Their eyes were the same damn colour.
All of them.
Four men. Four wishes and wills—but one pair of identical eyes.
Evil eyes.
Horrendous eyes.
Eyes I never wanted to see again.
Daniel asked, “Have you given up your power, you wicked witch? Are you cured of the infection of magic?”
Jethro shoved him, cursing him beneath his breath.
Then, I fell again.
The men released their hold, shooing me from dryness and gifting me to a wet crypt.
As the water crashed over my head the third time, I gave up.
There was no point in fighting.
I was done.
I lost all track of time.
Up, down, up, down. Wet to dry and back again.
Every ducking I grew weaker...faded faster.
How many times did they raise me, only to drop me a few moments later? I believed Jethro when they said some torture sessions went on all day.
It felt as if this lasted forever.
I couldn’t move. I had no energy remaining.
Underwater again, my heartbeat raced until it splintered my ribs, cleaving me open, letting water pour down my throat and slosh into my lungs.
Delusions were no longer something to fear, but to beembraced.Delusions brought fantasies to life, soothing me, eradicating monsters from my world.
Down here, unicorns existed. Up there, only beasts.
I opened my mouth wider, slack-jawed and spaced.
Perhaps I had a gift I didn’t know of.
Perhaps I was a mermaid and could breathe water better than air.
Perhaps I could transform and swim far, far away from here.
I would try.
Anything was better than this.
The icy ache in my chest as the water filled me like a balloon was foreign and frightening.
But then it grew warmer.
