Chapter 22 - It was blood

I heard his scream at the threshold of the slaughterhouse, and the metallic smell of blood hit my nose as I headed toward the direction of the sound. Mathew had told me that he insisted he knew nothing, and from the agony I heard in his voice, he couldn't have held out if he truly knew something—they didn't in most cases because although torturing was my expertise, Mathew didn't have a reputation of going soft on anyone.

"Damon is here," one of the loyal men of the Bravta, Noir, announced. He was outside the torture room door since it was a normal procedure that he waits outside. Only Mathew and I have once stayed in a torture room without doing the torture. We were fifteen the first time we watched the former Bravta overlord and his second-in-command extract information by making a strong man sing. I didn't flinch even once, and neither did Mathew. It hadn't been his first time too.

I shook Noir, our signet ring catching the sun. It was a heirloom that we passed on to our sons and th