His Private Hell - Chapter 114: Chapter 114
You are reading His Private Hell, Chapter 114: Chapter 114. Read more chapters of His Private Hell.
Eella’s eyes opened to darkness. Not the soft, forgiving black of sleep, but the oppressive, suffocating black of a coffin. The hiss of steam whispered through the vents, rattling the chains that bound her wrists to the wall above her head. Silver cuffs bit into her skin, blood bright against pale flesh. Her body ached in places she didn’t remember hurting—shoulders, hips, ankles—all anchored to metal bolts sunk into the concrete.
She tried to shift. The chains rattled. A groan hummed from her throat, half-anger, half-anguish. Something wet dripped onto her hair. She looked up. A lone bulb swung overhead, swaying in a circle of shadows. Beneath it, a dark pool slowly spread across the floor—her blood? Someone else’s? She couldn’t tell anymore.
Her head spun. Through the haze she heard it: a distant hum, like voices echoing through a canyon. Choir voices? No. A chant. A promise. Her name whispered in unison: Eella… Eella…
She clenched her teeth. Would this ever end?
A click. The door creaked open. Light spilled through, carving her world into half-lit ruins. She squinted. Garrison stood there—shirtless, bruised, eyes rimmed with red, face etched in horror and fierce love. Behind him, the Obedience Room corridor was empty. The Choir had vanished, leaving only silence and the buzz of failing lights.
“Eella,” he rasped. His voice cracked like ice underfoot. He crossed to her, each step heavy with guilt. “I—I couldn’t save you.”
She spat blood. “You let me come.” Her voice was steel and sorrow. “You promised you’d never let me face him alone.”
He knelt before her, fingers fumbling at the cuff. “I was punished. Written out. They erased my access, my strength—everything but their fear.”
She met his gaze. “Then earn me back.”
He pressed his forehead to her knees. “I will.”
Behind him, the flickering bulb revealed Astrid—corseted in shadow, lips curled in a void’s smile. “Punishment has a price,” she breathed. “And your debt is due.”
Garrison’s hand twitched. “Astrid—”
She laughed. “Stand down, lover. This is family business now.”
Eella’s chains dropped into silence as a door slid open on hinges sharpened by betrayal. Lazarus emerged—no longer flesh and bone, but a network of shadow and wire. His eyes glowed with the Choir’s echo. On his chest, a beating wound still bled pulsing data into the floor.
“Welcome, children,” he whispered. “To the heart of the Covenant.”
Astrid stepped forward. “You are both late.”
Lazarus’s grin split the dark. “Miracles take time.”
Eella swallowed her fear. “What is this?”
He swept his arms. The walls dissolved into a cathedral of sinew—Garrison’s sinew, Eella’s sinew, interlaced with the Choir’s living code. Images flickered: Darcie’s first scream, Eella’s first sacrifice, Garrison’s first oath broken. Each betrayal etched in living flesh.
“We are one,” Lazarus intoned. “A Covenant of pain and power. You cannot escape what you become.”
Garrison stood, raw defiance blazing. “I refuse.”
Lazarus’s eyes sharpened. “And so the Covenant punishes the unfaithful.”
Chains retracted and reformed, binding Garrison’s wrists to the wall. Astrid watched, silent hunger in her eyes.
Eella’s mind raced. She was not his slave. Not his weapon. She was herself. She had to break the Covenant from within.
“You can’t bind us both,” she spat.
Lazarus’s laughter echoed. “I can bind your souls.”
The cathedral walls pulsed. Choir voices rose. Each note a nail in the coffin of her defiance.
Eella forced her legs up, yanked her chains loose, metal shrieking. Garrison gasped as a shard cut his palm. She shook the cuff free from her ankle then pried his wrist loose.
Astrid lunged. Eella caught her by the throat. The older woman’s breath hissed. “You can’t kill family.”
Eella slammed Astrid against the wall. “Family betrayed me.”
Astrid’s eyes flickered—something close to fear. Then hunger. She shoved Eella off. Chains rewrapped around Eella’s wrists. She fell.
Garrison roared, tearing at his binding. Lazarus advanced, shadows lengthening.
Eella rose, shaking. This was it—the final line. She reached deep, past pain, past fear, to the ember in her chest.
“You won’t win,” she said, voice low but unyielding.
Astrid laughed. “…You will submit.”
The Choir’s chant swelled. The cathedral of flesh and code throbbed.
Eella’s vision cleared. She saw Garrison—knee-deep in chains, bleeding, the man she loved more than life.
She remembered the note Garrison once gave her: Freedom is forged in steel and fire.
She bit her lip. The ember flared. She raised her voice above the Choir, above the Covenant, above the darkness.
“CHOIR—SHATTER!”
A burst of sound, pure and electric, ripped from her lungs. The cathedral walls trembled. The Choir fell silent. Chains cracked. Flesh code unraveled.
Lazarus reeled. Astrid shrieked. Garrison’s chains shattered, and he slumped to his knees, gasping.
Eella stumbled forward. The cathedral dissolved—into the staid Obedience Room, cracked floors and broken lights.
She rose to her feet.
Lazarus lay on the ground, shadow-skin peeling. “Impossible,” he hissed.
Eella held out a hand. Garrison took it, helping her rise.
She turned to Lazarus. “It’s over.”
He laughed—hollow, fading. “The Covenant never dies.”
She walked over and pressed the blade to his chest. Her voice was calm. “It ends here.”
She drove the steel home.
Lazarus’s scream was the last Choir song.
Silence reclaimed the room.
Garrison dropped beside her, arms shaking. “Are you—”
She pressed a hand to his cheek. “I’m free.”
Astrid lay broken. The Choir cells were empty.
Chains lay shattered.
Eella breathed. The ember inside her glowed steady.
Volume Two ends here.
Volume Three awaits—where Eella must decide if she rebuilds a throne or burns everything down.
She tried to shift. The chains rattled. A groan hummed from her throat, half-anger, half-anguish. Something wet dripped onto her hair. She looked up. A lone bulb swung overhead, swaying in a circle of shadows. Beneath it, a dark pool slowly spread across the floor—her blood? Someone else’s? She couldn’t tell anymore.
Her head spun. Through the haze she heard it: a distant hum, like voices echoing through a canyon. Choir voices? No. A chant. A promise. Her name whispered in unison: Eella… Eella…
She clenched her teeth. Would this ever end?
A click. The door creaked open. Light spilled through, carving her world into half-lit ruins. She squinted. Garrison stood there—shirtless, bruised, eyes rimmed with red, face etched in horror and fierce love. Behind him, the Obedience Room corridor was empty. The Choir had vanished, leaving only silence and the buzz of failing lights.
“Eella,” he rasped. His voice cracked like ice underfoot. He crossed to her, each step heavy with guilt. “I—I couldn’t save you.”
She spat blood. “You let me come.” Her voice was steel and sorrow. “You promised you’d never let me face him alone.”
He knelt before her, fingers fumbling at the cuff. “I was punished. Written out. They erased my access, my strength—everything but their fear.”
She met his gaze. “Then earn me back.”
He pressed his forehead to her knees. “I will.”
Behind him, the flickering bulb revealed Astrid—corseted in shadow, lips curled in a void’s smile. “Punishment has a price,” she breathed. “And your debt is due.”
Garrison’s hand twitched. “Astrid—”
She laughed. “Stand down, lover. This is family business now.”
Eella’s chains dropped into silence as a door slid open on hinges sharpened by betrayal. Lazarus emerged—no longer flesh and bone, but a network of shadow and wire. His eyes glowed with the Choir’s echo. On his chest, a beating wound still bled pulsing data into the floor.
“Welcome, children,” he whispered. “To the heart of the Covenant.”
Astrid stepped forward. “You are both late.”
Lazarus’s grin split the dark. “Miracles take time.”
Eella swallowed her fear. “What is this?”
He swept his arms. The walls dissolved into a cathedral of sinew—Garrison’s sinew, Eella’s sinew, interlaced with the Choir’s living code. Images flickered: Darcie’s first scream, Eella’s first sacrifice, Garrison’s first oath broken. Each betrayal etched in living flesh.
“We are one,” Lazarus intoned. “A Covenant of pain and power. You cannot escape what you become.”
Garrison stood, raw defiance blazing. “I refuse.”
Lazarus’s eyes sharpened. “And so the Covenant punishes the unfaithful.”
Chains retracted and reformed, binding Garrison’s wrists to the wall. Astrid watched, silent hunger in her eyes.
Eella’s mind raced. She was not his slave. Not his weapon. She was herself. She had to break the Covenant from within.
“You can’t bind us both,” she spat.
Lazarus’s laughter echoed. “I can bind your souls.”
The cathedral walls pulsed. Choir voices rose. Each note a nail in the coffin of her defiance.
Eella forced her legs up, yanked her chains loose, metal shrieking. Garrison gasped as a shard cut his palm. She shook the cuff free from her ankle then pried his wrist loose.
Astrid lunged. Eella caught her by the throat. The older woman’s breath hissed. “You can’t kill family.”
Eella slammed Astrid against the wall. “Family betrayed me.”
Astrid’s eyes flickered—something close to fear. Then hunger. She shoved Eella off. Chains rewrapped around Eella’s wrists. She fell.
Garrison roared, tearing at his binding. Lazarus advanced, shadows lengthening.
Eella rose, shaking. This was it—the final line. She reached deep, past pain, past fear, to the ember in her chest.
“You won’t win,” she said, voice low but unyielding.
Astrid laughed. “…You will submit.”
The Choir’s chant swelled. The cathedral of flesh and code throbbed.
Eella’s vision cleared. She saw Garrison—knee-deep in chains, bleeding, the man she loved more than life.
She remembered the note Garrison once gave her: Freedom is forged in steel and fire.
She bit her lip. The ember flared. She raised her voice above the Choir, above the Covenant, above the darkness.
“CHOIR—SHATTER!”
A burst of sound, pure and electric, ripped from her lungs. The cathedral walls trembled. The Choir fell silent. Chains cracked. Flesh code unraveled.
Lazarus reeled. Astrid shrieked. Garrison’s chains shattered, and he slumped to his knees, gasping.
Eella stumbled forward. The cathedral dissolved—into the staid Obedience Room, cracked floors and broken lights.
She rose to her feet.
Lazarus lay on the ground, shadow-skin peeling. “Impossible,” he hissed.
Eella held out a hand. Garrison took it, helping her rise.
She turned to Lazarus. “It’s over.”
He laughed—hollow, fading. “The Covenant never dies.”
She walked over and pressed the blade to his chest. Her voice was calm. “It ends here.”
She drove the steel home.
Lazarus’s scream was the last Choir song.
Silence reclaimed the room.
Garrison dropped beside her, arms shaking. “Are you—”
She pressed a hand to his cheek. “I’m free.”
Astrid lay broken. The Choir cells were empty.
Chains lay shattered.
Eella breathed. The ember inside her glowed steady.
Volume Two ends here.
Volume Three awaits—where Eella must decide if she rebuilds a throne or burns everything down.
End of His Private Hell Chapter 114. Continue reading Chapter 115 or return to His Private Hell book page.