Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119846 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 599(@200wpm)___ 479(@250wpm)___ 399(@300wpm)
Burn’s hands clenched into fists against the floor.
Fucking sadistic piece of shit. Laughing while we’re on the ground, twitching like puppets on a string.
“Now come along, piggy-wigs—time for play time,” Thune said with faux cheer, his three heads nodding out of sync.
Burn pushed himself up slowly, shakily, muscles trembling as he rose to his full height. Bright was beside him in an instant, a steadying hand on his back.
“Play time?” Burn growled. “What the fuck? After that?”
“Play time is fun for all the piggy-wigs,” Thune said with an oily grin. He waved the pain remote at them like it was a party invitation. “Unless you’d like some more pain time instead?”
Bright’s jaw tensed, and Burn felt a fresh surge of fury boil up inside.
He was ready to tell the fucker to shove the remote up his triple ass when Noelle stepped forward quickly.
“No, no—we don’t want that!” she said, her voice tight with fear. “We’ll do play time.”
Burn’s stomach turned at the tremble in her voice. Clearly she was terrified, but she was doing this for them. His heart fisted in his chest.
“Good, that’s what we like to hear,” Thune’s middle head said brightly. “Come on then, boys and girls—let’s go. All the good little piggy-wigs follow me.”
Burn bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted blood.
One day, he promised himself as they followed the towering Trollox out of the room, one day you’re going to wish you’d killed us when you had the chance, you three-headed fuck. Because when I get the remote away from you, I’ll make you beg for death.
He didn’t say the words out loud. Not yet. But the vow burned bright in his chest.
Play time or not, the clock was ticking.
And when it ran out…there’d be hell to pay.
56
BRIGHT
They didn’t have a choice about doing “play time,” Bright thought. Not really.
The massive Trollox loomed over them in the hallway, his middle head wearing that grotesque parody of a smile—a grin full of rot and malice.
And still, they followed him because what else could they do?
Bright stayed close to Burn and Noelle, subtly positioning himself between the two of them whenever he could. His hand brushed Noelle’s as they walked and he felt her fingers tremble. She didn’t grab him—not here, not now—but that tiny movement told him everything he needed to know.
She’s scared—more than scared—she’s terrified.
Thune shambled ahead of them like a three-headed ogre from a nightmare, humming a tuneless, off-key melody that grated against Bright’s already frayed nerves—especially since he knew what must be coming.
Gods, it’s like he’s enjoying this—like it’s some kind of game to him.
The corridor stretched on longer than he remembered—dark and narrow, the overhead lights flickering intermittently like they were shorting out. The stench of the place was worse than before, too. Thick, humid air, tinged with the scent of spoiled meat and sweat and something faintly metallic—like old blood and cold iron. The scent of Thune himself only added to the miasma.
Bright clenched his jaw, forcing himself not to gag.
Don’t show weakness. Not in front of the Trollox.
He glanced sideways at Burn. The Dark Twin’s face was pale, his jaw tight with pain and fury. The memory of him falling to his knees under the Trollox’s remote still burned in Bright’s mind.
He’s not okay. That shock hit him harder than he’ll admit.
And yet, Burn hadn’t stopped—hadn’t broken. He was still walking, stiff but upright, his eyes burning like coals in a storm. Bright knew that look.
He’s right on the edge of Rage. But losing control and going into a berserker fury wouldn’t help them now—not while Thune still held the remote to all their pain collars.
Just then, the hallway ended at a heavy velvet curtain—thick and faded red, hanging like an ominous theater drape. Thune’s massive hand reached out and yanked it aside with a rustling swish, revealing a thick wooden door.
Thune pulled the creaking thing open, revealing a steep staircase leading down into total darkness.A cold draft flowed up from below, brushing against Bright’s bare arms like the breath of something waiting in the dark.
Noelle inhaled sharply and stopped in her tracks. Bright could smell the spike of her fear—sharp and salt-edged like adrenaline and saltwater.
Burn stepped closer to her instinctively. Bright mirrored the motion.
“You can’t actually expect us to go down there with you,” Bright said to Thune, eyeing the yawning blackness below.
The middle head twisted back toward them, that rancid smile spreading across its face.
“Why not, little piggy-wig?” Thune cooed mockingly. “Don’t worry—there’s no pain down in the play room—only pleasure for the piggy-wigs.”
Pleasure.
The word made Bright’s stomach twist. That tone…that grin…the way Thune looked at them….
I know what he wants. What he’s about to make us do.
He looked at Burn, then at Noelle. Their eyes met and held. There were no words, but they didn’t need them.