Menelaus delivered a sudden backhand to Kallen's ear; blunt, forceful and disorienting. Kallen's already fragile senses were once again, disoriented.
As fast as he could, Menelaus unshackled Kallen and slammed him forward—face-down onto the table, rocking his body, and even throwing his senses into a network that responded to nothing but pain.
Before Kallen could recover, Menelaus locked down his limbs with fresh chains, binding him so tightly he could barely move a centimeter.
Only then did Menelaus return to his work, satisfied. Releasing a deep breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
He began to carve the third rune circle across Kallen's back.
This one stretched from shoulder to tailbone; wide, jagged and elaborate.
Blood gushed out in waves, pooling beneath the table and soaking the floor.
Kallen's breathing had grown shallow... too shallow. It seemed like he was only moments away from dying of blood loss.
And he should have died.
