64
1414 Words
She had given up.
Is that what my future is?
When the healing energy washed through her and stopped the pleasure, Camilla’s head was jerked back by the hair.
She was bent in an angle that would have broken something if she hadn’t trained her body for flexibility.
“When I speak to you…you. Will. Answer. Do you understand?”
Camilla croaked out, “Yes.”
He smashed his lips to hers, and Camilla learned what true horrors awaited her.
The next two weeks were beyond awful. She was sure the duke was enjoying his new play toy because he spent every moment, he had free in her cell. He told her that he wanted to learn about her odd Talent. He took utter delight in breaking her body, and watching her Talent turn what should have been debilitating pain into pleasure that sent her body into shudders.
She tried to talk to the woman next to her, but she ignored any attempt at communication. The girl even went as far as hiding behind her own torture table if Camilla persisted.
She refused to give up. There was a window with narrow bars, but it overlooked the forested part of the floating island she was captive on. If she stood on the rack of cutting implements, she could peek out of it.
There wasn’t even any glass, but she could see the runes that blocked out sound. She could see freedom, and could even smell it, but her shouts and calls for help never escaped.
The other thing she had learned was that the bag that was placed over her head had a collar. It was fitted around her neck and wasn’t removed when Cumulus removed the bag itself.
She was pretty sure that the collar was what was stopping her AI from reaching out. But the metal was so strong, she was unable to even scratch it with the tools left behind.
Her second idea was to reach out the window and flag someone down, but the runes sent waves of electricity into anything that passed its threshold.
Still, Camilla hadn’t given up. She spent her limited free time that wasn’t dedicated to sleep watching out the window. Eventually, she was able to catch a woman’s eye. The woman had signaled that she saw her and was trying to find and free her.
I can hold out just a little longer. Just one more day.
That was the mantra that kept her going. The only solace she found in these awful walls.
The woman had indicated that this was the day. She’d be freed, out of this torment.
Her mind spun with thoughts of how the woman would get help. Would she alert the Empire workers not under the duke’s purview? Would she stage a rescue on her own? Maybe she was a Tier 35 as well.
Camilla was full of hope, and that was all that kept her going.
The door at the end of the hall clicked, and joy bloomed in her chest.
Freedom was moments away.
The woman with teal hair poked her head in the door and gasped in horror.
Finally, someone who will help me.
The weights lifted off Camilla’s heart.
“Hold on. I’ll get you out of here.” The woman had the voice of someone who sang if Camilla’s guess was right. It was the voice of her savior. It was the sweetest thing she had ever heard.
Her savior tapped at the pad, and the runes blocking her off from the hall dissipated. Before she could stumble out, her savior scooped her into a hug.
Camilla let out a sob.
She was free.
Her chest was filled with glee as she imagined what would happen to the duke when he was reported to the Empire.
The click of shoes in the outside hall brought her attention to the door, and she saw Duke Cumulus at the door.
She tried to call out in horror that she had doomed this woman as well and tried to tell her to escape, but all that came out was coughs of blood.
Camilla was pushed out to an arm’s length by the woman, and the duke came up to them and kissed the woman passionately.
Camilla looked down, and found a dagger buried deep into her chest.
The woman fondled herself, saying in a husky tone, “I love the look of betrayal.”
That’s when Camilla knew she had been played.
This was the duke’s wife.
Camilla had been locked up for nearly a year and a half when she enacted her second escape plan.
The horror of being betrayed had caused her to spiral for months, but she finally had an idea. She was only Tier 2. Her Tier 3 Talent was her only chance at escape.
Any time the duke or duchess weren’t in her cell, she cultivated ambient essence. She had learned a technique to use it, but it was far less effective than getting a patron to bring her through one of the city’s low Tier rifts.
She knew it would take years to fix her cultivation base, but that was of a distant concern.
A full year later, and she had enough essence to complete a single crunch. With it, she felt the energy rush through her.
The pleasure in her foot was forgotten, as she felt power rush into her limbs. She expected it to disappear in a few moments, like it had when she reached Tier 2, but it didn’t.
On a hunch, she poked her finger on a sharp instrument that had been used on her not an hour ago. Strength rushed through her. She didn’t know what the Tier 3 Talent did, but it would let her escape.
It was perfect.
The duke and his sick wife had spent hours with her and taunted her that they were sad they would be otherwise occupied for the rest of the day. It was such a shame that their session would be cut short. Some sort of meeting of nobles, or something that she was hoping would keep them busy.
They always repeated that, because she enjoyed what they did to her, she was a willing participant.
Camilla pushed the thoughts away. It was easy after nearly two years of this.
She walked to the window and measured for one last time. Even with the minimal food causing her to deteriorate to almost skin and bones, she wasn’t going to be able to fit through the bars.
Not without losing something.
She walked to the brazier with glowing coals still cherry red. She poked them until they sputtered to life for a moment.
Camilla shuddered. If she started this, she either escaped or died.
A small part of her whispered that she didn’t have to run but could just accept the torture.
With determined steps, she walked to the heavy cleaver that the Duchess liked to use.
She raised it with her dominant hand and brought it around into her off arm. It took three chops to get into the socket and through the bone. Camilla fell into the glowing brazier, and felt a new pleasure added to the symphony in her side.
The handle of the cleaver shattered in her hand. Strength rushed through her limbs.
With singed hair and a missing arm, she awkwardly climbed to the window. She had practiced this, but she still slipped.
Her Talent may turn pain into pleasure, but that didn’t mean losing a limb was easy on the body. Camilla twisted sideways, and the burned side scraped along the rough stone wall. With an effort of will, she pulled herself through the gap in the bar.
The pleasure of reopening her wound was only multiplied by the shocks that the runes lining the window sent out. But instead of slowing her they only added to her strength. With quivering muscles, she pulled her way out the window.
She panicked when her hips got stuck. She had lost most of her curves in the last two years, but she still had an hourglass figure.
If my ass gets me stuck here, I’ll just end it.
With ever-increasing panic, Camilla was able to wiggle out of the window by pressing on the outer wall. The shocks of the runes added to her enhanced power. Finally, she popped free, and fell thirty feet to the ground.
Something in her back cracked, but she was free.
- Writer
