As it turns out, Gabriel’s mouth is the only part of his body that’s capable of running right now because by the time the guards come by the cage room to collect him, he’s in no shape physically to do much other than get dragged across the floor like a wriggling, bilingually swearing sack of potatoes. The hood that’s been unceremoniously yanked down over his brunette head only serves to disorient him further, which Gabriel suspects is by design — as if he didn’t just get his sense of sight back after spending an entire week in almost total sensory deprivation.
On top of everything else, Gabriel is also afraid — afraid of what Nathaniel is going to do to him even if his ego (which could probably power a small city for a couple of months) won’t allow him to admit it. Even more so because for the first time in his life, his brothers aren’t here to back him up like they had been against his Father and the occasional schoolyard bully while the three of them were growing up. Orientation had been a nightmare in its own right, so Gabriel doesn’t even want to think about what a place he’s only heard referred to as the breaking chambers might entail.
Their arrival is far too quick for Gabriel’s liking and the guards shove him onto his knees where he just narrowly avoids tipping over and landing flat on top of his pretty face — his arms are bound and he can’t catch himself if his life depends on it, after all — much to the guards’ amusement and Gabriel’s chagrin. After some obligatory name-calling, the guards take their leave and Gabriel is by himself with only his growing fear and racing thoughts to keep him company.
Minutes that feel like hours pass before he hears the door creak open behind him. Gabriel’s chest tightens and his heart feels like it’s doing a full-blown gymnastics routine in there. He can’t see him just yet because of the hood, but he’s got a pretty good idea that it is indeed Nathaniel who’s in the room with him. Gabriel takes a deep breath and exhales it shakily. “Je suis désolé, d'accord? I was out of line earlier and I shouldn’t have said… that to you.” Even though it was true. ( @masternathanieldalton )
Nathaniel Dalton was not a man that suffered fools, and if one chose to cross his path he had no problem taking care of it. This was the lifestyle that he was born into, growing up with his own slave and knowing that he would always be in a seat of power. The Daltons were rich, and they never left the estate so there was never anyone around to stop them. As a vampire, Nathaniel already felt superior before he even met the slave, even without the titles of Master and slave, because he was a vampire and the mortal man was a human. So to say that he walked into the breaking chambers like a tyrant that knew that he fully and wholly ruled his kingdom was an understatement. As Gabriel spoke, the man did not pause and didn’t even appear to hear what was being said to him as he went about his business as if he were the only one in the room.
Once he had lined his toys up in exactly the way that he wanted and prepared each instrument that he planned to use, then he turned to look at the slave where he was, hung up with his hands behind his back, pulled upwards and forcing him to bend forward at the waist a bit or suffer pain from the positioning. “You, my little moron, seem to have already known what you were doing when you did it. You knew what it would earn you, and you did it anyway. You thought that perhaps, you were smarter than I am, and if you could pull one over on me, the risk of danger would be well worth it.” Each word was calm and carefully enunciated. Once he finished, a slave walked in with a guard accompanying him, handing over a clear jar with white liquid in it. He pointed and the jar was set down on the table with his toys, but he said nothing about it as he got closer to Gabriel, finally deigning to look him in the eye. “I’m here to inform you that you were dead wrong.”
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