Acheron

"With what?"

 

He looked up to where there was only a shadowed image of her and spoke the one thing he wanted most in life. "Kill me."

 

"You know I won't do that."

 

"They're going to geld me, Artemis. Do you understand that?"

 

"I'll fix it."

 

Acheron laughed bitterly. "You'll fix it. That's your answer?"

 

"Well, what would you have me do?"

 

"Kill me!" he shouted.

 

"Don't be so melodramatic."

 

"Melodramatic? They're going to chain me down, cut open my scrotum and remove my testes and then crush the channel. All while I feel every move they make and I can assure you they won't be gentle. How the fuck is that melodramatic?"

 

She scoffed at his anger. "And I will repair you afterward. So there's nothing for you to worry about."

 

Aghast at her attitude and dismissal, he felt her withdraw from him. Wanting to kill all of them, he banged his head against the stone wall.

 

I should have fought them . . .

 

But honestly what good would it have done him? They would have outnumbered him and beat him down until there was nothing left to fight with. Then he would have been dragged in here anyway.

 

Repulsed by his life, he wasn't sure how much time had passed before the guards returned to get him. He was dragged out of the room and shackled, then taken to his father's throne room. Naked, Acheron was forced to his knees in front of Styxx, his father and Nefertari who was still weeping.

 

The king glared at him unmercifully. "I find myself in a dilemma. The crime you've committed is punishable by death. But since I can't do that, we've decided to castrate you. No doubt it's what we should have done at your birth."

 

Acheron laughed at the irony. "That would have been too merciful an act for you. Not to mention how angry your brother would have been had you neutered his favorite toy."

 

His father came off the throne with a violent shout.

 

Acheron didn't so much as flinch. "Don't be so angry, Father. It's not like you didn't know what Estes did to me. In fact his greatest dream was for you to die and leave Styxx with him too so that he could have us both in his bed at once."

 

His father's curses echoed in his ears as the man set on him with the wrath of the Furies. The first blow caught Acheron across his jaw. The next broke his nose and set it to throbbing viciously. Blow after blow rained down on him.

 

Acheron welcomed every one of them as he continued to taunt the king. At best his father would kill him. At the very least he'd be knocked senseless enough to not feel the full pain of what they were going to do to him.

 

"Father, please!" Styxx said, hauling him back. He turned on Acheron who was lying on his side. "You are nothing but filth." Styxx kicked his side so hard that he heard his ribs snapping. The force of it rolled him over onto his back. Styxx's next kick landed solidly between his legs.

 

Acheron cried out at the unbearable pain as his brother repeatedly kicked him there until he was sure he no longer needed gelding.

 

"Fetch the physician," his father roared. "Let's see this bastard finished."

 

Panting in an effort to get breath into his abused body, Acheron was placed on a cold slab of stone, his arms chained above his head while his legs were spread and chained. He leaned his head back and laughed at them. "If you're planning a party, Father, you need to chain me face down first."

 

"Gag that filth."

 

One of the guards shoved cloth into his mouth. Acheron saw the shadow of the physician coming forward. He tightened his grip on the chains, bracing himself for what was to come.

 

But no amount of preparation could reduce the pain of what they did to him. Acheron screamed out in agony until his throat was as raw and bleeding as the rest of his body.

 

By the time he was dumped back in his room, he was spiritually numb—if only the rest of him was too. Unable to stand, he crawled across the floor to the small table where he'd left a knife from his meal the night before. Reaching up, he took it in his trembling grasp.

 

He was so tired of begging and he was tired of being hurt. Unable to stand another day of it, he sliced open his wrists and watched as the blood poured out.

 

 

 

 

 

October 25, 9528 BC

 

 

Acheron cursed foully as he woke up in extreme pain. Why wasn't he dead? But then he knew. So long as his life was tied to Styxx's no one would have mercy on him. Ever. Overwhelmed by despair, he tried to move only to find himself chained again to his bed.

 

He cried out in frustrated fury before he banged his head against the straw mattress.

 

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