Chapter 4
Unknown
12•18•8993. 18:00.
My throat feels dry and stiff from yelling. My back, chest, arms, and legs sting from the rope burns. My eyes water from lack of sleep and my knuckles are bruised.
I'm sitting in the corner of a dark room. I can tell from the echoes of my heavy breathing that it's fairly large and most likely made of concrete. The room is humid and the stone is damp. It smells metallic. A small bit of light seeps through the cracks in a door opposite me, making a slight glimmer on the cold stone.
Suddenly, a shadow passes by the door and collapses against the frame. The person's breathing is ragged and shallow and they seem to be clawing into the stone with their nails. They don't appear to know that I'm here. They grunt through their clenched teeth.
"Help me," she gasps.
I'm all of sudden aware of my body being thrown forward by its own accord. My muscles strain against my restraints as my subconscious mind forces me towards the door, wanting to protect her. Then I realize why.
That's Arcadia.
All of a sudden, I hear a clear, high voice to the right of me, across the room, and feel every hair on my neck stand when she taunts, "Just kidding!"
Confused, and livid, I quickly scan the room, but see no one. I see the person from behind the door fade away in my peripheral vision along with her screams and gasps of anguish.
I look to my right and see a thin figure half hidden in shadows. Her pale skin glows a faint yellow from the light behind the door.
She steps into the faint light.
"Did you like my-" she waves her hands as if casting a spell, "illusion?"
I grind my teeth and gasp out, "You absolute-"
She clicks her tongue, cutting me off. "No, no, I can't have you acting like this." She saunters toward me with her dainty hands folded behind her and I finally see her piercing green eyes. She flops to the ground in front of me, like an annoyed child, and stares at me.
"I bet you're wondering why you're here," she murmurs as she bites a nail.
I stay silent and wish I wasn't in this cell. If I was out of here, I'd burn her with my bare hands for even looking at Arcadia.
She sighs in annoyance and rolls her eyes.
"You see," murmurs Jane, "if I take what's important to her, it kills her more than death itself." Jane leans forward, arms folded and resting on her knees. "So," she threatened, "tell me what you know about Arcadia and the rebellion, Magnuson."
12•18•8993. 18:00.
My throat feels dry and stiff from yelling. My back, chest, arms, and legs sting from the rope burns. My eyes water from lack of sleep and my knuckles are bruised.
I'm sitting in the corner of a dark room. I can tell from the echoes of my heavy breathing that it's fairly large and most likely made of concrete. The room is humid and the stone is damp. It smells metallic. A small bit of light seeps through the cracks in a door opposite me, making a slight glimmer on the cold stone.
Suddenly, a shadow passes by the door and collapses against the frame. The person's breathing is ragged and shallow and they seem to be clawing into the stone with their nails. They don't appear to know that I'm here. They grunt through their clenched teeth.
"Help me," she gasps.
I'm all of sudden aware of my body being thrown forward by its own accord. My muscles strain against my restraints as my subconscious mind forces me towards the door, wanting to protect her. Then I realize why.
That's Arcadia.
All of a sudden, I hear a clear, high voice to the right of me, across the room, and feel every hair on my neck stand when she taunts, "Just kidding!"
Confused, and livid, I quickly scan the room, but see no one. I see the person from behind the door fade away in my peripheral vision along with her screams and gasps of anguish.
I look to my right and see a thin figure half hidden in shadows. Her pale skin glows a faint yellow from the light behind the door.
She steps into the faint light.
"Did you like my-" she waves her hands as if casting a spell, "illusion?"
I grind my teeth and gasp out, "You absolute-"
She clicks her tongue, cutting me off. "No, no, I can't have you acting like this." She saunters toward me with her dainty hands folded behind her and I finally see her piercing green eyes. She flops to the ground in front of me, like an annoyed child, and stares at me.
"I bet you're wondering why you're here," she murmurs as she bites a nail.
I stay silent and wish I wasn't in this cell. If I was out of here, I'd burn her with my bare hands for even looking at Arcadia.
She sighs in annoyance and rolls her eyes.
"You see," murmurs Jane, "if I take what's important to her, it kills her more than death itself." Jane leans forward, arms folded and resting on her knees. "So," she threatened, "tell me what you know about Arcadia and the rebellion, Magnuson."
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