The impact exploded with a sickening thud. Pain seared through his skull, bright and all-consuming, before the world dissolved into darkness.

  When Ampelius regained consciousness, he felt a dull throb pulsing in sync with his heartbeat. He tried to move, but his hands and feet were tightly bound. Then felt the rush of blood to his head which made his vision swim, along with a nauseating pressure building behind his eyes.

  As his vision cleared, and looked around, he realized he was hanging upside down, suspended from the ceiling of the auditorium.

  The all too familar panic surged through him, but he forced himself to breathe deeply. But his wrists were aching from the strain of the bindings digging into his skin. Stay calm, he thought. You’ll survive this if you stay calm.

  Next to him, he saw Nova who was also hanging upside down.

  “Nova! Hey! Are you still with me? Say something!” Ampelius called out, trying to keep his voice low.

  He didn’t respond. Ampelius watched him closely, noticing the faint rise and fall of his chest. His friend was still alive. He just needed to figure out how to wake him up.

  Then Nova began to stir, struggling against his restraints, unaware of the situation.

  “Nova! Over here! It’s Ampelius. We’re both tied upside down,” he whispered urgently.

  Nova stilled, peering over in Ampelius’s direction. “Ampelius? By the gods, we need to stop ending up like this! We can only cheat death so many times before it catches up with us!”

  Ampelius let out a small, mirthless chuckle. The effort sent a jolt of pain through his pounding head. “You sound confident. So, what’s the plan for getting out of this?”

  “You’re not getting out of this,” a voice echoed from the darkness.

  The door creaked open, and the auditorium lights flared to life, blinding them. As their vision cleared, a figure came into focus below, a man seated who casually sat in one of the theater chairs, staring up at them with a sinister grin.

  Ampelius noticed the white tuxedo, which was trimmed in black with a matching top hat. It was an air of twisted elegance that clung to him like a perfume. Nearby stood two masked figures, each gripping a baseball bat, and wearing a spiked white mask with red splatter.

  “What do you want?” Nova demanded, his voice laced with defiance.

  “What do I want? What do I want?” The man laughed, the sound devoid of warmth. “An excellent question. What I want is simple. One of you will die slowly, and the other... will die painfully. Both for my amusement, of course. And for the amusement of my associates here.”

  “Sorry to disappoint, but the two morons beside you will be the entertainment when we turn the tables,” Nova retorted.

  The stranger snapped his fingers, and without hesitation, one of the masked figures pulled a lever on the wall. The rope released, dropping Nova to the floor with a sickening thud.

  The two masked men pounced, beating him without remorse. Each crack of the bats against flesh echoed through the theater. Ampelius watched, helpless, feeling the fury and guilt surged through him. He clenched his fists until his nails bit into his palms, the pain was the only thing keeping him from breaking.

  “Alright, that’s enough,” the man said, waving his hand. “He got the message. Hang him back up.”

  The lever was pulled again, and the rope slowly dragged Nova’s battered body back to its original position. He hung limply, unresponsive to Ampelius’s frantic calls.

  “Nova, stay with me. Don’t you dare give up,” he whispered, his voice cracking. The sight of Nova’s bloodied face made his stomach churn. Fury coursed through him, boiling over into helpless rage. He felt like he was suffocating under the weight of his inaction.

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  He took a few deep breaths, trying to keep his emotions in check before speaking. “Do me next! I’m getting numb.”

  “Oh, I’ve got other plans for you, my friend,” the man in white replied, a wicked smile curling on his lips.

  “Good,” Ampelius muttered under his breath, unsure of what he could do but stall.

  “What’s that? Speak up! I can’t hear you when you mumble!” he taunted.

  Ampelius tried to lift his head, as he wanted to meet the man’s gaze, despite the pounding in his skull. And he wanted to sceam at him, demand answers, but he knew this type of individual would only savor his panic and pain. So instead, he forced a smirk, though his lips trembled with the effort.

  “You heard me,” he said. Each word felt like a gamble, but he clung to his bravado as much as he could. Inside, his frustration churned like butter, as he hated the feeling of being a pawn, or even a spectacle for a sadistic showman.

  The man tilted his head up at him with a wide grin. “Ah, that was what I was waiting for. That little spark of resistance. I don't know why, but I find it more satisfying when they think they still have a chance, don't you agree?”

  Ampelius didn't respond, he just stared at him. Then the wall next to the exit exploded, sending smoke and debris everywhere. The masked men spun around, clearly startled, gripping their bats tightly.

  A few seconds went by when two projectiles whizzed through the smoke, striking the masked men down quickly. Ampelius’ breath caught in his throat, the sudden turn of events so abrupt it felt unreal, like a cruel trick.

  The man in the tuxedo barely had time to react before a blue-tipped spear tore through his chest. His eyes went wide as the weapon began to glow, then his body dissolved into a thick blue paste that splattered across the floor.

  Ampelius couldn't help but laugh at the horror, and the grim satisfaction tangled in his mind as the last remnants of the man slid lifelessly to the ground. The theater fell silent, broken only by the faint crackle of the ruined wall.

  From the smoke emerged a shadowy figure—a Zavon warrior. Its presence sent a chill down Ampelius’s spine, the sight of it jarring against the bizarre relief he felt moments earlier. The Zavon approached the spear lodged in the remains of the man in the tuxedo, adjusting it to vacuum up the blue paste. The efficiency of its actions struck Ampelius as unsettlingly clinical, as though the horror that had unfolded moments ago were nothing more than routine.

  It turned its attention to the two other bodies, repeating the process before holstering the spear on its back. Ampelius held his breath, half-disbelieving the sight in front of him. The sudden shift from terror to hope left his thoughts pretty quickly when he realized he was doomed. Was this salvation, or something worse?

  It didn't take long for the Zavon to look upward, locking eyes with Ampelius.

  “Well, shit,” Ampelius muttered, the words slipping out instinctively. He braced for what he assumed would be his end.

  He watched calmly as it retrieved two boomerang-like weapons from its side and flung them at the ropes. Both snapped off, sending Ampelius and Nova plummeting to the floor.

  He landed hard on his back, feeling pain explode through his body, momentarily paralyzing him. A groan escaped his lips, the disorienting mix of relief and dread still clouding his mind.

  Nova hit a group theater chairs with a heavy thud. Ampelius tried to move, to crawl toward him, but the pain was too intense.

  The Zavon approached Nova first, kneeling beside him, then pulled out a red colored syringe. It injected it into his abdomen, waited a few seconds, then stood up moved toward Ampelius, who watched helplessly.

  “What did you inject him with? What do you want?” Ampelius demanded, as his voice trembled.

  It knelt beside him, pulling out another syringe. Ampelius tried to pull away, feeling the panic surge through him, but his body wouldn’t respond. The needle sank right into his thigh, and a strange liquid rushed through his veins. Within seconds, the pain was gone, washed away by a wave of euphoria.

  He scrambled to his feet, his eyes darting to Nova, who still hadn’t stirred. This relief warred with fresh panic as he saw Nova’s chest rise and fall, still alive—barely.

  “What did you inject us with?” Ampelius shouted, but the Zavon remained silent, stepping back to observe him.

  The creature just stood there, until without a word or gesture, it began to back away, moving toward the hole in the wall it had come through.

  “Where are you going? Come back here, coward!” Ampelius yelled, frustration rising.

  But before this Zavon could step through the hole, two more entered, their weapons drawn. They spotted Ampelius and Nova, their body language becoming aggressive.

  Ampelius braced himself, but to his astonishment, the Zavon that had injected him suddenly turned on its own. In a swift motion, it stabbed one of the newcomers in the neck with a boomerang, then kicked the other back through the hole. They engaged in a brutal struggle, as shadowy forms clashed in the smoke and dust. After a few seconds of fighting, one lifted the other into the air and tore it in half before tossing the remains aside.

  The victorious Zavon, now covered in blue blood, stared briefly at them before turning and walking off into the smoke, disappearing from sight.

  Ampelius’s focus snapped back to Nova as he heard a faint grunt. “Nova? You okay? Can you hear me?” he called, limping over to his fallen friend.

  Nova groaned as he stirred, his eyes slowly opening. “Yeah, I think so. What happened? I remember getting beaten, but now I feel... really good.”

  Ampelius knelt beside him, checking him over. “It’s a long story,” he replied, helping Nova sit up.