Trapped In Elysium: A Virtual Reality Nightmare-Chapter 139: Poor Eleanor

Liam’s grip was like iron as he clutched the hag by the neck, fingers digging into the folds of her sagging flesh. The moment she tried to grin again, he slammed her hard against the wall, the bones in her back cracking audibly as stone met brittle spine. Dust rained down from above. The others flinched at the sudden violence, but none said a word.

Liam’s voice was low, trembling—not with fear, but fury.

"If you don’t release her..." he growled, eyes burning with fire that hadn’t come from any skill, "I’ll slit your damn throat open right here. And if you vanish into spirit form again... I swear, I’ll burn every last wisp of you until there’s nothing left to crawl back from."

The old hag winced. Her red eyes flickered dimmer for a moment. She tried to speak, but Liam pressed harder, forcing her head back against the stone with enough strength to make her bones shudder.

She looked into his eyes then—and saw it. Not empty threats. Not anger alone.

Conviction.

A man willing to drag her into hell with him if she dared call his bluff.

With a gurgle of pain, her voice wheezed out between Liam’s fingers.

"Fine..."

Liam didn’t loosen his grip, but nodded once.

Marcus shifted, adjusting Mariel’s weight in his arms. She was still unconscious, her head resting against his shoulder. Jason knelt beside Borik, easing him up with a grunt as the big man groaned weakly, the pain making his lips twitch but no words came.

Von, still battered and limping, had Sophia over his shoulder like a wounded soldier in retreat. His free hand gripped a broken spear he’d taken from a wall mount earlier, just in case.

Liam finally yanked the old hag from the wall and spun her around, locking his hand on the back of her neck like a leash. She was shaking, but not from fear. Fatigue. Her power was dwindling fast—her spirit form was gone, and her bones couldn’t carry her far.

But still... she moved.

She led them through a narrow corridor carved from black stone, past a heavy archway that looked like it had been sealed for decades. Her cracked voice mumbled words none of them could understand, and the stones rumbled and shifted to let them pass.

Liam walked behind her with a lit torch in one hand, the tip of the blade now dull and slung at his waist. He had deactivated the blazing sword just before it faded on its own, knowing the fire had served its purpose—for now. The torch was enough. Enough to keep her from trying anything stupid.

Fifteen minutes.

That’s how long they walked in silence, each step echoing through the maze of ancient halls. The air was cold again, and heavy with a metallic stench that grew stronger the deeper they went. Not just blood.

Death.

When they reached the chamber, no one spoke.

It was circular. Ancient. Carved with symbols the group had never seen—symbols that pulsed faintly in the walls like veins under skin.

In the center, she hung.

Eleanor.

Suspended in midair by something none of them could see, her limbs held apart and bound by nothing—yet punctured by sharp, rusted stakes that hung in the empty air as if nailed to invisible walls. Her arms were stretched, wrists bleeding. Her legs sagged from the force of the spikes that impaled them through the ankles.

Her body trembled, barely. Her head lolled to the side, blood caked around her mouth and eyes.

Jason dropped Borik the moment he saw her.

Marcus almost dropped Mariel.

Von froze, lips parting in shock.

Even the torch in Liam’s hand shook slightly.

Eleanor—composed, sharp-eyed Eleanor—was dying.

She didn’t speak. Couldn’t. Her eyes fluttered open for the briefest second as they approached, but they looked empty, as though she didn’t even recognize them.

Liam’s grip on the hag tightened again before anyone else could speak. He slammed her once more against the wall with a roar of rage, the torchlight casting their shadows like monsters across the chamber.

"What did you DO to her!?" he thundered.

The hag coughed. A tooth dropped from her mouth as she grinned.

"She’s... a vessel, boy. A failsafe."

Liam growled through clenched teeth and lifted the torch, ready to burn her right then and there—but she hissed through her cracked lips, "Kill me, and she dies before you touch her."

Liam froze.

"She’s tethered," the hag croaked, breath rattling in her throat. "To magic only I can release. No one else. And any spellbreaker will shred her soul before it touches the bindings. You want her alive... I stay alive." 𝓯𝓻𝒆𝙚𝒘𝓮𝙗𝓷𝒐𝓿𝙚𝒍.𝙘𝓸𝙢

"Liam," Von muttered, stepping forward. "We can’t risk it. She’s... telling the truth. I can feel the magic. Old. Raw. Twisted."

Marcus moved forward instead. "Then we remove her. Carefully. The longer she stays like that—"

He never got to finish.

The moment he reached for Eleanor, something invisible struck him in the chest.

WHAM!

Marcus flew back like a ragdoll, hitting the stone wall with a sickening crack before dropping to the floor. Mariel tumbled from his arms, landing beside him with a cry.

"Marcus!" Jason cried, reaching forward—

And he too was hit.

The blast threw him across the chamber, crashing into a pillar. He hit the floor coughing violently, blood spilling from his mouth, eyes wide in disbelief.

"Wha... what was that..."

Von cursed under his breath and knelt beside Jason.

The hag laughed softly, throat dry and cracking.

"She is sealed with every drop of my power. Touch her, and the wards will strike."

Jason groaned, coughing blood again. "Liam... don’t..."

Liam’s gaze was burning. His chest rose and fell with each furious breath. He looked at Eleanor—suspended, bleeding, fading—and then back at the hag.

He stepped forward, the torchlight dancing in his eyes.

And he spoke, quiet and cold

The hag only grinned again.

But Liam didn’t flinch.

Not anymore.

Liam didn’t let go of her neck.

He shoved her harder into the wall, the back of her skull thudding against stone, her thin legs trembling beneath her.

"I said undo the magic," he snarled.

But the hag only blinked slowly, lips parting not in defiance—but in sorrow.

"I wasn’t always like this..." she whispered, voice brittle and ancient. "I had a name once. A face that didn’t crack. I was one of his wives... one of the many queens who slept in golden chambers and dined on fruits. I loved him."

Liam’s jaw clenched. "Not interested."

Jason, still groaning, wiped the blood from his lips. "Liam, wait—"

But Liam didn’t wait. He pulled the hag slightly off the ground by the scruff of her neck, her heels dragging against the stone. "Spare us the pity tale. Reverse the spell. Now."

The hag winced but didn’t fight. Her eyes darted to Eleanor’s lifeless form. She exhaled, slow, a breath that sounded like it had been buried for centuries.

"I know you don’t want to listen," she rasped. "None of you do. But you should... because everything you’ve seen... everything this palace has become... began the day I was thrown aside."

Liam’s brow furrowed. His grip didn’t ease, but he paused.

Von, standing over a still-groaning Jason, met Liam’s eyes. "Let her speak."

Marcus sat up slowly, blood on his lips, holding his ribs.

Borik lay unconscious, chest barely rising.

Sophia stirred once on Von’s shoulder, a soft groan escaping her cracked lips.

Liam finally lowered the torch slightly, the flames still dancing.

"Talk," he said. "But make it quick."

The old hag licked her dry lips.

And then... she began.