Page 48 of Drown Me Gently

Ulric stopped at the final door, pressing an ear to the small iron-barred opening at its center. At first he heard nothing, only the steady drip of water echoing through the dank halls. Then a small shuffle. Of movement. Of struggle. And a whimper.

It slipped beneath the doorframe. Not a scream, not even a cry, just a wet hitch of air, like something trying not to choke.

Ice sliced through Ulric’s veins.

Auren.

Then came a second sound. The human, Elias. His voice was smooth, as if he were proud of his cruelty.

“You’re doing so well, sweetheart. There now, look how the muscle twitches when I peel it back. It’s like you’re performing for me. I’ll admit, I was hoping to save this for later and give you more time to heal. But your body begs to be explored.”

Another faint sound of a struggle, but weak… so weak.

“Now, now, love… don’t wriggle so much. You’ll ruin the stitching.” A pause. A quiet chuckle. “Though with legs like yours, perhaps you’d look better ruined.”

Ulric’s fist shattered the door. It didn’t swing open—it cracked clean off the hinges. And for a moment, Ulric questioned whether he’d stepped into the vilest pit of the underworld.

Auren lay spread across a heavy wood table, his skin pale as bone, a patchwork of stitches carved along his chest, his arms, his sides. Some fresh, some crusted in blood. One leg twitched reflexively—nerves misfiring. His lips were a ghostly shade of blue. His crimson hair was plastered to the surface with rust-colored clots. His eyes were open, but dull. Dry. Like he’d stopped blinking regularly.

Ulric’s sweet, wild prince looked hollow. Wounded and emptied of life.

Elias didn’t even flinch. He adjusted the magnifying lenses strapped across his eyes and continued digging into the exposed muscle in Auren’s bicep. Surgical hooks held the skin apart as he inspected the sinew and flexor tendons beneath.

“Oh,” Elias said mildly, as if commenting on a guest’s unexpected arrival. “I expected someone to come and collect.”

Ulric didn’t speak, just blinked in stunned shock. At the human’s words. At the scene before him. In all his centuries…

Elias gave a light, pleased chuckle. “I should’ve guessed. A face like his?” He gestured toward Auren’s motionless form. “Of course, he’d be the whore of the sea. Probably expensive too.”

Ulric’s eyes darkened, but his voice, when it came, was calm. Calm as the sky with a hurricane on the horizon. Calm as the waves before the tsunami brings destruction.

“Do you even know what you’ve done?”

Elias tilted his head, as though puzzled by the question. “I preserved him. Studied him. If anything, he should thank me.”

“You…you…” Ulric could hardly speak through the rage smashing the inside of his skull. “You broke him.”

“I’ve studied him,” Elias said coolly, wiping blood from his fingers with a cloth. “And I think you’ve arrived just in time to strike a deal. That’s what you sea monsters do, isn’t it? Trade, bargain, barter.” He smiled like a man holding all the cards. “So name your price. I know how this works. The sea demands tribute. Coin. Flesh. Secrets. Name it, and I’ll pay. Or the royal court will. I can assure you, they’ll be generous.”

Ulric stared at the human for a long, terrible moment. Then he smiled. Not the smile of a man. The smile of something long past morality. Past reason. A smile carved from rage and grief. It wasn’t human. It wasn’t a creature. It was a weapon. And it was awake.

“You think there exists compensation for what you’ve done?”

Elias’s fingers twitched, and he removed the magnifying lenses from his eyes. He looked confused. “Well, of course. Everything has a price.”

“I have lived through the birth and drowning of kingdoms. I’ve bartered with storms and wrestled gods. You think you have something I want?”

A rumble of thunder shook the walls as he moved closer, a cloud of black mist seeping in, covering the floors and climbing the walls. And when the Kraken spoke, it was as if the abyss had found voice.

“I want your silence. I want your screams. I want to peel back every layer of that twisted mind and see how you whimper when you’re laid bare.”

Elias finally stepped back, and Ulric’s lips curled, revealing his serrated shark’s teeth.

“Good,” he whispered. “Now you understand.”

He bit down. The capsule cracked between his molars like glass. Pain bloomed under his tongue as the potion spilled down his throat, and in seconds, the magic took him. Power flooded his body like a black tide breaking free. Bones twisted. Muscles surged. Flesh rippled and tore as obsidian skin replaced legs. Nine monstrous limbs erupted from beneath his cloak, curling with liquid fury.

Elias screamed.