Week 61 – Buried alive in the stifling heat

Revenge was sweet, but not sweet enough.

It wasn’t enough to make his brother suffer over and over again. That didn’t bring Alayna back and that was all he really wanted.

But since he couldn’t have that Mekhi was going to enjoy every second of torturing Damian and then he was going to move on to every other member of his family.

They were all his prisoners now. He and the few men who were loyal to him had captured them all. If it he hadn’t had one of his men pretending to be with Damian then it would be him and Alayna trapped down here. He owed Heath his life and the man would be well repaid for all he had done.

Mekhi paused in front of a door and peered through the small window to look inside the room. Damian lay on the floor of the sauna, eyes closed, unmoving, but not dead. He made sure someone checked on him at regular intervals. He didn’t want his brother dead just yet, but being buried alive in the stifling heat of the sauna would make Damian wish he was.

He was ready to have Damian removed from the sauna and move on to the final stage. He’d had enough of playing with his brother. Six months of inflicting every horror he could come up with on him had taken its toll and Mekhi didn’t think that Damian’s body could hold out much longer.

Before he inflicted one last torturous death on him there was something he had to do.

Leaving the dungeon he headed upstairs to his room. His and Alayna’s room. It was where he spent most of his time, if he wasn’t in the dungeon he was up here. With her, his beautiful, bright, shining star. His heart physically ached being away from her. Nothing he could do to Damian would ever be enough to erase that pain.

“Hi, baby,” he said as he went to the bed, brushing her silky locks off her forehead.

Alayna didn’t respond. Couldn’t respond. She had been in a coma since that day six months ago where his brother had tried to take his girl from him.

Six months of hell. Watching the woman he loved just lie there, unable to even breathe without the aid of a ventilator. He was lucky to still have her, he knew that. She should be dead. If his doctor wasn’t as good as he was, or had arrived just a couple of minutes later then he would have lost her.

At least now there was hope.

Despite the doctor’s insistences that she would never wake up, Mekhi couldn’t give up hope. He wouldn’t do that to Alayna. She had never given up on him. No matter what he had done, no matter how he had hurt her, no matter who he was she had never given up on him. She had loved him, and he would love her until the end.

The bullet to her abdomen that had ripped her from him, had at least done one good thing. It had ruined the word Damian had been sewing into her flesh. Alayna didn’t belong to his family, she belonged to him, and he was going to give them both their revenge.

“It’s time, baby,” he whispered, resting his forehead against hers. “I’m going to make his death as slow and agonising as I can.”

Mekhi was going to skin his brother alive and record every scream so he could play them for Alayna when it was all over. He had to believe that wherever she was and whatever of her former self still remained inside her would take comfort from hearing the screams of the man who had hurt her.

He pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, then with more bloodlust that was healthy went to kill his brother.