Grayson's Veil
Chapter 27

With Grayson’s horse dead, he had no other choice but to walk back.

With each step, his apprehension continued to build.

He stop several times to take in his surrounding, debating if he could go around the camp or just run away. Avice and Phoebe were both being taken care of, so in reality he did not need to worry about them.

But each time he tried to step away from the path, he was tugged back onto it. It was almost like he had an invisible string attached from him to Uphir, and each time he deterred, he would get dragged back.

Uphir was not going to let him back out of their agreement.

Continuing to feel the pull, Grayson trekked on.

By the time he made it back to the campsite, the sun was receding behind the horizon.

Uphir was back in his old man skin with the hood over his face, smoking his pipe in front of the fire. His head steadily raised as Grayson walked closer.

“Did you have trouble with the creature?” Uphir spoke in his old raspy voice, a hint of a smirk on his lips apparent.

Grayson shook his head, deciding to stay standing on the other side of the fire even though his body was burning with exhaustion.

Uphir hummed while taking a puff off his pipe.

The familiar itch began to creep along Grayson’s skin.

“Can we get the payment over with? I need to get back,” Grayson said as he began to rub his neck.

Uphir stayed silent, watching Grayson move uncomfortably. With a single nod, he stood up quickly, motioning for Grayson to follow.

Hesitating for a second but feeling the need to fulfill his end of their bargain, he followed him into the tent.

Inside the tent was surprisingly bright, but the sight was not like before.

Although, it was still oddly clean for Uphir’s line of work.

Uphir walked away as he began to strip his skin, leaving Grayson to take in the new scene.

There were eight men naked and terrified, with their skins still attached, strapped to the torture devices and tables. The others from before were gone, no trace of their blood, organs, or bodies in sight.

Grayson felt a twinge of guilt for the skinless woman, though there was not much he could have done to help her. The moment her skin was off her body, she was Uphir’s.

Each man turned their heads towards Grayson, fear dancing on their features as they realized another had come to join.

And pure terror entered their eyes the moment they recognized Grayson, and Grayson recognizing them.

“What is this? Why are they here?” Grayson asked with his own fear and anger creeping in.

The men were from the militia that had followed and attacked Avice, Grayson and Phoebe just days before.

“They trespassed on my property,” Uphir explained as he walked back to Grayson. His black exterior reflected back the fires from the pedestals, making him appear to be on fire. He paused next to Grayson, who was now full-on scratching his skin, and gave him a drink in a lava stone mug.

Grayson downed the drink without a thought.

His eyes danced with mischief as he regarded Grayson. “It is obvious they followed you, being so far from the town you live near. How does that make you feel, traveler?” The word traveler felt fictitious, like Uphir knew who he was, but wanted to continue to mock him.

Anger began to take over Grayson’s rising fear.

Those men were his to deal with, not Uphir’s.

Clenching his jaw and balling up his fists, Grayson glared at Uphir.

“I will deal with them.” He grounded out. A few of the men protested, but neither Grayson nor Uphir heard.

Uphir shook his head slowly, his eyes staying on Grayson.

“No. They were mine the moment they stepped through my wards, and you know it. Just like you are mine,” A malicious smile spread across Uphir’s features.

Grayson narrowed his eyes at the demon physician. “What?”

Uphir moved closer. “You drank from my mug. Drank liquid laced with my tobacco. Took my advice in where to replace the creature with the amulet. You. Are. Mine.”

Grayson dropped the mug so he could grab his sword, but was too late. Uphir backhanded him, causing a black curtain to fall over his eyes while the pain and exhaustion overtook him.

Grayson woke several hours later.

He stared up at the tented ceiling as he began to regain feeling in his limbs. A thousand needles felt like they were pricking his skin, a telltale sign that his blood flow had been disturbed while passed out.

A moan to his right made him look over in confusion.

One of the militia men was laying on a table next to him. Grayson’s eyes widened at how close and how level he was with him.

He moved to bring up his arms, only to be stopped immediately by cuffs pinching into his wrist and chains limiting his reach.

He tried his feet, but alas, it was the same case as his arms.

Trying to steady his breathing, Grayson moved his head fanatically around to gauge what kind of situation he was in.

It was not good.

Uphir had just used a saw on a militia man. His upper body and lower body were apart a few inches. The man’s eyes were glazed over, indicating he had been dead for a little while. Blood dripped down the table, making a steady rhythm that was digging into Grayson’s brain.

Grayson turned his attention to the other torture devices, each having been used and possessing a body.

His stomach churned at the sight of one of the men using the Judas chair. With his hands tied behind his back and weights tied to his ankles, his upper body was lightly hung up with a rope underneath his arms. The most disturbing part was the tip of the pyramid was lodge in his anus, at least a good inch deep, and stayed there thanks to the weights. Fresh blood covered the sides of the pyramid, but the stillness of the body and the way his head was tilted back made Grayson think the man was passed out from the pain.

The man using the iron chair was gritting his teeth with tears in his eyes, trying hard not to make a sound and draw the demon physician to him.

He failed.

Uphir heard his small whimper and casually walked over to him.

The man started shaking his head, “No, no, no, please, no.” He pleaded while Uphir inspected him.

Grayson almost believed he would let the guy go.

Almost.

Uphir tightened the straps on the chair, causing the man to pull further into the spikes. He was officially, halfway down the two-inch spikes.

The crackling of the fires was replaced by the man’s pain filled screams.

Uphir grabbed the man’s face and inspected him. After a minute, he released him, mumbling to himself as he walked back to the dead split man.

Even with all the gore that was going on, Grayson could not help but notice how clean the torturous tent was.

It was beginning to get on his nerves.

“Welcome back,” Uphir said above him.

Grayson jumped, unsure how the demon physician knew he was awake, or how he was in front of him without making a sound.

“You must have some questions. Let me explain.” Uphir had a towel between his hands, using it to clean them and the table as he spoke.

“I know exactly who you are. And I know exactly what you are. Grayson, the half-demon with memory loss. So sad.” He set the towel aside then grasped Grayson’s face harshly.

“YOU!” Uphir began with passion leaking into his voice, “are a physician’s dream. Now that you are here, trapped with me, I can study you.” He started to laugh. “You are so incredibly rare, Grayson!”

Uphir leaned forward, his forehead touching Grayson’s. “If you make it out of here alive, question the priest and nun about your parents,” he whispered. Tilting his head down, Uphir kissed Grayson’s forehead in an almost caring way.

Grayson’s eyes went wide.

He was now an experiment in the hands of a dangerous, curious demon.

‘Demon?’ Grayson faintly called out in his mind.

“Oh, and don’t bother trying to get in touch with you demon. He is lying dormant thanks to the drink I gave you before you passed out.” Uphir dropped Grayson’s head with a loud thud. He walked away, but Grayson did not notice.

He was too busy panicking.

‘Ok, ok.’ He tried to breath and reason with himself, ‘you can do this. Just get through his experiments, then he is repaid, and you can get back to replaceing Ellie.’

The thought of Eleanor calmed him more than he could hope.

Taking a deep breath, he waited for Uphir.

The demon physician came back with a new device. Before Grayson could question it, Uphir slid a device onto his head and attached it to the table.

He secured the device using screws to the table, then twisted the screws onto Grayson’s temporal region, just above the ears.

Grayson held in his pained protests, knowing that this was not going to be the worst of it. His fists turned white from squeezing them so hard, and his jaw clenched harder and harder at each twist. The familiar smell of fresh blood wafted to his nostrils just as he felt a trickle drift down his head.

Uphir mumbled more as he moved away, deep in his thoughts of research.

With his breathing increasing again, Grayson tried moving his head with no luck.

His eyes darted rapidly, but he could not see anything other than the tented ceiling and shadows from the fires.

Surprisingly, the militia men were silent.

Uphir appeared in his peripheral. Small tink sounds came from beside his ear, letting Grayson know that there were tools being place next to his head.

When Uphir was satisfied, he came back into Grayson’s view.

He smiled happily, and sadistically.

“Has anyone ever told you, you have the most unusual eyes?” He paused, waiting for Grayson to answer.

Grayson’s jaw ticked as he wondered where the conversation was going. “My wife, she found them to be beautiful and a good way to understand my mood. The town’s people found them to be too odd and nearly tried to get me hung as a witch.”

Uphir listened with fervor.

“Interesting,” he muttered.

He grabbed Grayson’s face harshly, squeezing his cheeks so his lips pursed out.

“I replace them to be crucial in my research. So, without further ado, I will be claiming the colors of your eyes.”

Grayson’s eyes filled with realization, then pure terror.

Uphir picked up a medical instrument, slowly bringing it into Grayson view.

It was a large needle with a syringe attached.

“If you move too much, then you might lose your eyesight. Don’t you want to see Eleanor’s smile again?” Uphir laughed as he lowered the needle, piercing into Grayson’s eyes.

Grayson tried to scream but could not with Uphir tightly holding his face. The only thing he could do was feel the pain, and feel his sanity take another crack.