Page 91 of Semper
Theron, still watching his daughter with barely restrained disgust, shook his head as if trying to shake the burden of his thoughts.
His voice was quiet when he finally spoke. “What will become of Henry?”
Ah, Henry. Nicolette’s husband. A man as dull as he was uninspiring. Like a Fleshlight. Loyal, yes, but to a fault. He had no idea what was brewing in his wife’s mind. Perhaps that was his greatest failure—his blindness to the rot growing in his own home.
“He’ll be handled separately,” I said, my tone even. “He’ll answer for his failures differently. His ignorance won’t spare him from responsibility.”
Theron nodded slowly, resigned to the fact that his family’s name would be forever tainted by this disaster. “If you seekto spare her,” he began, his voice still as cold as the chamber around us, “do it so that only her holes remain. If she has a child, I can take it and raise it within our family, away from this disgrace.”
The room went still again.
Isaac was the first to break the silence, his brow furrowing in disbelief. “Herholesremain?” he repeated, almost as if testing the absurdity of it.
Bishop let out a bark of laughter. “Now that’s a solution.”
“That’s quite brilliant, actually,” Phoenix chimed in, his voice full of admiration.
He glanced at my Uncle Corbin, who shot him a look of disapproval, but Phoenix didn’t seem to care. This was exactly the kind of twisted challenge he thrived on. “To be clear,” he said, turning to Theron, “you want me to remove everything but the only part of her that’s… useful?”
“Is it really, though?” Emilio quipped, a smirk tugging at his lips as laughter rippled through the room.
I fought to suppress my own grin, the sheer brutality of the situation not lost on me, but Theron’s pragmatic approach was, in its own way, fitting.
He only was here to preserve what little he could of his family’s future, even if it meant sacrificing his daughter’s dignity in the most horrific way imaginable. His face as stoic as ever, nodded once. “Precisely.”
“Brutal and genius,” I agreed. By leaving her stripped of anything but her body’s basest function, she would be reduced to the lowest form of existence on the Isle. A fate worse than death for someone who had once held the status of an Impío woman from a decent household. She’d be nothing more than an actual vessel—if she bore a child, that child would be taken from her, raised in the family, while she faded into oblivion.
Phoenix, clearly pleased with the task ahead, turned his attention back to Nicolette, who remained frozen in the chair, her eyes wide with terror, unable to speak or even plead for mercy. It didn’t matter. Mercy wasn’t something anyone in this room had to offer.
“You heard the man,” I said, my voice low and commanding. “Do what needs to be done.”
Theron’s request wasn’t just a sentence for his daughter—it was a reminder to everyone in the room that loyalty, blood, and duty came before anything else on Stygian Isle.
“You may leave.”
Theron nodded in quiet acceptance, his face unreadable as he turned away. The room fell eerily silent as Nicolette’s soft, desperate whimpers filled the space. She looked to her father, her eyes pleading for some last-minute reprieve.
“Dad… please,” she croaked, her voice muffled by fear and desperation.
But Theron didn’t slow. He didn’t even spare her a glance. The heavy door creaked open, and without a word, he exited the chamber, leaving his daughter to face the consequences alone.
“Cold as ice,” Bishop muttered under his breath, his gaze shifting from Theron’s retreating figure back to Nicolette. “I almost feel bad for her.”
Jamison scoffed quietly. “Almost.”
Phoenix moved toward the far wall where an array of tools and protective gear awaited him. He slipped into a black apron, his fingers tracing the edges of the blades and instruments hanging on the wall as if choosing a palette for an artist’s canvas.
“Don’t take too long,” I said evenly, knowing Phoenix tended to lose himself in his work.
He flashed me a grin, his eyes alight with a sadistic glint. “Don’t worry,Diabolus. I’ll be quick but thorough.” He selecteda sharp, gleaming blade, its edge catching the dim light of the chamber.
I turned my gaze back to Nicolette. Her body trembled as Phoenix approached, his footsteps slow and deliberate.
She tried to move, tried to twist away from the chair, but her restraints held her firmly in place. Her eyes darted from me to Phoenix, panic clouding her features.
"Please," she whimpered, her voice cracking. “I’ll do anything. Don’t… please, don’t.”
I stepped closer, crouching slightly so that I was at eye level with her. I wanted her to see that this wasn’t something I’d do lightly. “You made your choices, Nicolette,” I said calmly, watching her flinch at the coldness in my tone. “Now, you face the consequences. Phoenix will take care of what’s left of you.”