บท 18: Elian's Retaliation

Elian's fingers clenched around the cold iron bars, the metal biting into his palms as he locked his gaze on Isla's face. The fury that burned in his eyes was unlike anything he had felt before, raw, unfiltered, and consuming.

The echo of his scream still hung in the air, reverberating through the stone walls of the dungeon.

The two men froze in place, their faces drained of color as the reality of their situation hit them like a crashing wave.

Elian's grip on Isla tightened, his nails digging into her delicate skin with a viciousness he had never known himself capable of. Isla's eyes widened in panic, her breath coming in short, terrified gasps.

"Let me go, you bastard!" she spat, venom dripping from her words. But her voice betrayed her as it trembled with fear. Elian's resolve only hardened at her desperate plea.

Footsteps pounded in the distance, a cacophony of armored soldiers rushing towards the source of the disturbance.

The men in black, realizing the gravity of their predicament, exchanged a look of pure terror. The decision was made in an instant, self-preservation over loyalty. Without a word, they turned and bolted down the corridor, leaving Isla behind.

"Wait! Don't leave me!" Isla's voice cracked as she screamed after them, her panic mounting with each passing second.

Her heart hammered in her chest, a frantic rhythm of regret. She cursed herself for returning to taunt Elian, for letting her arrogance cloud her judgment. If only she had left with the men in black, she would be far away from this hell.

But now, she was trapped. And she knew it.

The sound of clattering armor grew louder, the soldiers drawing closer. Isla's breath hitched in her throat as she struggled in Elian's grasp, her eyes darting frantically around the dimly lit cell, searching for an escape that didn't exist.

She was at the mercy of the bastard she had tormented, and he was showing none.

Elian's heart raced, he could see the terror in Isla's eyes, the realization that she was truly, abandoned and alone.

For a moment, a fleeting moment, he almost pitied her. Almost.

But then he remembered the cruelty, the mockery, the endless torment she had inflicted upon him - the original owner of this body.

This was her doing, and she would face the consequences.

The soldiers rounded the corner, their swords drawn, their faces set in grim determination.

They skidded to a halt in front of the cell, their eyes narrowing as they took in the scene before them. The leader of the group, the same soldier who had taunted Elian earlier, stepped forward, his gaze flicking between Elian and Isla.

"Well, well," he drawled, a slow, malicious grin spreading across his face. "What do we have here?"

Isla's fear-stricken eyes locked onto the soldier's, her voice trembling as she tried to explain herself. "This isn't what it looks like!" she stammered, desperately pulling against Elian's unyielding grip. "He's lying!"

Elian's voice was cold, steady, devoid of the fear that had gripped him earlier. "She was trying to escape," he said, meeting the soldier's gaze with unwavering resolve. "She had help. There were two men, they were going to take her away."

The soldier's grin widened as he looked over Isla, who was now pale with fear, her once confident demeanor shattered. She could see the amusement in his eyes, the sick pleasure he took in her desperation. Her mind raced, searching for a way out, but there was none. She was caught in a web of her own making.

"Is that so?" The guard's voice dripped with satisfaction as he gestured to his men. "Looks like we've got ourselves a stubborn prisoner, boys."

Isla's heart pounded in her chest as she glanced from Elian to the soldiers, realizing with growing horror that there was no escape. Elian's grip on her finally loosened, and he stepped back, watching as the soldiers moved in, grabbing her roughly.

"No! No, you can't do this!" she screamed, her voice breaking as she struggled against their iron grips. "He's lying! I'm not trying to escape!"

But her words fell on deaf ears. The soldiers' eyes gleamed with cruel delight, their earlier frustration now giving way to sadistic glee. The soldier who had taunted Elian earlier stepped closer, his face inches from Isla's, his breath hot against her skin.

"Watch, boy," he said to Elian, his voice a twisted mix of amusement and malice. "This is what happens to traitors and stubborn prisoners."

A sickening smile spread across his face as he nodded to the others. "Let's have some fun, boys."

Elian's heart twisted in his chest as he watched the soldiers begin their brutal work. They tore at Isla's clothes, ripping the fabric from her body as she struggled and screamed.

Her cries echoed through the cell, each one more desperate than the last. The soldiers laughed as they slapped her, kicked her, their cruel laughter mixing with her sobs.

Elian backed into the corner of his cell, his stomach churning with a mixture of revulsion and guilt.

He tried to tell himself that she deserved it, that this was the fate she had brought upon herself. But the sight of her helpless, broken form being dragged through the dirt by those monsters made his blood run cold.

Isla's sobs filled the air as each man took his turn, their sickening grunts and jeers making Elian's skin crawl. He turned away, squeezing his eyes shut as he tried to block out the horror before him. But the sounds, the raw brutality of it, were inescapable.

When the soldiers had had their fill, they drew their swords, and with a swift, brutal motion, they plunged them into Isla's trembling body. She gasped, her eyes wide with shock and disbelief, as the life drained from her, the blood pooling on the cold, unforgiving ground.

Elian watched, his heart pounding in his chest, as Isla's lifeless body crumpled to the floor. Her once beautiful face was now twisted in pain and fear, her eyes frozen in that final moment of terror. The soldiers stood over her, their faces flushed with the thrill of the kill, their breaths heavy.

The leader of the group wiped his sword on Isla's torn clothes, a satisfied grin on his face as he turned to his men. "Take her away," he ordered, his voice cold and detached.

One of the soldiers glanced at him, a question in his eyes. "What do we say when asked about her?"

"She was killed while trying to escape," the leader replied with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with sadistic pleasure.

The soldiers nodded in agreement, their grins matching their leader's as they grabbed Isla's lifeless body and dragged it out of the cell. The door clanged shut behind them, leaving Elian alone with the echoes of their laughter and the sickening memories of what had just transpired.

The leader of the guards paused at the cell door, turning back to Elian with a grin that sent chills down his spine. "Did you enjoy the show?" he sneered, his voice dripping with mockery.

Elian said nothing, his throat too dry to form words. He watched in silence as the guard chuckled and left, the sound of his footsteps fading into the distance.