Dungeon

CHAPTER 20 - THE DRIP OF DREAD

"8, 9, and 10! I'm coming!"

Jessica tried to hide her anticipation as she hid behind a cupboard from her brother. Hide and seek was a daily routine in her schedule, and a day without that was like losing her favorite box of candies.

Jayden walked towards the cupboard and found a small pair of tiny hands poking out through the small space. He smiled and moved away, wanting to play with his sister for some more time. "It's too hard to find you, is it?"

Before Jessica could run to touch the wall to win the game, she was halfway up in the air, and she knew she had lost. The familiar warmth of her brother's hand when he picked her up was always a warm comfort for her.

Suddenly, the splashing sound of water reverberated throughout the room, dissolving Jayden's image as he slowly disappeared. Jessica tried to reach out to him, but her hands swept past through thin air.

Jayden? Jayden!

Jessica woke up with a start, fresh air gushing throughout her lungs, breathing life into them. The surge of flowing energy felt like she had just woken up from a deep coma. She tried to move, but her hands were tied to a chair and her legs were wet. She looked down to find that she was gagged up in the middle of a river, but as she looked around, she saw that she was in an enclosed space.

An enclosed river? What is this place?

She tried to raise her forehead, but it seemed too heavy for her to lift. As she leaned forward, something cut deep into her wrists, which made her scream out in pain. She turned behind to find that she was bound not by rope but by barbed wire glued with thorns.

The blood oozing out of her wrists merged with the water beneath her feet and flowed together in unison. Suddenly, a song hummed around her ears, which startled her senses. She looked around but couldn't see anyone.

"From John, the truth unfurls, the wound that speaks, a secret whirls. In blood and water, a mystery deep, a truth to sow, a soul to reap."

Jessica understood the pun in the killer's song, which made her let out a small sigh. Her mind recalled the verse in John 19:34 as she looked down upon the water in which her blood was dissolved. One of the soldiers pierced Jesus' side with a spear, bringing a sudden flow of blood and water.

"Now should I create a new lyric to make you understand why I have chosen the best device to gag you?"

Tears flowed across her cheeks as the barbed wire cut further into her wrists. The cilice is a spiked device that was mainly worn by some penitents and ascetics to inflict upon themselves the same pain Christ suffered on the cross wearing the crown made of thorns.

The earpiece inside her ear cracked with a roar of laughter. "You nonsensical faithful follow the way, or as you call it, and yet you lot cry out loud when you suffer the same as written in your book?"

Jessica spat on the river and tried to conjure up the energy in her veins, which now seemed to drain away with each second. "If people like you had some faith in yourselves, the world would have been a better place."

Once again, a loud laughter emanated through the earpiece, but this time the tone was filled with mockery. "Darling, trust me, you would want to confess and repent at least a thousand times for spitting on this water."

Jessica tried to reply, but her forehead seemed to weigh heavier and heavier by the minute. She strained herself to look up, and when her eyes took in the contents, her soul pleaded with her to say her final prayers. It was not the HydraHepA that shook her, but a small dripper beside it, which kept dripping cold drops of water on her forehead every two seconds.

"Isn't the Chinese water torture a thing of beauty? Simple yet deadly." The voice laughed, and Jessica sensed that he was exhaling the sensation of the whole thing.

Described by Hippolytus De Marsiliis in Italy in the 15th century, Chinese water torture, or a dripping machine, is a process in which cold water is slowly dripped onto the scalp, forehead, or face for a prolonged period. The process causes fear and mental deterioration in the subject. The pattern of the drops is often irregular, and the cold sensation is jarring, which causes anxiety as a person tries to anticipate the next drip.

Jessica felt her eyes sag and her vision swirl as her mind prepared itself for a never-ending saga of hallucinations that was about to hit her in a couple of hours.

"Ooh, darling, I'm just following what your so-called savior told. Ah, what was it? Oh yes! Anyone who gives you a cup of water in my name, because you belong to the Messiah, will certainly not lose their reward. I'm giving you water, and in turn, let's see if your God grants me my reward."

Jessica's eyes could no longer handle the pressure. She felt her eyes close and her hands give away as blood kept oozing at its leisure, merging with the cold water beneath her. As her silent heart anticipated its dread, her mind kept floating towards one person.

Bryan... where are you?

Four thousand and twenty-eight miles away, Washington, DC, seemed quite different than usual. President Hayden Stonehill sat at his vintage desk, which was made from premium African blackwood. The air around him was fused with a smell of freshly ground Arabica coffee and a cool breeze that was flowing through the large windows.

Although in his mid-fifties, the fine wrinkles glimmered with fresh sweat, which beaded across his forehead. A red envelope lay open on the fine desk, bearing the Spanish coat of arms. Stonehill tried his best to process the contents, but the answer was lucid and simple as he saw his thirty years of political prestige crumble down due to a small misunderstanding caused by an unknown psychopath.

Prepárate para la guerra. Prepare for war.