Limbus wasn't able to move his head, but strained his eyes toward the ground to see his pants were removed while his feet were resting in a tub of water. Lifting his eyes up slowly, he realized this was the demon from the funeral, the one who controlled water. That was the only logical explanation for this. The other thing Limbus immediately concluded was any screech on his part would cause the demon to let go of the ropes thereby placing three more deaths on Limbus’ conscience. These two things meant the demon wanted something from Limbus, not his death. At least, not yet. So, at this point, the most Limbus could do was stall until an idea came to him or Hades found him. “If I may, could you be Gaap?”
“Now that is impressive,” Gaap nodded. “So what does that tell you, boy?”
“That you likely have the same powers as Hades, yet over water,” Limbus guessed.
“Indeed I do,” Gaap admitted. “I can travel through it, control it, create illusions from it, and even inflict pain through it.”
On the last, a spike of white hot fire shot up through Limbus’ legs instantly causing him to tense against his bounds which tore into his skin. A second later the pain vanished, leaving him gasping as his eyes found focus once again. Coughing air into his lungs to refill them, Limbus looked back to the floor and found it slick with wetness. In fact, on further observation, the entire place was dank. Gathering his thoughts, he lifted his eyes up. “But every gift HE gave has a weakness. Every power has a limit. So what’s yours?”
“Again, the clever human tries to gain knowledge to glean a strategy,” Gaap nodded. “But enough of your questions and time for some of my own.”
“I won’t answer you,” Limbus stated bluntly.
“Really…oops,” Gaap said wickedly with a tilt of his head as a single rope slipped from his grasp.
“Stop,” Limbus yelled as Tom Rice started to fall, the rope streaming across the floor like a rabid snake, though Gaap didn't move a muscle. Instead, the demon watched Limbus intently as Limbus watched, petrified at what he was witnessing. As if in slow motion, he saw Tom Rice’s head splattered across the floor in a deafening smack before the agent’s body crumpled on top of it.
Revulsion, hatred, endless hurt all overcame Limbus a moment later as he realized his friend’s death. He wanted to break through his constraints and strangle the demon, to break the demon smug look, to conquer the demon’s will, but none were possible. Even a screech wasn't possible unless he wanted to be responsible for two more deaths. And those were two more deaths he was unwilling to pay for.
Gritting back his tempered emotions, he asked between clinched teeth, “What do you want?”
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