woman also remembered how little her father thought of this, brushing it off:
«You weren’t fast enough. If you were any better, you’d never have allowed her to be wounded!»
It was true – Serena wasn’t there in time to save the Empress before she fell to an injury, though, not a life-threatening one.
Now… everything that happened that distant day meant so little, if the Empress wouldn’t even hear her case.
The military guards took her through all the bureaucracy every high-end person on Velutha went through after their arrest. The last on the list was implanting the inhibitor that minimised all the regeneration process in the prisoner’s body.
Finally, she was escorted to the prison cell – a small confinement with just a simple cot and a toilet corner. Not a window, not a whiff of fresh air – only the grey, lifeless walls of a prison cell that she was supposed to stay in until her case will be seen.
The complete silence she found herself in was supposed to unnerve anyone, who was thrown into this confinement. But to Serena it was quite usual to hear only her thoughts, her breath and the beating of her heart.
At first she was trying to count the time that was passing by, but without anything to help her with that, she stopped and just fell into a very still and quiet meditation, awaiting anything that would make her understand if she made the right call.
She wasn’t able to say how much time passed, when the door slid open and a guard stepped in, looking at her heavily.
«You’re being transferred, prisoner. Stand and turn around.» the man said.
Serena complied, wilfully allowing the guard to shackle her wrists behind her back once again. He took her through the numerous corridors and a couple of elevators that took them deeper down, until they ended up in what seemed like an old part of the prison. The woman couldn’t help but frown, seeing that the corridor they were walking through was unkempt and the cameras that were supposed to monitor everything were either broken or dismantled.
Even stranger was the complete silence around – there seemed to be not a single soul in the numerous cells they were passing.
Serena felt her thoughts start racing.
Was the Empress going to meet her privately deep in the bowels of this dungeon? Or were Salaar’s men trying to get rid of her so sloppily?
The man dragged her further in, until they reached an open cell and he pushed her in so hard that she almost fell to the floor.
As she straightened, she suddenly saw the face of a man she never wanted to see in person.
«Welcome, little dove.» a creepy smile appeared on the face of the one Serena recognised to be none other than Salaar Dorn Kalun.
The woman saw three other men in the cell and felt herself cornered.
«My son here had so much to tell me about you…» Salaar chuckled, seeing her eyes dart from side to side.
Serena saw one of the men grinning and recognised him as well – a very long time ago she defeated him in a duel. After that his career took a turn for the worse. Lazarus Dorn Kalun, Salaar’s only son.
«You can’t do this.» Serena hissed. «I am a royal prisoner awaiting trial!»
«Oh, little dove… you are no one. Nobody will hear you case, trust me on that. The Empress has so much more important things to attend to.» Salaar smirked. «I will make sure she will forget all about you.»
Two guards that stood there grabbed her, immobilising, while Lazarus and Salaar watched her twitch and fail to free herself as she was pushed down onto the floor.
«Lazarus has so much to say to you, my dear. I do hope there’s going to be something left of you after he’s done with you.» Salaar leaned in, grinning at the way one of the guards held her in a choking grasp, tightening his arms. «But I am interested how long you’ll last. As I do understand you’re quite the… survivor.»
«Asshole!» Serena hissed, baring her teeth.
«Such a pity to have your genetics go to waste…» Salaar shook his head and headed out. «Have fun.»
Lazarus chuckled, sitting on top of the woman and unsheathing his blade, his eyes flashing with madness.
«I always wanted to wipe that smug smile off your face, bitch.» he said. «Long hair! Pfft! A symbol of your victories… Let’s see how it holds against my blade.»
The man grabbed her hair and sliced with his blade, cutting off a few thick locks with a cackle. Serena could only growl, as he began rudely cutting her hair and throwing it aside, enjoying humiliating the warrior woman who defeated him once long ago.
«You will never see a trial!» Lazarus grinned, pushing her face into the hard floor. «My father will make sure of that!»
Serena did not take her eyes off the man, growling from the pain and humiliation.
He looked at the body that was before him and cackled:
«You and your entitled attitude made my career drop. And I’m going to make you pay for it!» he glanced at the guard behind her and nodded.
Serena felt the guard tightening his grip on her neck, almost suffocating her. If the second guard wouldn’t have been holding her legs, she would start kicking in an attempt to free herself.
«I’m going to make you scream, Serena. And I’m going to make you beg.» Lazarus began rudely cutting off her clothes, leaving cuts on her skin.
She didn’t make a sound, baring her teeth in anger.
When he took her for the first time, she gritted her teeth, but remained silent, which made Lazarus furious. By the time he was done with her, he waved to the guard and allowed him to do as he pleased.
Serena still kept her mouth shut, though the guard was just as fierce as Lazarus.
This was only the beginning.
Lazarus enjoyed tormenting her. Day after day he came to her – first, with two guards, then with another two men.
They were all too eager to have her again and again, tearing into her body with a relentless, sadistic urge to destroy what was left of her. She never gave them the joy of hearing her screams or cries. She tried her best to be silent. Just like with John Summers, she simply allowed her mind to go blank and all she did was just look at them and growl. She had to look. It was the only form of proof she could offer – if only the Empress would really go through with her word on having the royal trial.
The inhibitor made her body frail and incapable of regenerating, but she could withstand the pain. She had to. Otherwise there really was nothing else left of her.
In the short silent moments, when her rapists left her for the time being, she would allow herself to drift into sleep on the cold stone floor, her arms shackled behind her back. But every time she would be woken to another one of them taking her once more, bringing more pain and humiliation to what they’ve already caused.
She
