The Pentagram Child(67)

The body on the chair didn’t even stir as my footsteps grew closer and with it the noise that the person was obviously now no longer alone. I didn’t know whether to take this as a good sign or not but still I continued on. If only the fog would lift just enough to make out some features so I had some clue as to what I was dealing with and then maybe I wouldn’t have to go as far. I looked down at the dock and saw my bare feet after having to grab handfuls of useless fabric so that I wouldn’t trip. I shuffled along trying not to step on the large gaps big enough to get my foot stuck sideways. In fact I was making good progress considering I was terrified but when I looked up to see, I had to clamp my hands around my mouth to lock away the scream.

The body was now stood and it was clear it was the strong powerful body of a man. He only wore black trousers that were frayed in patches like they were hundreds of years old. His bare top showed square shoulders and muscled lines down his back twhich then tapered down into a V-shape. But all these factors were insignificant. They were cast back into the shadows of my mind as my eyes homed in on the many black chains that wrapped around the forearms of the man. There should have been too much weight for him to even hold his arms up but this was precisely what he did.

My eyes travelled the length of the chains that bound him so crudely and followed them to the chair that stood suspended on its back two legs. It only took a few more steps on my part to see the chair itself was actually made up of the same lengths of chain. Twisted and coiled around to form the shape until it got to the bottom of the feet, where it then spread out like roots of a tree. Whoever he was, he was well and truly trapped to the end of that soulless sight with no means of escape.

I couldn’t help but feel for the prisoner, for to be cast into this place to suffer the emptiness for any length of time was a cruel punishment indeed. I wasn’t really sure though how long I stood, stock still, watching his silent torment in sick fascination but eventually it came to an end in the most brutal of ways. It was when I couldn’t wait any longer and I took my last and final step, coming within touching distance of the man. I then reached out my hand before I even knew what I was doing. It was in that exact moment my fingertips came into contact with the first link of metal in his chains that everything changed.

I thought in this cold place I would feel the icy touch of iron against my skin but I was wrong. It burned me, scalding my flesh as if I had just touched burning coal. That’s when I knew it wasn’t metal at all. Because his chains weren’t manmade and they weren’t of Earth, no… they were made from Hell’s own rock.

The impact of my touch caused a domino effect of reactions but the one most profound was when the man before me whipped his head around to face me.

“NO!” I screamed looking up into the eyes of purple flame, only this time, as I had first witnessed today, Hell’s fire raged there in the centres.

“Draven?!” My raw and pain laced voice spoke his name like it would somehow help in releasing him.

“You shouldn’t be here, my Keira.” These words weren’t spoken aloud in Draven’s voice but that of his controlled Demon. It was growled without malice and it was snarled without threat. It was just spoken from another part of him that didn’t know how to be gentle with me but still had enough thought not to want to frighten me. I don’t know how I knew this as fact but it didn’t matter, what mattered was that I did and I wasn’t afraid.

“Why are you here Draven…what…what is this place?” I asked whispering the last few words as the emotion at seeing those chains around him got to be too much for me to handle. I noticed how where I had first touched had now started to glow, like the centre of a log fire where it’s at its hottest. The heat started to travel quickly along the links and I watched on in horror as it got closer to his arms.

“Draven?!” I said his name again in panic, madly thinking what it was I could do to stop it from burning his skin.

“This place is my prison of choice.” His Demon said looking back over the fog and when I followed his gaze, I could see it had finally started to lift. Only now, I quickly wished it hadn’t, for all at once the last of the links quickly erupted around Draven’s arms and the rest of the vile world came crashing into view.

“This is… TARTARUS!” His demon side erupted fully and I took a step back in fright. He motioned an arm out in front of us and I turned to see a very different kind of Hell.

We stood at what seemed to be on the edge of a chasm in Hell and it opened out into a cavernous space filled with row after row of soldiers. There were thousands of them all stood to attention in too many lines to count, all in formation and ranks. But wait, there was something different about them, something not only demonic but something more. I wanted to step closer but Draven’s burning arm came up, reminding me of what was more important.