Something shook against Phil's shoulder and he awoke with a start. He had fallen asleep in the pitch-black room, while he waited for that evil piece of crap Edwin to return. Even thinking the mans name triggered several conflicting emotions. Rage at not being able to defend himself, fear that somehow Edwin would sense his anger and punish him for it, and lastly relief that he hasn't returned. Warm callused hands pressed against his shoulder and shook him again. Phil yelped in fear and was going to apologize for whatever it was he had done wrong, when a familiar voice reached his ears.
"Wake up." Golder said. "We only a few more minutes before my diversion goes off. They didn't think I'd find you so deep down in the earth. They obviously didn't know who they were dealing with."
Laughter filled the small, cold, dark room. Phil wasn't sure why he was laughing or where the tears were coming from, but he couldn't stop them.
"Golder!" Phil said. Or at least he tried to say but all that made it past his lips was a grunting groan that vaguely sounded like his intended words and a series of coughing fits. His throat was dry.
"Pull yourself together man." Golder hissed as a bright orb lit up the room. The light dimmed quickly and Phil's eyes adjusted quickly.
He could finally see the room he had been trapped in with perfect clarity. It was much as he had thought, plain stone walls, a table made of a dark brown wood with two chairs on either side. One sat empty while Phil was strapped to the other.
Golder produced a knife with a flick of his wrist and Phil flinched. Before he had a chance to plead, Golder was within cutting range. A quick series of cuts and Phil felt his bonds fall from his wrist.
"They really did a number on you eh?" Golder said. "Don't you worry son. If you stick with me and quit running off like a mad fool, we will help you. Zarrick can give you the power to fight back."
Fight back? What a foreign concept. The best thing to do was to just let it happen and tell them whatever they required. His mind shuddered as he realized his own thoughts. Could he ever truly fight back now?
Golder pressed a bundle into Phil's naked lap.
"Get dressed." Golder said. "You're lucky they kept your things in a chest just outside the door. Even this interesting number." Golder was holding up the walnut sized orb. It glowed with a faint blue light and when Phil focused on it, he could swear that the light pulsed in response.
Phil grabbed the orb from Golder's hand and tucked it into his pocket as he pulled his pants on. The touch of the cloth on his skin send shivers through him. The torture hadn't left any marks, but he felt raw and weak. His skin felt like he had sat out in the sun for hours beyond what would be safe. Oddly the pain almost felt welcoming. He was still alive and now he was free.
The dim light of the orb winked out in Golder's hand, just as a creek from the door opening filled the room. After a moments panic Phil saw that it was just Golder stepping out.
"Stay close and be as quiet as a mouse." Golder said. His cloak was pulled tight around his shoulders and he raised his hood, hiding his bushy whiskers and large nose from view. The light of lamps on the wall almost seemed to shift off of his cloak like water off a duck. His own shadow kept tight around his form instead of stretching out like Phil's own shadow.
A trick of the lights, Phil wondered? He didn't dwell on it long, as he nearly fell on his face following Golder. He was exhausted, weak, and very hungry.
The soft padding of their feet sounded on the stone floors and Phil found himself flinching at every sound as his mind drifted.
Phil watched in horror as a red cloaked man rounded the corner and leveled his eyes on Phil. He didn't seem to notice Golder who stood within arm's reach of him. The armored man's hand shot to the sword at his waist, but Golder never slowed his pace and he slammed a ham sized fist into the man's face. The helmet the man wore was ornate and wrapped around his entire head, except his face. So, with a sickening crunch the man went down and Golder stepped over him as if he had done nothing more than pushed a door open.
Maybe they would make it out after all. Phil almost smiled as he stepped over the bloodied man. The half-drawn sword at the man's waist caught Phil's eye. Before he knew what he was doing he had reached down and pulled it free, it was shorter than he would have expected. The blade reflected the light of the lamps on its polished surface, it was roughly three handspans long with a red leather hilt and plain grey metal cross guard. He didn't really know how to use a sword, but he held tight to it feeling an odd sense of power knowing he wasn't unarmed anymore.
"Quit playing with the man. We've about ten seconds before this place is buzzing more than a hornet's nest." Golder called behind him as he rounded a corner.
As Phil caught up with Golder's slinking form, an ear shattering bang filled his ears and sent his head ringing.
"Aw our exits been created." A cloud of dust billowed into the hall around them and Phil followed closely as Golder walked straight into the dense dust.
Screams and moans could be heard echoing through the hallways and a pillar of light shone rays like heavenly angels ascending down on them. As the billowing dust began to clear Phil became aware of two figures tangled in a pill of stone and wood debris.
They couldn't possible still be alive Phil thought as he looked down at the bloody half forms ahead. Then the closest figure, with long brown hair covered in thick dust looked up at him through the moans of pain.
It was HER!
"Well that's unlucky." Phil heard Golder mutter as he walked right past the two forms into a tunnel that let out into fresh air and light.
Phil felt a mix of emotions as he stared at the woman. She had been nice…no she was part of his torture. His mind spun in confusion and he gripped the sword handle tight enough that his hand began to hurt.
Phil took a step forward doing his best to hide his terror at seeing her, but then his eyes fell on the second form. A man. He was all to familiar. His head was blooded and he moaned but he didn't lift his eyes to greet Phil as the woman did.
The bloodied head moved and Phil knew for certain. Edwin lay pinned in a mix of stone and wood in front of him. All the pain he had felt at the hands of the horrid being laying in front of him flashed through his mind a million times.
He was scared. He was in pain. He was angry. He latched onto the anger, the rage, and let it swim across him and envelope him.
"You.." The words came out as a whisper when Phil had meant to scream them. His voice caught in his throat, but he stepped forward as a stillness overtook him.
It was as if he was watching someone else control his body. He looked down at himself as he stepped forward, slow and deliberate. The sword he had borrowed lifted awkwardly above his head and he barely noticed as the woman screamed out. She was begging him to stop but blow after blow Phil slammed the blade down on the man's head. It took a few blows before the head gave way to his blows, but Phil didn't stop.
No more pain, his mind seemed to whisper. No more pain.
Then like a dream he was snapped back to his body. Golder had a hand on his arm and shook him when he didn't respond.
"Dear god of the seventh hell boy!" Golder looked down at the red pile of something near Phil's feet then glanced at a glowing form to Phil's left. Phil focused on the form trying to understand it. "A few more moments and she'll be free and then we won't be escaping anything."
Phil's eyes focused finally, and he noticed it was the woman. She had gone still. Her form seemed to glow a fiery yellow light.
"I will hunt you to the ends of this world." Her words were less than a whisper but Phil felt them pierce him. She spoke them with such power that even through his still confusion he understood her. "You have taken him from me. You will die a slow death."
Phil wasn't sure if she kept talking as Golder's grasp held his arm firm and dragged him through the rubble and up into the fresh air. But Phil held her gaze. He almost thought he could understand the mix of pain, hate, and helplessness he saw in them…almost.
Cold air tickled his near naked form as he followed Golder. His feet stung with pain as he had no shoes and the stone paved streets weren't always perfect. But none of that registered much with Phil. The pain seemed like nothing compared to the endless nights he had endured, had it been more than one night? He really didn't know, but it had felt endless. He had been so hopeless to do anything about his pain. A thought tickled at the back of his mind that he had ended the being who had caused him so much pain, but it was only a fleeting thought and it held no relief.