Kate
I’m clamped to a metal chair when I wake. My mouth is gagged with itchy twine so tightly I can’t move my head. I gag. My stomach heaves as frays from the ropes tickle the back of my throat. I’ll choke on my own vomit if I can’t control my gag reflex. I push my tongue against the rough cords but nothing gives. Gasping, eyes stinging and burning, I strain to breathe, retching thick hot saliva up from my esophagus.
I try to breathe through my nose, but there just isn’t enough air. My lungs start burning and I sob, biting down onto the binds.
“Easy, female,” a deep rumble warns from somewhere close behind me. I strain to move my eyes, which if it’s even possible, seems to tighten the gag around me. Instantly, I’m panicking and hyperventilating until big black spots are bursting in my eyes.
Then with a soft snip, the binds fall away and I’m gulping back deep breaths of air. After taking my fill of oxygen, I whirl my head around, attempting to find the person who hides behind the chair.
Shadows creep up along smooth black walls, so black it’s hard to see where the shadows end and wall begins. The room turns deathly silent; only the sounds of my shallow breaths reach my ears. I strain to hear past it, even hold my breath, which just makes me panicky remembering the gag. “Who’s there?” I ask, voice hoarse and dry. I sound scared, but for the first time I’m not. I’m suddenly, actually not afraid.
I’m fucking pissed off.
I’m tired of this shit.
I’m tired of being scared.
I’m tired of not knowing anything.
A cold wind blows through my hair. Strands of it wisp softly along my cheek, sending shivers down my spine.
Cold, steel fingers wrap around the back of my neck and I instantly freeze.
“Fascinating,” thethingbehind me hisses. “The way the color drains from your skin.” The grating voice crawls long my arms, making the small hairs stand on end, and goose bumps follow after. The icy grip tightens and holds my head forcefully in place. I can’t see him, just a hazy glimmer of steel in the corner of my eye, and the intense pressure on the base of my skull. I breathe deeply, willing my body to remain calm. I decide to stare ahead blankly.
A sharply angled, metallic mask creeps slowly into my sight. It’s covered in intricate patterns of gold scales and serpentine features. It growls with a deep rumbling sound; half machinery, half animal. A creation forged from nightmares. “If you do not know already, I am General Pious.”
With a sudden loud clang, the metal shackles holding my wrists and ankles spring open. The hand wrapped around the back of my neck lifts painfully and my body has no other recourse than to follow the motion. My toes barely touch down on the floor, but I stretch them as far as I can, desperately trying to alleviate the pressure of being held from my neck and dragged into another room. My fingers automatically claw at the hand squeezing my skin, but I can’t find purchase. I can’t scratch through the smooth thick metal.
He chuckles and lowers his arm. My feet scrabble at the floor and slip. I struggle to gain my stability but it’s no use; my legs give out as he tugs me through a doorway and tosses me onto the floor. The cold metal of the floor is uncompromising as my body slams down. Every inch of me screams with pain.
The glacial metal of the floor rakes shivers across my shoulders and through my core. My legs and arms are bare.My torso.My stomach. The arctic chill surges through my veins and I cry out in humiliation.I’m completely naked.
My head throbs in agony as I pull myself up on my hands to lean on my palms, catching my breath. I blink up at my captor, anger boiling just under the surface of my chest.
Pious leers at me—his features though robotic in nature—express something cruel and dark. He paces in front of me, body posturing and coiling for a fight.
“What do you want from me?” I spit.
He stills. Deep-set black eye holes angle down toward me.
I watch as his fingers slowly close into fists.
Behind me there’s a spark then a buzz, and the room lights up with bright lights from an unknown source. It’s as if the walls themselves are glowing and lighting the room. I wince loudly as I swing my head around, but the sound dies on my lips.
There, behind a filthy glass panel, is Rune.
I scramble to my feet and rush up to the window.
His palms are pressing against the other side of the glass, and his eyes are locked on mine. He doesn’t notice my lack of clothing, or if he does, he doesn’t let me know, and I almost love him for it. “Pious,” he yells, his voice muted to a low roar. “Don’t do this!”
“It’s already done,” Pious chuckles, slithering up next to me.
Rune still doesn’t take his eyes off mine. They look feverish and pained.
I press my palms against the glass, the same place he has his, and warmth floods my chest. I need to talk to him.I know he saved my sister. I know it. He had to.
“Where’s Claire?” I shout. “Did you—” I bite back the words when Pious yanks my hair back in a fist. My scalp burns where he’s tugging, ripping the strands away. Tears fill my eyes.
