Page 44 of The Devil of Hollywood

“Sir, please. Sir.”

My voice was stronger than I felt. It had the man’s eyes lifting from a clipboard, but he didn’t speak as squeaking sounded. A large device was wheeled inside, and I felt my blood go cold as I took it in. It reminded me of a… person—of the childhood game, hangman. The metal neck had a noose dangling from it, and there was a backing that branched off to flat areas for arms and legs. Thick leather cuffs were attached to the ends of each one and I could feel myself pushing back into the guards who held me.

“Sir,” I repeated. “Reeve? Is that you? Are you The Reeve?”

“I am.”

“I would like to have my meeting with The Unavowed. He’s expecting me.”

“He is not.”

My lips parted as he continued to stare down. “I heard him, myself.”

“Then he changed his mind. I have access to his appointments. You don’t have one.”

More squeaking sounded as the guards pulled me back and led the contraption to the center of the room.

“May I request one?”

“You may not.”

A strangled sound came from me as the guards’ hands on my arms dug in.

“What is that thing?”

The Reeve didn’t answer. He finished writing something on the paper, lifting his head as he straightened. “Severance.”

My eyes darted to the large frame. “Clarify. What do you mean?”

“This is the final measure. Once you finish, you will be ready for auction if that is your path.”

“It’s not.” Even as I said it, my head shook. “Why severance? Why give me that answer when I asked what this thing is?”

A few seconds passed, and I could see some sort of emotion flicker, but it died just as fast.

“Perhaps you haven’t realized yet who you are. What… you are. That’s okay. Some don’t. Severance,” he said, gesturing, “will show you.”

I was pulled forward, but I threw my weight back, pushing from my tiptoes.

“Wait! What do you mean? What are you going to do?”

He didn’t answer. I was quickly let go and my dress was pulled up over my head before I could even process pressure disappearing from my arms. They latched back on, and I was drug forward, lifted and pushed against the straight back.

“Please! I’m not going to be auctioned. I can’t be⁠—”

I started thrashing again, using all of my strength as multiple guards stepped forward, locking my hands and feet into the leather cuffs. The more I fought, the harder they held on. My screams were a mix of pain and madness.

“M-Money! I-I have money. Please!”

Laughter. They didn’t seem to care for my bribery as the noose was settled around my throat and tightened. The moment it was snug, the rope was jerked up. My head tilted back at the force, and my neck craned through the choking pull. I was trapped. Creaking groaned louder, and my eyes flew open wide as the section that held my arms and legs were extended even more. I could barely find enough air to speak through the shock. Every part of me was being stretched to the max. I had no control over the burning and tearing of my muscles as they wiggled the placement out even more.

“Enough, it hurts! Stop!”

“Left arm.”

A guard stepped forward with a measuring tape, first calculating the segment from my wrist to elbow.

“Twenty-point-five centimeters.”