Heart of Ice by Lara A. Steel EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
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- Author:Lara A. Steel
- Language: English
- Genre: Metaphysical Fantasy eBooks
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Elizah always felt uneasy in the Tract.
But this was the first time she felt nervous.
Erebas led her silently down the wide corridor. She knew where the
angel of sin was being tortured. And when they stopped outside his door,
she swallowed hard.
Erebas shot her a reproachful glance.
“Stop being nervous. It’s repulsive!” He took a deep breath. “You
should be happy. Nothing beats a real body, shrill screams, and the
squelching sound of skin being peeled off a man’s back.”
Elizah managed a strained smile. “Sure,” she said, squaring her
shoulders.
The door was opened and she was accosted by the smell of blood, urine,
and sweat.
Erebas and her father were right. The stench alone clearly distinguished
a real body from the other inmates. She could sense a pulse in a dark corner,
and heard rattling breath.
“We gave him a three-hour break,” said Erebas.
“Why?”
“The boss’ orders. That… female human she’s been indulging asked for
him to have a breather. And lately the boss has been amenable to such
requests. Repulsive!”
Repulsive was one of Erebas’ favorite words, Elizah noted.
“But for you it’s actually an advantage. You get to see the body in
relatively unscathed condition. You can experiment and find your own way
to delve into his weaknesses and fears. All in all, very gratifying.” Erebas
stepped forward. “He’s even been bathed and given a shirt.” He laughed
derisively. “The inmates here are treated like they’re in the Ritz-Carlton.
Repulsive!” He pointed at Dorian, who was cowering in a corner. “I’ll leave
you two alone now. Your instruments are back there. If you need anything
exotic that’s not here – some kind of acid or sturdier barbs on the chains –
let me know!”
With these words, he turned and disappeared from the cell.
Elizah watched him go, then turned her attention to the inmate.
He hadn’t moved since her arrival, but he was conscious. Pain danced in
his veins and fear vibrated in his chest.
Her predecessor’s work was evidently formidable, if ultimately
ineffective.
If she was going to live up to her father’s expectations and make a good
impression, she would need to consider other methods.
She went to inspect the workbenches. The larger devices were not in the
room. So she assumed these had already been tried at every setting and
power level and then removed when they produced no results.
What remained were all sorts of hooks and blades, whips with nails on
the ends, cords soaked in acid, and scalpels. There was a disgustingly hot
fire in the corner for heating iron implements.
Presumably all these things had already been tried. She went to the table
on the other side.
Here were some things that may still offer possibilities. The old-school
torturers were more into whipping and branding. But these days there were
some very different options – those that made use of modern science. A
syringe of acid here, a drop of arsenic there. Caustic leg compresses, and
body parts killed off by freezing over and over again.
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