ROSES HAVE THORNS-Chapter 105 - Bored Women Breaks Hearts

On the other side of the fortress, far from the dungeon of Kurt and Violet’s fight, Dominik and Emelie were being led down a sterile, stone-walled corridor by Thomas. The prisoner shuffled between them as his eyes darted around in terror.

"We’re nearly there, my new brothers and sister." Thomas’ voice echoed through the silence. "Still, I must say, I am pleased to know that we have such devoted new blood joining our brotherhood. Imagine my surprise when you told me that the first stop you wanted to visit was the main reason this fortress was built. Most newcomers immediately ask to visit our place of worship. The love they hold in their hearts for Goddess Bula always seems to take president over all else."

"Of course, Brother Thomas." Dominik walked up next to him. "Our mission to snuff out any blasphemers and heretics will always be our first priority. Those false priests at the church dare claim that the Goddess has a direct descendant while ignoring our existence? The nerve! We are her children. And we will show them exactly what happens when they deny us by making an example of those children. This is our way of showing how much we love Her. Isn’t that right, Sister?"

"... You speak no lies, Brother." Emelie responded, keeping her head and hood low.

"Truly. I cannot express how lucky we are to have such focused devotees." Thomas wiped a tear sliding down his face. "And worry not. When the time comes for us to execute our in killing those blasted children, you two will have a front seat. Perhaps, you may even partake in the event. I will definitely put in a good word for you. That is, if Tobias decides to get his act together..."

"W-Where is B-Bishop Tobias!?" Mr. Shittypants ran up to Thomas and grabbed the sleeve of his cloak.

"Finally, you speak. I was beginning to worry, Brother...?"

"Mr. Sh– No! D-Duncan! I am Brother Duncan! Please, you must tell me where Bishop Tobias is! I must know!" Mr. Shittypants began frantically pulling and pushing Thomas.

"H-Hold on, Brother Duncan. Please, calm down. You going to tear my robes–"

"BISHOP TOBIAS! W-WHERE IS BISHOP TOB–"

"Whoa there, Brother Duncan!" Dominik pulled him off Thomas and covered his mouth. "Didn’t you tell me that you took your meds this morning? I can’t believe you lied to me, haha. I’m so sorry about him, Brother Thomas."

"It’s ok. I am not hurt. Brother Duncan, however, does not seem well. You said he has not taken his medication? Then you should take him to the medical room. It’s three doors back from the way we came."

"I’ll take him." Emelie grabbed his arm and whispered to him, "You better shut the fuck up before I shut it for you."

Sensing the killing intent from Emelie, Mr. Shittypants nodded meekly and walked behind her.

"Please excuse me, Brother Thomas, I’ll be leaving for now. I will catch up later though. Once our friend here has calmed down." Emelie gave a slight bow before leaving them.

"What a poor soul. May the Goddess watch over him during his struggle." Thomas brought his hand together and prayed.

"Amen." Dominik followed suit.

"Anyways, come. We are very close to our destination."

"Lead the way."

After reaching the end of the hallway and going up some stairs, they entered an elevated room that looked to be like a comfortable living room with couches all facing a closed shutter.

’What the hell is this place?’ Dominik looked around in bewilderment.

Thomas stepped up to a console and near the shutter and pressed a sequence of heavy iron buttons. With a low, mechanical rumble, the massive metal shutters began to slide open. Behind them was a wall of thick, tempered glass that looked down into a cavernous hall below.

"Behold, my brother." Thomas gestured with his hand for Dominik to look through.

And so, he did.

Below them was a gargantuan playroom, lit by soft, artificial golden light. It was beautiful, filled with toys and soft rugs. But the sheer scale of it was haunting. Hundreds of children, ranging from toddlers to young teens, were scattered across the floor. They were playing silently, their movements eerie and synchronized. To Dominik, it looked like a sea of stolen lives kept in a gilded cage beneath the hills.

"What the fuck..." He muttered under his breath. He knew that this is what they came here for, but seeing it now in person, everything just became a whole lot more real.

"Take a good look at those pathetic little faces." Thomas walked up behind Dominik and smiled. "Because it’s the last thing you’ll ever see, Prefect Dominik."

"... Huh? I never told you my– Oh shit–!"

SHATTER!

.

..

...

The hallway outside the Violet’s chamber remained eerily calm, the stone walls muffling the chaotic violence that was taking place. Two cultists, walking past the empty hallway, paused as a particularly loud crash shook the heavily reinforced wooden door. It was followed by a sharp, high-pitched scream that ended in a wet, choking sound.

The younger cultist reached for his sword hilt, eyes wide. "Should we...?"

The elder man just chuckled dryly. He adjusted his hood and kept walking. "Forget it. That’s Sister Violet’s quarters. She probably got her hands on a new plaything. You know how she is. She likes her toys to scream before she breaks them. If you value your skin, you’ll stay as far away from that door as possible unless you want to be the next one on the slab."

"R-Right. It’s all by the Will of the Goddess." The younger man shivered, nodding quickly.

"The will of a bored woman with a whip," the elder corrected. They then moved on, footsteps fading into the distance as they left the screams behind.

Inside the room, the air was thick with the scent of iron as blood splatters lay all around. The sex dungeon was a ruin. The black silk curtains had been shredded to ribbons, the heavy wooden cupboard was a pile of splinters, and the floor was slick with more than just spilled wine.

"Haaa... *Huff* *Puff* ergh..." Kurt leaned against a cracked stone pillar, his chest heaving.

His cloak was gone, his shirt was torn open to the waist, and a jagged, purple welt ran from his shoulder to his hip where the whip had caught him. He wiped a mixture of sweat and grime from his forehead, fixing his one eye on the center of the room.

Violet was hovering three feet off the ground, her head lolling at an impossible angle as her neck knitted itself back together for the third time in ten minutes. Purple swirls of magic pulsed around her midsection once again.

With a sickening, wet splat, another heart burst through the magical vortex her body created and tumbled to the floor. It landed with a heavy splash next to two others that were completely still, glistening in violet slime.

"Three," Kurt panted. "That’s three times I’ve put you down, you freak. Three times I’ve felt your neck snap or your lungs collapse. How many of those things do you have inside you?"

Violet’s head snapped upright. She inhaled deeply, her chest expanding as if she were tasting the very air he breathed. She landed softly on her toes, the purple whip coiling around her arm like a loyal serpent.

"Oh, Kurt," she purred. "Most men can barely handle me once. But you... you’ve taken my life three times over. It’s almost romantic, isn’t it? Such a vigorous, violent courtship."

She stepped over one of her own discarded hearts, crushing it under the heel of her boot without a second thought. A dark, oily substance leaked out, but she didn’t seem to care.

"I have enough hearts to keep us playing until the sun rots out of the sky," she whispered, her tongue flicking over her split lip. "And with every death, I learn a little more about how you move. I can feel your pulse slowing, little boy. The poison is gone, but the exhaustion is a much slower killer."

Kurt didn’t answer. He reached down and gripped a jagged piece of the broken cupboard the size of a shortsword. He didn’t have his primary blades; they were lost in the wreckage, but he had his spite, and he had a mission to complete. Those kids weren’t going to save themselves.

"I’ve got all night," Kurt lied, his muscles screaming in protest as he shifted into a low combat stance. "I’ll carve every single one of those hearts out of you until there’s nothing left but a pile of meat."

"Hehehe~ I do hope you’re still as good with your hands as you are with your tongue."

She cracked the whip. The sound was like a thunderclap in the small room. The purple energy lashed out, not as a single cord, but splitting into three separate ethereal tendrils.

Kurt dived to the right, rolling over the shattered remains of the bed frame. The whip disintegrated the pillar he had been leaning on just a second before, sending a shower of stone dust into the air. He surged forward through the debris, staying low to the ground.

"Ahahahaha!" A genuine sound of manic delight escaped her throat as she laughed.

She then spun in a graceful circle, her cloak flaring out like wings. As Kurt lunged upward with the wooden shard, she didn’t dodge. She caught his wrist with a hand that felt like cold iron, leaning in so close he could see the shimmering violet veins beneath her skin.

"Round four, Kurt," she breathed against his ear, her grip crushing his bones. "Try to make this one last. I’d hate for you to disappoint mommy so soon."

With a surge of her magical strength, she hurled him backward, and the dance of death began again.