The man chuckled, his high cheekbones lifting into a charming smile as he nodded. "You guessed it right, I am the pastor..."
Cassian froze in shock. Here he was, face to face with the man they had been hunting for months. But as he studied the pastor, Cassian couldn't reconcile the man standing before him with the horrors he had committed—the massacres of entire families.
The pastor looked nothing like the monster Cassian had imagined. He appeared to be a charming young man, with a warm smile and a gentle, well-mannered way of speaking. But Cassian had seen enough in his life to know that appearances could be deceiving. He steeled himself, his vigilance returning as the pastor continued, his voice smooth and calm.
"That aside," the pastor said, "have you figured out why you're here, chained up ?"
Cassian had a few guesses, but he kept them to himself. The young man's gaze remained steady, his smile soft but his eyes closed in a way that gave nothing away. Despite the expression, there was no emotion behind it—at least none that Cassian could read.
He stayed silent for several long moments, his lips twitching slightly as he finally spoke again. "Why go through all this pain? Just answer my questions. It's not like I'm asking you to spill about Katherine Ven Dyke. Just tell me... why do you think we kidnapped you?"
Cassian's mind raced. The mention of Lady Katherine sent a jolt of surprise through him. So, his connection to her had been exposed. That only added another piece to the puzzle of why he was here. Still, he didn't let the shock show on his face. He remained silent, unwilling to give the pastor the satisfaction of seeing him rattled.
Pastor Abraham's expression grew more annoyed at the silence, his patience thinning. "I would've had you spilling everything by now if it weren't for that damn spell shielding your mind from my magic," he said, his finger pointing sharply at Cassian's head.
Cassian's mind raced, confusion settling in. He had thought it was Detective Killian's mind shield rock that was protecting him, but it seemed there was someone else also shielding him from these kinds of attacks.
His first guess was Lady Katherine—who else would bother? But before he could fully process how grateful he should be to her, the pastor's questioning grew more intense, and a cold wave of fear washed over him. He really didn't want to endure any more pain. He was on the edge of giving in if the pastor asked him one more time, but it didn't matter.
Before he could even decide how to respond, the pain hit him like a wave. His eyes felt like they were on fire, burning from the inside out. A searing heat exploded in his head, and before he could grasp what was happening, his vision turned red, blood dripping from his eyes.
"Ahhhh! Ahhhh!" Cassian screamed, the agony consuming him. The pain was all that existed now—everything else faded away, and he could only focus on the overwhelming, blinding sensation. The shock left him unable to think, his mind blank except for the unbearable torment.
The pain in Cassian's eyes intensified, like molten fire coursing through his veins, until it felt as if his very eyeballs were going to burst. His vision blurred with the crimson flood, and the agony only deepened. Then, the pain shifted—traveling from his eyes to his ears. It felt like someone was driving needles into his skull, his eardrums throbbing as if they were about to explode. Blood began to drip from his ears, the warm, sticky flow mingling with the tears of agony streaming from his eyes.
Cassian didn't understand how the pastor was doing this to him, how he was able to cause such unbearable pain. His body writhed in the chains, desperate for relief, but the pain was relentless. It consumed him. He fought against it, trying to hold on for as long as he could, but it became too much. His resolve shattered.
"I'll—I'll answer! Just stop!" he screamed, the words torn from him as the excruciating torment made him desperate.
The pain abruptly stopped. The silence that followed was deafening, and Cassian gasped for breath, his chest heaving as he tried to steady himself. When he dared to open his eyes, expecting to see the young pastor, he was met with a completely different sight. The fat man from before stood in front of him, his wide grin stretching unnervingly across his face, a single white eye staring into Cassian's.
"You want to answer some questions now?" the fat man asked, his voice dripping with amusement.
Cassian nodded weakly, his vision clearing slightly as blood continued to drip from his face. The searing pain in his eyes began to fade, but shame clawed at him. Admitting defeat so quickly stung his pride, but he knew he was already done for. There was no escape, no hope of turning this around. The only thing he could do now was make his end a little less painful.
He remembered Lady Katherine's advice—if ever caught, spill everything. Survival mattered more than secrets. So, he prepared himself to answer, even if it meant revealing everything, including the warrior training system. Anything to avoid more torture.
But the fat man's grotesque smile widened unnaturally—literally stretching from ear to ear. Cassian's heart sank as his hopes of mercy vanished. The grin wasn't just sinister; it was a warning.
"Too late..." the fat man said, his voice low and mocking.
Before Cassian could fully register the fat man's words, a fist slammed into his stomach with brutal force. The impact sent a fresh wave of agony ripping through his body, blood gushing from his mouth as he struggled to draw a breath. It felt as though his insides had been shredded, the pain so intense it left him teetering on the edge of unconsciousness once more.
But the torment didn't stop there. Before the searing pain could even begin to fade, another wave of agony erupted from his thigh. There was a sickening crack, the unmistakable sound of bone snapping. "Gurrlll..." Cassian's throat strained to release a scream, but all that came out was a gurgling sound, his voice drowned by the blood filling his mouth.
The pain became unrelenting. Another crack followed, this time from his leg. His body convulsed as his head tilted down to see the source of the horrific sound. His thighs were bent at an unnatural angle, the grotesque sight making his stomach churn.
The man responsible stared at him with twisted glee, his bloodshot eyes wide with sickening pleasure. "How do you like my bone-shattering fist?" he asked, his voice dripping with sadistic amusement.