My World of Hell, part two

It went on and on. Hedrack would ask questions and I would keep my mouth shut. He would torture me until I passed out, then cast healing spells to bring me back so they could do it again. Sometimes he brought a woman with him. She was comely and wore virtually nothing. She had a vacant look in her eyes. She seemed disgusted by my torture, but she looked incapable of reacting to it. I wondered if she had been influenced by magic.

That's when it hit me. Why didn't Hedrack just charm me or use some other suggestive magic. Maybe he could find a psion or someone to dig through my mind and collect what information was needed. That would make more sense. Then again, maybe he didn't care about the information. He might have just enjoyed doing this to someone who interfered with his plans.

After a while, the pain went away. I saw myself outside of my body. I saw someone who looked like being tortured in terrible ways, but it wasn't me. At that point, I felt free. I thought that I was dead and that he couldn't hurt me any longer.

One day Hedrack returned, holding up the journal I found in the moathouse.

"Interesting, John Carter," he said. When he spoke my name I found myself back in my own body, as if pulled there by a bungy cord. "You are a storyteller of sorts." He flipped through the pages. "Not a very good one, I'm afraid. Still, the information you provided was inticing."

Hedrack held the book in front of me as I lay on the floor, broken. "Do you know what this was? Did you think it an ordinary journal? This is a means of communication with my superiors. Lareth's went missing after you and your 'adventurer' friends sacked Outpost One. I believe the locals call the place 'the moathouse.' We wondered what became of it. Now we know."

He leaned closer to me. "What you wrote in this journal was also transcribed in an identical journal held by my superiors. They have been privy to your actions and whereabouts ever since."

I started to laugh. It made my ribs hurt, but I couldn't stop. It was the best joke I'd heard in a while.

"What?" Hedrack said. "What is so funny."

"Journal," I muttered. "I know what it is. I know."

His expression didn't change as he waited for me to continue.

"Your boss knows nothing," I said.

"Really?" Hedrack kicked me in my already broken ribs. I coughed blood. One of them probably punctured a lung. Nothing a healing potion can't fix. "You are not a convincing liar."

"He is not lying, High Priestess," a voice said from the shadows. I smiled. I had forgotten about him.

Hedrack turned away from me. "Are you sure."

"Of course, High Priestess," the man said again. "My magic is functioning properly."

"See," I said again. It was hard to speak with blood filling up in my mouth. I spit it out and spoke anyway. "Your superiors no nothing. If they did, they would try to contact you."

He stared at me like a deer in headlights. "How do you know this?"

"We got around with ease," I said. "Anyone who found us did so by accident." I started to laugh again. "Man, you guys are fricking clueless."

Hedrack's temper cooked off like TNT. He kicked me again and again. Each time it felt like my insides exploded. I kept laughing and laughing. At some point he stopped. I heard him mumble something about healing potions before I passed out once more.

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John?

John are you awake?

I stirred. I opened my eyes. I was in my room at the Inn of the Welcome Wench, in Hommlet. Somehow, I knew it was a dream.

I turned over. Anna lay there, her clothing gone. Every inch of her was perfect. Her eyes narrowed at me as she smiled.

You're not finished already, are you?

"Hells no," I said, and I reached for her.

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"Who were you speaking to just now?"

I opened my eyes, in the real world this time.

"You were dreaming, yes?" Hedrack knelt next to me. "I must be losing my touch. I've never had anyone fall asleep on me during a session."

He pointed at my hands. Small pieces of wood had been jammed under my fingernails. I could see them clearly under each nail as they went deep into my finger. I tried to bend them, but the wood was deep enough I could not do so. Every little movement felt like a paper gut under my skin.

"I'd say your losing your mind," Hedrack said. "Sooner than I expected."

I said nothing. I didn't care.

"You have some interesting trinkets in your collection," he said. He shined my flashlight in my face. I recoiled from the bright light.

"It doesn't radiate magic," he said, "and it seems too trivial to be some kind of Suloise or Baklunish artifact."

"Not magic," I mumbled. "Technology."

He raised an eyebrow at my response.

"A tool," I said. "Common place on my world."

"Your world." Hedrack turned to face his priest. Satisfied, he turned toward mea again. "Curious. How did you get here."

"I don't know," I said. "I went to sleep and woke up in this world."

"Interesting," he said. He held up my compass. "This always points north?"

I nodded as best as I could.

"Could prove useful," he said to himself. "More on your toys later. Tell me, where did you find this?"

He held up the golden skull. It gleamed in the meager torchlight, as if taking in all available light for its own use. I could feel its vile filth, even through my own pain.

"Wizard," I said.

"Wizard?"

I nodded. "And his half orc guard."

"You must mean Falrinth," Hedrack said. He swore loudly. "What did you do with them?"

"I let them go," I said.

Hedrack turned to face is priest for confirmation. He must have given it.

"Well, they have not returned to me," Hedrack said. "That makes them traitors. Falrinth and that half-breed of his will be dealt with accordingly."

He regarded me coolly. "In the mean time, where were we?"

It began again.