The Embrace of Death
A THIN TRICKLE OF blood seeped from the corner of Aksak Faroud's swollen mouth as he spat in the face of the brawny Hades Consortium jailer in front of him. The jailer cackled remorselessly and punched him in the gut. Faroud's head snapped back, striking the base of his skull against the solid rock wall, and his eyes rolled listlessly in his head. Blood-soaked bile spewed from his mouth, dribbling down onto his bare chest.
'You Clan Scarabs are not like us. You are filth, picking off any carrion weaker than you. Thieving…intimidating…killing. But no more,' said Jailer Veriz, wiping his hand over his mouth as he savoured his attack. He leaned closer, his eyes scouring every inch of Faroud's face in detail, as if he despised every speck of his being. 'This is how the Hades Consortium treats animals like you.'
'You…think yourself so different…to me?' protested Faroud weakly, barely able to vocalise the words. 'We do what we do…to survive. What is your excuse?'
Faroud was silenced by a blow to the ribs and the breath was purged from his lungs. His Scarab brothers, Kulfar and Nehmet, had been the lucky ones. Death had claimed them quickly. Faroud knew that soon he would join them. He did not have the strength within him to fight any longer and falling into death's embrace seemed more appealing by the second. As Jailer Veriz clenched his fists once again, Faroud closed his eyes tight, knowing this was the end. There was no one to save him now.
Or so he believed.
Faroud heard a sudden noise…a dull clang of metal striking against something solid. He opened his eyes slowly.
Standing over the unconscious body of his jailer was an elderly woman clad in an elegant mud-splattered dress, with a pair of heavy iron manacles swaying in her hands. Faroud blinked hard to remove the delusion, but to his surprise, it did not dissipate.
'Who…are you?' asked Faroud dazedly.
'Escape first, introductions later,' replied Madame Destine. 'We have to find Cornelius!'