The Life After Death

  Chapter 27: Chains of Eden Part 2

  Darkness.

  It was the first thing I noticed. The same as before. The same as always. No way to tell if a new day had begun, if time had passed, or if I was simply trapped in an endless void of flickering candlelight and suffocating silence.

  I blinked the exhaustion from my eyes, my body stiff from the cold stone beneath me. My wrists ached from the shackles, the weight of the chains still biting into my skin.

  As I shifted, the dim glow of torches cast shadows along the damp walls, the same cursed metal shards glinting in the cracks, preventing any hope of escape through magic.

  I let out a slow breath. Still here.

  A rustling sound came from the other side of the cell. Alric sat cross-legged, his head tilted slightly, as if listening to something only he could hear. Ren was still lying down, eyes barely open, his arms folded behind his head.

  "You're up," Ren muttered, his voice rough with sleep.

  "Not that it matters," I replied, stretching as much as the chains allowed. "Can't tell if it’s morning, evening, or another nightmare."

  Alric chuckled softly. "Does it make a difference?"

  "Not really," I admitted, rolling my shoulders. "But I’d rather know how much time I have left before they come for us again."

  Ren exhaled, shaking his head. "You're still thinking about escaping."

  "I don’t think about anything else," I said flatly.

  Alric smirked. "Good. Because you’ll need all the time you can get."

  Before I could respond, Aria groaned from the opposite cell, rubbing her wrists against the chains. "Would you all shut up? Some of us actually want to sleep."

  I grinned slightly. "Didn't know you were the delicate type."

  She shot me a glare through the dim light. "Say that again when I’m not chained up, and we’ll see who’s delicate."

  I chuckled, shifting my weight to sit more comfortably. "Fine. I’ll give you that chance—once we get out of here."

  She held my gaze for a long moment, something unreadable flickering in her yellow eyes. But before she could respond—

  The doors creaked open.

  The Mother of Purity entered the chamber, her split robe flowing as she moved. Her presence casting a suffocating silence over the room.

  She was not alone. Two men in white robes followed her, each carrying torches that burned brighter than the dim lighting that filled the chamber. As the flames flickered, their light stretched across the cell, casting long shadows—and for the first time, I saw her clearly.

  Aria.

  Her skin was a warm caramel hue, her long cream-white hair flowing into deep light grey at the tips. Freckles dusted her cheeks, though the hardened glare she shot me made it clear she wasn’t one for soft looks. Even in chains, she carried herself with defiance, as if daring the world to break her.

  The Mother's cold blue eyes scanned the cells before settling on Aria.

  "It is time."

  Two men in white robes stepped in behind her, their faces devoid of emotion as they moved toward Aria’s cell.

  Aria struggled, yanking against the chains. "Get away from me!"

  I lurched forward, the metal around my wrists biting into my skin as I tried to get closer. "Aria, stay strong! You’re not alone in this!"

  She fought like hell, kicking at them, snarling as they unlocked her chains. But the two men seized her arms, dragging her forward as she writhed in their grip.

  She locked eyes with me for a brief moment before they pulled her through the door, her defiant screams echoing down the corridor until they faded into silence.

  I turned sharply to Alric and Ren, my pulse hammering in my ears. "What’s going to happen to her?"

  Alric, still calm, tilted his head slightly. "Relax. She’ll be fine. Like you said, she’s strong."

  Ren, however, said nothing. He pulled his knees up to his chest, curling into himself, his face buried against them. His silence spoke louder than any words could.

  I clenched my jaw, my mind racing, but I forced myself to refocus. I turned back to Alric. "How are you so calm about this?"

  Alric gave a small, unreadable smile. "Because panic doesn’t change anything." He shifted slightly, his head still facing forward. "Tell me, Emrys, what do you think will happen to you when your turn comes?"

  I frowned. "I don’t plan on letting it get that far."

  Alric chuckled, amused. "That’s what we all think at first." He turned his head ever so slightly toward me, the closest he had come to actually looking at me. "But you’re different. You don’t just talk—you believe it. I wonder how long that belief will last."

  I narrowed my eyes at him. "You sure have a lot to say for someone who barely moves."

  Alric smirked. "And you sure ask a lot of questions for someone who doesn’t have answers."

  I exhaled through my nose, studying him. "You don’t seem like the type who just rolls over and accepts things. How did you get here?"

  For the first time, Alric’s smirk faded, replaced by something more straight and firm. "My family was slaughtered," his voice quieter now. "I don’t know if it was the nuns or someone else, but after that, I was taken here."

  I felt my stomach twist. I had been pressing him for answers, pushing him, and now—this. "Alric… I—"

  "Don't," he interrupted, shaking his head slightly. "You didn’t know."

  For a moment, we sat in silence. A rare moment of understanding between us. The walls of this hellhole had been built with more than just stone and metal—they were built on suffering, on loss, on lives stolen without reason.

  I exhaled sharply, my mind still lingering on what he had just told me. What was I supposed to say to that? That I was sorry? That it wasn’t fair? We both already knew that. This world—this place—had never been fair.

  I shifted slightly, searching for the right words. "That must’ve been..." I hesitated, knowing no words could actually make it better. "Hard."

  Alric let out a short breath, not quite a sigh, not quite a laugh. "You could say that. But hard doesn’t change anything. We move forward, or we don’t move at all."

  There was something about the way he said it—flat, but not empty. Like he had already decided long ago that the weight of his past would never slow him down.

  I leaned my head back against the wall. "Well… not to ignore the elephant in the room, but it's kind of rude to not look at people when you’re talking to them."

  Alric chuckled, the tension easing slightly. "Oh? So you finally noticed?"

  I blinked. "Noticed what?"

  Alric's lips curled into an amused smirk as he finally turned his head toward me. For the first time, his grey eyes locked onto mine, unblinking, unreadable. Then, with a quiet certainty, he spoke.

  "I’m blind."

  The air between us seemed to still. The casual way he said it, like it was just another fact, another unimportant detail, made it hit even harder.

  I stared at him, my thoughts grinding to a halt. "You’re messing with me."

  Alric just grinned wider, his expression calm, almost playful. "Nope. And now, your mind is wondering, right?"

  I narrowed my eyes. "...Maybe."

  He laughed. "Good. Keep wondering."

  For the first time since we started talking, it felt like something real, something that wasn’t just about survival, but understanding.

  I let out a slow breath, shaking my head. "You know, for someone who doesn’t see, you sure notice a lot."

  Alric chuckled. "And for someone who sees, you sure miss a lot."

  I smirked. "That supposed to be wisdom?"

  "Take it however you want," Alric replied, grinning. "But if you keep staring at me like that, I might start thinking you’ve got a crush."

  I snorted. "Please. You’re not my type."

  "Oh? And what is your type?"

  "Someone who doesn’t irritate me every time they open their mouth."

  Ren let out an amused grunt from his corner. "Then you’ll be alone forever."

  We all shared a quiet laugh, the tension easing just slightly, settling into something that felt… almost normal.

  Hours passed. Maybe more.

  The door creaked open again.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  One of the white-robed men entered, dragging Aria back inside. Her body flailed limply against the floor, her limbs twitching from exhaustion.

  Deep cuts ran along her arms and neck, thin lines of red glistening in the dim torchlight. Her white shirt, now stained with patches of blood, clung to her frail form—whether the wounds were beneath the fabric or simply pressed against it, I couldn’t tell. But she wasn’t moving. And that terrified me.

  He dumped her unceremoniously onto the cold floor before turning and leaving without a word.

  I bolted forward as far as the chains would let me. "Aria!"

  She didn’t respond. Her body was limp, her breathing shallow. Her usually fierce eyes were dull, unfocused. The fire in her had dimmed.

  Rage boiled in my chest. "What did you do to her?!" I shouted at the retreating figure, my voice raw with fury. "You bastards—what did you do?!"

  The door slammed shut.

  "Aria!" I shouted again, my voice hoarse with frustration. I strained against the chains, my wrists burning as I tried to inch closer. "Somebody—check on her!"

  My eyes darted toward the other girls in the cell opposite us. Their faces were pale, their expressions uncertain.

  I turned my gaze to the blonde girl—the one who had spoken before. "You—what's your name? Please, check on her."

  She hesitated, eyes flicking between Aria’s limp body and me. Then, with a small nod, she stepped forward. "Lea," she murmured. "My name’s Lea."

  Lea knelt beside Aria, gently pressing her fingers to her shoulder. "Aria," she whispered, shaking her lightly. "Come on, wake up."

  Aria stirred, her body twitching slightly as a weak groan escaped her lips. Lea carefully helped her sit up, supporting her back with a careful touch. "She’s breathing," Lea said, though her voice was tight with worry. "She’s alive."

  Relief flooded through me, but it was short-lived. Her breaths were shallow, her chest barely rising. I clenched my fists, frustration gnawing at me. "What do we do?" I muttered under my breath, my mind racing for an answer.

  "I think she needs water!" Ren suddenly shouted from the side, sitting up with urgency.

  An idea sparked in my head. I turned to Lea. "Lift her head up and open her mouth slightly."

  Lea hesitated for only a moment before nodding. Carefully, she supported Aria’s head, tilting it up and parting her lips just enough.

  I raised my palm, channelling a precise stream of water magic. A controlled trickle shot forward, splashing onto her face while a small amount slipped into her mouth.

  Aria flinched, her body jolting as the unexpected rush of water went down her throat. She coughed violently, her chest heaving as her body fought against the sudden intake.

  Her eyes fluttered open, dazed and barely focused. In a hoarse whisper, she muttered, "Is it over?"

  "You a water mage?" Ren's voice rang from the back, his tone filled with a mix of surprise and curiosity.

  I turned to look at him, ready to dismiss it. "That’s not important—"

  But as I spoke, my eyes flicked toward Alric, and for the first time, he looked stunned. His blank, unfocused stare was frozen, and after a moment, he whispered, almost as if speaking to himself, "Water magic..."

  I turned back to Aria. "Are you okay?"

  Aria stirred, her breathing still shallow as she slowly turned her head to face me. Her yellow eyes, usually blazing with defiance, were dull with exhaustion. "Do I look okay?" she rasped, trying to hold back the tears glistening at the edges of her eyes.

  Her words stung more than I expected. "I’m just trying to help," I said, my voice quieter now. "I was concerned."

  She let out a weak scoff and looked away. "Why? Why do you care? I’m not important to you. So why are you going out of your way?"

  Her words caught me off guard. Why was I going out of my way?

  She had a point. I barely knew her.

  Maybe it was because I was in the same chains as them now. Maybe it was because I had already lost too much to let another person slip through my fingers.

  "You don’t have to be important to someone for them to care," I finally said. "Sometimes, being human is enough."

  Aria huffed, shaking her head. "You sound like an adult." She leaned back against the wall, closing her eyes. "Thanks for helping, but just let it go."

  Just as I was about to respond, the heavy doors groaned open, cutting through the silence. The flickering torchlight stretched into the chamber, casting long, shifting shadows against the stone walls.

  The Serpent stepped inside, two white-robed men flanked her, but her focus was solely on me. She stepped toward my cell, her sheer wrap flowing like mist, her golden accessories glinting under the dim light.

  The Serpent's gaze swept across the room, but her eyes widened slightly when they landed on Aria. She tilted her head, amusement flickering across her features. "After the Mother's time, you're already on your feet? Impressive."

  She let out a light laugh, shaking her head. "I need to report this back. Clearly, the Mother needs a deeper session with you."

  Aria’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t respond.

  The Serpent turned her attention back to me fully now, her lips curling into a smile. "Your turn."

  The men stepped forward, reaching for my chains, but the Serpent held up a hand, stopping them. She tilted her head, her green eyes gleaming.

  "I can force you… or you can walk with me. The choice is yours."

  I exhaled sharply, my fists clenching. I could fight, but I already knew the outcome. And I wasn’t about to let them drag me through the halls like a beaten dog.

  I stood, shaking off the stiffness in my limbs. "Fine. Let’s go."

  The Serpent smirked as the men unshackled me. "Good boy."

  I walked beside her, refusing to show hesitation as we left the chamber. This was an opportunity—one I needed to use. I had to memorize the routes, the turns, the guards—anything that could help me later.

  As we moved forward, muffled screams seeped through the cracks of the heavy wooden doors, a grotesque symphony of pain and pleasure. Some cries were of agony, others disturbingly filled with something else entirely.

  I swallowed down the bile rising in my throat and turned my head toward the Serpent. "What are you doing to us here?"

  She chuckled, her golden accessories jingling softly. "Aren’t you a curious one."

  She suddenly stopped in front of a door, her fingers trailing along its rough wooden frame before she pushed it open. The air inside was thick, oppressive, suffocating.

  The Serpent tilted her head, smirking. "See for yourself." The sight before me made my blood turn to ice.

  A young boy lay sprawled on a bed, his small, naked body trembling as men in white robes surrounded him, their hands reaching—my stomach twisted at what I saw.

  She turned to face me fully, her green eyes gleaming. "This will be you. But you…" she traced a finger down my chest, "are more fortunate. You’ll have my beauty by your side."

  As we continued walking, my eyes scanned my surroundings, memorizing every detail. Then, something different caught my attention.

  The corridor stretched ahead, but unlike the wooden doors that lined the walls, one stood out—tall, sleek, and metallic black. Just further down, another door loomed, this one made of black steel, with deep red draping's cascading over its frame. A sense of unease crept up my spine.

  I stopped. "What’s behind that door?" I asked, nodding toward the one with the red draping's.

  The Serpent paused beside me, her lips curving into a knowing smile. "If you behave, you won’t ever have to find out," she mused, a cruel amusement laced in her voice. "That is where The Mother takes those who need… correction."

  I clenched my jaw. So that’s not a way out. Whatever lay behind that door, it wasn’t something I wanted to see.

  The Serpent let out a pleased hum before placing a hand on my back, guiding me forward. "Come now, we’ve arrived."

  I turned back to face the black metallic door in front of us. This was hers. The Serpent’s private chamber.

  She pushed it open, and I stepped inside.

  The first thing that hit me was the scent—thick, floral, and almost intoxicating, a mix of exotic oils and something sharper lingering in the air. The dim glow of enchanted lanterns cast shifting shadows across the room, painting the walls in hues of gold and crimson.

  Everywhere I looked, there was something meant to entice, to overwhelm the senses.

  Plush cushions of deep velvet were scattered across the floor, alongside ornate tables holding trays of exotic fruits, silver goblets filled with dark liquids, and vials of thick, glistening potions that shimmered under the light. Silk drapes hung from the ceiling, flowing like mist, their delicate fabric swaying with the faintest movement.

  But in the centre of it all stood a stark contrast—a metallic bed, its frame sleek and imposing, fitted with thick straps designed to bind whoever lay upon it. The cold, clinical presence of it sent a chill down my spine.

  The Serpent turned to the two white-robed men who had accompanied us. "Wait outside," she said casually.

  They obeyed without hesitation, stepping out as she shut the heavy metallic door behind them. A sharp click echoed through the chamber as she locked it.

  She turned back to me, smiling, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "Now, shall I force you onto the table, or will you be a good boy and climb up yourself?"

  I forced myself to meet her gaze, ignoring the tightness in my chest. "You’re really giving me the option? How generous."

  She laughed, running a finger down her collarbone. "I can see why Liora liked you so much."

  I scoffed, the mention of Liora's name sparking something sharp in my chest. "Tch."

  The Serpent’s smirk deepened. "Oops. Did I hit a nerve?" she cooed, stepping closer as she tightened the straps around my wrists, pulling them just a little harder than necessary. "Forget about her. Let’s focus on something much more... let you and I get more intimate."

  She trailed a finger along the edge of my jaw before stepping back, her posture shifting into something almost theatrical. "I suppose I should introduce myself properly now, shouldn’t I?"

  She placed a delicate hand over her chest. "I am Naamah, the Serpent of Serenity." Her lips curled as she added, "One of the High Priest’s eight chosen nuns."

  My mind churned at that revelation. Eight?

  That meant there were more like her. More of them enforcing this twisted version of paradise. This wasn’t just one person’s corruption—this was an entire system built on suffering.

  Before I could ask more, she reached for a small glass vial resting on a nearby table. She pulled out the stopper, dipping her fingers into the shimmering liquid inside. Without hesitation, she pressed them against my lips, forcing them into my mouth. The sharp, unfamiliar taste coated my tongue.

  "Let us begin," she whispered.

  I jerked my head back, coughing. "What was that?"

  Naamah chuckled, tilting her head. "The good stuff. Now, let’s not waste any more time."

  Her hands roamed over me, slow, deliberate, her touch deceptively soft at first. My body tensed, my mind screaming at me to resist, but the substance she had given me was already working its way through my system.

  A warmth spread through me, dulling my instincts, making it harder to fight back. My thoughts became sluggish, my resistance weakening by the second.

  Naamah smiled as she ran her fingers over my chest, tracing invisible patterns against my skin before reaching for a small blade at her hip. With a flick of her wrist, she sliced clean through my shirt, letting the fabric fall away. Her nails lightly dragged over my exposed skin, sending sharp tingles down my spine.

  I gritted my teeth, trying to focus, trying to pull myself out of whatever haze she had pushed me into. But it was getting harder.

  Her lips curled in satisfaction as she leaned closer. "You’re already responding so well," she purred, running her hands lower, teasing. "Liora really didn’t appreciate what she had."

  My fingers clenched against the bindings, my breath uneven. As she reached for the blade again, this time sliding it toward the waistband of my pants, a desperate thought struck me.

  I have to get her to stop.

  Swallowing hard, I forced the words out, my voice steady despite the haze fogging my mind. "Wait."

  Naamah raised an eyebrow, amused but not stopping. "Hmm?"

  I exhaled shakily, trying to play my hand carefully. "I’m not feeling it. Not like before."

  She paused for a fraction of a second, her eyes narrowing slightly. The amusement in them didn’t fade, but something calculating flickered beneath the surface.

  "Oh?" she hummed, tapping the blade against my hip. "Well, we can’t have that, now can we?"

  I took a slow breath, forcing my expression to stay neutral. "Maybe we’re rushing things," trying to keep my tone casual. "If you want me to enjoy this, shouldn’t we take our time? Start slow? Face, top… build it up?"

  Naamah’s green eyes gleamed with amusement, her lips curling. "Oh? You’re trying to set the pace now?" She let out a sultry laugh and leaned closer, her breath warm against my skin. "I like that."

  She pressed her lips against my collarbone, trailing slow, deliberate kisses upward. Her hands explored every inch of exposed skin, teasing, pushing, testing my limits. I forced myself to react just enough—enough to make her believe I was falling, to keep her trying.

  After about thirty minutes, she finally pulled back, breathing heavy, her eyes filled with satisfaction, she sighed and ran a hand down my chest. "You’re even more enjoyable than I expected," her voice dripping with pleasure. "I can see why Liora was so interested in you."

  With an ecstatic hum, she reached for the bindings, slowly undoing the straps around my wrists and ankles. As the last one came loose, she suddenly leaned in and wrapped her arms around me, pressing my face into the warmth of her chest.

  "You will be my finest specimen," she purred. "You don’t even realize it yet, do you? You're already mine. The High Priest will be so pleased."

  She turned her head toward the door and called out, "Take him back."

  The heavy doors swung open, and the two white-robed men stepped inside. Without a word, they seized me, gripping my arms as they hauled me off the table. My body felt sluggish, the remnants of whatever she had given me still clouding my mind. Every step was an effort, my muscles strained from the tension of keeping myself together.

  As I was dragged through the threshold, my eyes adjusted to the dimly lit hallway. A hush fell over the other prisoners as I entered the chamber. Their stares bore into me, silent, uncertain. Then, a voice cut through the quiet.

  "Are you okay?!" Aria’s voice, sharp with concern, rang out first.

  Before I could answer, the men threw me forward, the impact sending me sprawling onto the cold stone. The chains rattled as they locked my wrists to the wall once more. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving me in the suffocating silence.

  I barely had the strength to move. My body ached, my mind sluggish, but I heard Alric’s voice from across the cell. "Emrys. Are you okay?"

  I let out a slow, unsteady breath and stared up at the ceiling. "...I’m fine."

  But I wasn’t sure how much longer I could say that.