5. Beyond The Breaking Point

Nora woke up with deep chills running through her. Ice-cold water drenched her whole body and soaked her clothes. She started coughing, trying to catch her breath. She blinked rapidly to clear the sting from her eyes. She finally opened them to see one of Dante's men standing there with an empty bucket. He stepped back, and Dante came into her still-blurry view. He watched her intently as she wandered back into consciousness.

For an odd moment, she was grateful for the water. She could tell she was getting weaker each day. The stench of her own body was settling over her. The water felt more like a grim kindness than a punishment. She tried to swallow through her raw, dry throat. Fatigue had grown over her so much that it was hard to even tell where exactly it ached. There was no way to keep track of time. No windows. No clock. How long had it been? Days? Weeks? All she could spot was a buzzing overhead bulb. It was always on, casting a pale, unpleasant light across the room. She was attached to that as well, feeling thankful for the little warmth it gave. The small comfort of knowing it would always be there for her.

She let out a hollow, humorless laugh. Look at her now. Grateful for things she would have never even thought about before. Water poured over her to punish her and a light bulb that won't dim. Her life never failed to amuse her, no matter how pathetic it had become. In a place as dark and hopeless as this, even the smallest mercies meant everything.

Her grim thread of thoughts was cut short. "You're awake." Nora didn’t understand why he said it with a hint of surprise. Wasn’t he the one who ordered it? She was starting to get used to the distaste on his lips whenever he looked at her. He took a few steps to tower over her as she lay on the wet floor. "And you are still making me wait, Aria. Not a single answer yet. Not one truth."

Nora braced herself for whatever was coming next. But even that wasn't enough. She barely had time to react before Dante yanked her wrist and pulled her up. Her body screamed in pain as she tried her best to keep herself steady after endless hours spent lying in an uncomfortable position. Her vision threatened to blur for a second but she forced herself not to cry out in pain. Or show any sign of weakness.

"I want you to understand something." Dante's tone was...soft. Even if his voice was laced with vulnerability, his grip on her only tightened. "You can't begin to imagine how innocent he was. Cain... he.. He didn't deserve any of this. He didn't even belong in this life." His fingers dug in, bruising. "I did everything I could to protect him. To keep him away from people like you." His voice betrayed him and broke slightly, showing a rare glimpse of grief. But just as quickly, his expression hardened again, like cold steel.

Nora's silence only seemed to fuel whatever was burning inside him. With a quick flick of his wrist, Dante pulled out a blade. He pressed it to her skin just below her wrist. The sharp edge sliced thin lines across her flesh. Fresh pain was layering over the last. She bit her tongue to hold back a scream. The last thing she would do was let him see her cry. Aria wouldn't have cried.

"You led them to him. You let them get to him." Dante continued as if speaking of Cain itself caused him immense pain. Like burns. Like an old scar tearing again. "And for what? What did you gain, Aria?"

She didn't answer. She wasn't the one to answer nor did she know how. She held her breath as her body grew weaker. Each cut took out an expensive share of her remaining strength and spirit. She kept silent while her mind desperately tried to escape, to shut out the present pain somehow. She thought of her father and his gentle voice. The life she'd had before all this. Before Dante. Before Aria. If she could just go back to those memories, maybe she wouldn't feel the pain.

But Dante's fury showed no end. His words turned more bitter. "Nothing to say?" he spat. "Of course. What more could I expect? You never cared, did you?” he breathed. His disgust was a living thing now. It slithered and coiled tight around Nora, making her suffocate. It wasn’t just the hurt but the way his face twisted in revulsion that made her want to scream. “You are just a coward. A mere...filthy coward.”

The blade glides again, this time deeper. Her body shuddered and her limbs trembled from the effort of holding herself together. Blood started welling to the surface. Warm and sticky, trailing down her arm in slow motion. Nora thought they looked like lazy ribbons. Her vision was swaying and the edges dimming. The whole room tilted.

With one last frustrated shove, Dante knocked her back down. Her body hit the floor hard with a lifeless thud. She barely registered the impact. She was too numb to sense anything.

There’s nothing left to give. Nothing left to fight with.

She heard his footsteps as he turned to leave, but not before he gave her one last look, his gaze filled with disgust.

"You're nothing. Weak, filthy... not worth the air you breathe."

With a dismissive kick that was more insulting than the injury, he sent her rolling onto her side. He walked away, leaving her bleeding and broken on the floor. And just like that, she drifted.

Darkness creeps in at the edges of her mind, soft, inviting. She lets it take her.

Her lashes fluttered shut, and she swore she could hear her father’s voice, warm and safe, calling her back. She was slipping.

But somewhere not far away, something was stirring. Just outside her opaque consciousness... A presence. A shift in the shadows she can’t yet see.

Hope.

Or something like it.