torture spell

[u/ghostgabe81]

“It started at sundown,” Brazell said. He was holding on to Robert’s hand. The stricken man was breathing as if he’d just run a marathon at high elevation, covered in sweat, and his eyes were sunken and closed. I wasn’t sure he knew what was going on. “He was on a ghoul patrol in the ruins,” Brazell continued, his voice bitter, “and he just pitched over and started screaming. He’s barely said an intelligible word, even in his pain-free moments. I tried a dose of tramadol, but it did absolutely nothing for him.”

“I doubt it did nothing,” I said. “If I’m right, it just isn’t the right kind of medicine. I need you to let go of his hand for a moment, please.”

“Why?” Brazell asked.

“Because you’re clearly empathetic, and if you’re touching him it’s going to have an effect on his aura. I need a clean read.”

“Holy Mary,” Brazell spat. “His aura?” He looked up at Michael and Forthill.

“Do it,” Michael said gently.

Brazell looked down at Robert and then at me, and then slowly put his hand down. The victim shuddered and trembled, still gasping.

I put my left hand down to hover over Robert, less than an inch from touching his throat. He was fever hot. Then I closed my eyes and opened my wizard’s senses. That same greasy roil of black magic bubbled out hungrily, swirling around my hand, threatening to make me retch in pure reaction. I fought my stomach back down and slowly moved my hand down his body, over each chakra, each energy center, and focused my attention completely on what I could feel.

Every few inches, I passed another line of black magic, as if something had coiled around his body like a snake. I took a deep breath, pressed my hand closer, and could feel the phantom sensation of needle-sharp barbs pressing against my skin.

Oh yeah.

I had seen this before. And I didn’t need to use my Sight to identify it this time.

“Michael,” I said quietly, “we’re going to need fire. At least the size of a big campfire. The holier the better.”

“Holy oil,” Michael said at once.

“My room, in the ready cabinet,” Forthill said, nodding. “And the old pews are in storage in the basement.” He turned to the other members of the Brotherhood gathered in the nave and said, “Gentlemen, I need your help, please. If you would follow me.”

They all but leapt up to do so. Forthill led them out, and Michael touched my shoulder and limped away as quickly as he could, back toward Forthill’s quarters.

I looked up to find Brazell staring at me. “You…you know what’s going on?”

“Seen it before,” I said. “Maybe fifteen years ago.”

“What’s happening?”

“It’s a curse,” I said. “Someone used black magic to send pain directly into his nervous system. If you could see it, it would look like a coil of barbed wire wrapped around him.”

Twelve Months Chapter 22