I could hear something dripping, the sound echoing off the walls for what seemed like forever. I couldn’t see anything, as I was still blindfolded. My hands were chained above my head as I sat against the cold stone wall beneath them. I didn’t know how long I’d been there, or how long I was going to be there. My arms ached from being suspended above me for so long, and no position seemed comfortable anymore. The stone felt like there was moss on it as it rubbed against my back. The room I was in reeked of stale water, and blood. I hoped it was only my own blood, but there still was that smell of old, dried blood.
I heard a door creak open, and heavy footsteps followed. The footsteps came closer to me, and I wondered what would happen to me next. They’d already tortured me for what information I knew, but I wouldn’t give them anything - even if it meant my life. The blindfold was taken off and light flooded into my eyes. It stung though it wasn’t much, but it was nice to actually see something again.
“There you are, my dear,” a voice said to me as the blindfold was being taken off. I looked up and saw that familiar face, with that twisted smile I’d hoped to never see again. His face was a pale white in the light, and his hair just as dark as before, just like the day we met. The only thing different was that half of the skin of his face was missing, and beneath was what appeared to be a clockwork skeleton. He partially removed the shackles that held my wrists above my head, enough to where he could lead me around like a dog on a leash.
“This may change your mind. I want to show you something.”
He lead me down a few corridors and up a flight of stairs. It was dark along the passages, with only a few lanterns every few yards. I stumbled a few times trying to climb the stairs as he dragged me along. Each time I fell, he would jerk my chains and they would cut into my wrists even more. He finally stopped in front of a door, and led me inside. There was someone bound to a chair facing away from the door, but I couldn’t tell who. He then attached my shackles to a large, stone pillar about ten feet away from the person in the chair, and walked across the room.
“You’ve been very uncooperative in telling me what I need to know. It seems like pain doesn’t do the trick anymore, what a shame. You were so eager and willing to help me when we first met. Where did that Rose go? I miss her.” He brushed some hair away from my eyes and tilted my chin up so I could look directly at his face.
“The way her eyes lit up every time I had a job for her to do. The way she looked at me after a hard day’s work, and needed some rest. Now we find ourselves on opposite sides of the table. Is it because I was unfair to you? Yes, I admit I was not in my right mind, but I could never find you again to apologize. And here you are now, right in my lap. I think this war has made us all a little crazy. Enough so that we do whatever it takes to get what we want. I took what I wanted from you then, but now I want something else.”
That smile came across his face again. It was always unsettling, especially with half of his face replaced with clockwork. His smile always stretched a little too far across his face. He removed his hand from underneath my chin and turned away from me.
“I found your little friend that you left me for. It really wasn’t that difficult. After they found you, he wasn’t too far behind.”
That devilish grin was probably still on his face. He stopped once he was in front of the slouched figure in the chair and turned back to face me. He took out a knife and began to make it dance across his fingers. He misjudged the distance between two and cut himself. He showed no sign of pain, and just lifted his hand to me. There was not a spot of blood on it around the cut.
“See Rose? We don’t bleed, but your friend here does. You wouldn’t want to see him suffer more than he already has, do you?”
I didn’t know what they had done to my whoever it was in front of me, but from I could see from behind, it wasn’t good. I wasn’t completely sure who it was, as the figure before me wasn’t easily recognizable, and it could’ve been one of a few different people. It did appear to be a man, who was slumped over in the chair. He was bound to the chair multiple times around his arms and chest, as well as his hands behind him. I could see that his clothes - or what was left of them - were dark with blood, and could see where his wounds were. Could it be the one that had said he loved me so long ago?
“What’ll it be, Rose? You, or him,” he asked me as he spun the chair around.
