The Abandoned Luna's Journey to Power Chapter 99: Getting Back At Them

Evelyn's POV:

There were screams.

Broken, horrifying screams echoed through the small, dark cabin.

I was dragged to the very front and forced onto my knees.

Two burly vampire suicide fighters held my shoulders down. Another fighter jammed toothpicks under my eyelids, prying them open so I had no choice but to watch. Even blinking away the horror wasn't allowed.

That was hell.

Real hell. The deepest kind.

The vampire torturers didn't bother with fancy devices. With cold precision, they simply copied everything I had done back in Evernight Gorge.

"Ah! Kill me! Just kill me!"

The first soldier was strapped to a cross.

The executioner raised a glowing red iron clamp and slowly crushed his finger bones, bit by bit.

"You did this to Eric's fingers before, didn't you?" Ivan lounged nearby, swirling a glass of red wine, his tone calm. "They say each finger is tied to the heart. The pain is worse than dying."

Crack! Bone snapped cleanly.

Then came castration.

"No! I haven't had children yet! Please stop! I was forced! General Rusell ordered it!"

The youngest soldier wailed in despair, struggling violently.

The executioner didn't react. The blade flashed and dropped.

Blood sprayed everywhere. The severed flesh was tossed into a burning brazier, where it sizzled like meat on a grill, filling the air with a sickening stench.

"Ah—"

The soldier passed out from the pain, only to be splashed with cold water and dragged back into consciousness.

Next came the urine.

A group of filthy hyena soldiers shuffled in, their bodies covered in sores.

They sneered, pulled down their pants, and urinated over the open, bleeding wounds.

Salt, waste, and their toxic fluids burned into the flesh.

Even the toughest men collapsed, writhing on the ground like worms.

"You guys humiliated Eric the same way," Ivan said softly. "You called him weak and forced filth down his throat. So, how does it feel now?"

I shook uncontrollably. My stomach churned violently, bile rising to my throat.

That scene used to entertain me.

I once sat tall on my horse, smiling at James. "See? This is conquest. You break their bodies and crush their pride, and they'll fear you forever."

Back then, I felt like a ruler. Like a queen.

But now, it was my people screaming. When warm, foul-smelling blood splattered onto my face, and hopeless cries tore through my ears, I finally understood fear.

It turned out the screams of the defeated weren't pleasing at all.

That pain was real.

They died one after another or suffered fates worse than death.

Some had their tongues cut out; some lost their eyes; some were skinned alive.

All 19 of them were treated like livestock, slaughtered and tortured right before me.

Blood spread across the floor, pooling into a shallow stream that reached my knees.

In the end, only I remained.

The noise faded, leaving nothing but my broken breathing and the thud of my heart.

Ivan slowly stood up, wiping blood from his hands.

He picked up a slim black wooden case and walked toward me.

Inside was a full set of silver torture tools made just for werewolves—needles, knives, hooks, all gleaming with a deadly shine.

He wore a smile that was more terrifying than any ghost.

"Your turn, General."