After a handful of seconds, she was able to push out her next word, "…mutilate."

Bela's eyes drifted away from Mabel, who continued to sit in her little cage, unaware of the world around her. She ran her hand through the locks of hair on her right side, tensing her brow as she fought back the urge to scream. This was all too much for her.

With another gasp for air, she calmed herself enough to speak to Edith some more, "So, he didn't marry you because of what he did to you?"

"No…he did marry…me. Mabel…too." Edith looked at her with such sincerity. She did not want Bela to misunderstand the truth of what was going on. "Once he…marries you…he will do…whatever he wants."

NOTES:

Hope you all enjoyed (as much as someone could) this chapter!

I wanted to set the standard of what Bela's life is going to be like in this place. What she has been thrown into is something that has been going on for quite a while before Vikcia arrived. This isn't some den of experiments, or religious cultist's sacrificial room – Malcolm is just a man with a very dark secret.

Putting Bela in this position isn't for shock value. We've seen the way she and her sisters were. By all facts, they were very evil people. The idea behind this series besides redemption, is taking these seasoned killers and throwing them into a new environment, where they end up meeting someone who, in their own ways, is way worse.

Up until this point, Bela is a woman who is now discovering new parts of herself after being disconnected from her old life and from her powers. This is the place where she will discover her true humanity, though, it will come at a great price.

As dark as this arc will be, I think this is where the story will shine most of all.

Out of all the daughters – she is the one who I believe can survive this.

The next chapter will be out in exactly one week. Expect to see some more of what Ethan and Kyia are up to, as well as our local dust-witch. Bela's struggle will also be the main focus of the chapter, as there is still more to learn about what is happening.

There is so much more that is going to occur before this story comes to its explosive ending. I hope you are all as excited as I am!

Follow this story on Archive of Our Own to check out the latest artwork that was created for this chapter!

Again, thank you as always for supporting this story as much as you all do! I am so happy to see so many of you telling me how much this means to you. This is something that, as a writer, I always dreamed of seeing. I hope you are doing well and that life has been kind to you. Wishing you a great weekend ahead and hope you have some fun! Stay safe and see you again soon! 😊