He gargles as more blood cascades from his mouth, his breathing becoming laboured; that familiar rattling of death as it slowly takes him.
“War is coming. A war you will not win. Your kind will perish. It will be the end of your very existence,” he wheezes as he draws his final breath, and death devours him.
CHAPTER EIGHT
EVELYNN
Am I being punked?Or am I trapped in a nightmare? None of this can be real. It just can’t be. I watch as the president drops the dead guy’s body to the ground, discarding him like yesterday’s trash. Blood coats his arm, and splatters of it cover his face and neck. The men—his brothers?—move around him as he stands perfectly still and unmoving, his body rigid. Some of them head toward the house while another grabs the dead guy’s foot and drags him away.
I’m afraid to blink, afraid to breathe. One of them approaches the weird markings on the ground and pours some kind of liquid over them. I continue to watch, unable to look away, my body frozen to thespot. I should run while they’re all distracted. Now would be the perfect chance to make a break for it. But deep down, fear is keeping me here. Something inside me knows I wouldn’t make it far.
Their president lights a cigarette, staring intently at the symbol on the ground, his jaw locked tight. Another member approaches him, talking to him, his expression murderous. He takes one long pull on his cigarette before flicking it to the ground before him. It lands in the centre of the symbol and, in an instant, huge flames ignite.
My mouth drops open as the roaring, rich orange flames turn to black. I blink, my eyes not believing what I’m witnessing.It’s okay. It must just be that powder dye stuff you can chuck on flames. That’s all it is.
My thoughts cease immediately as a sound explodes around us. From the flames? Of course, that’s ridiculous. It’s impossible. I dare to look around, searching for the source of the sounds. Horrific cries and screams of people surround me. Women, children, crying, pleading. Like they’re talking directly to me.
I cover my ears and close my eyes, desperately trying to escape the nightmarish sound. I step back, but as I do, the back of my heel hits a log. My eyes fling open, my hands reaching out as I feel myself tumbling back.
“Shit,” I cry out, squeezing my eyes shut and bracing for the thud and sharp pain of landing hard on my ass. But it doesn’t come. Instead, the guy—the president with the amber eyes—is standing over me, his fist gripping hold of my top, suspending me midair. His eyes glare down at me, almost lighting up in the darkness.
In a swift movement, he yanks me to my feet. I wobble slightly, but he doesn’t let go of my top until I’m steady. He stands before me, blocking the view of the black fire behind him. His gaze is intense, with strands of his dark hair hanging over his eyes. He lifts a blood-covered hand. I flinch. He pauses for a moment before gently pulling the blindfold back down to cover my eyes.
“Please,” I plead in a whisper as the blindfold plunges my vision into darkness. The sounds of the screaming, pleading voices still ring out around us. My body begins to tremble. I was scared before, but now… now I’m terrified, and I can’t even say what of. Scared of them, scared of the weird black flames, scared of the screams. Ultimately, I am petrified of this unknown world.
“Take her,” his deep voice orders.
Hands grab me from behind. Before I can even attempt to resist, I’m being hoisted off my feet.
“No! Please!” I cry out in panic as I’m flung over someone’s shoulder, dangling upside down. No one says a word. The screams grow quieter as they carry me away. Soon, the only noise I can hear is the whooshing air, rustling grass, and my thunderous heart.
Fear pumps through my veins. What if I’ve seen too much? What if this is it? I’m being taken to my execution. I am of no use to them now. They thought I was part of the Crawley brothers, and now they’ve been dealt with. I am of no use to them. This has got to be it. I am to be disposed of.
As those impending thoughts swarm my mind, the only solace I take is that those horrific sounds have ceased.
“Placing you on my bike. Spread your legs,” he orders.
I do as I’m told, as he flings me off his shoulder so quickly that a small scream escapes me, my hands splaying out. Somehow, he manages to seat me on his bike, my palms spread in front of me, feeling the cold curve of metal. He cages me in with his body behind me.
“Normally, I would put a woman on the back, but I got a feeling you’re a flight risk. Sit still and place your hands on my thighs to support yourself,” I’m ordered by the one with the toothpick, I think.
The rumble of the bike’s engine roars to life beneath me, and I turn my head, instinctively trying to look around as I hear other bikes start up, even though my blindfold is still firmly in place. I refuse to place my hands on his thighs, instead choosing to cross them over my chest.
I feel his deep rumble of laughter at my back. “Stubborn little lady, ain’t ya?”
The bike begins to move, and I wobble slightly as it rides over the uneven ground. I gasp, my hands automatically reaching for his thighs. He chuckles louder as we ride. My grip tightens on his legs as the bike picks up speed, the wind blowing through my hair. With every turn, his thighs clamp tighter around me, keeping me secure.
I fight every urge within me to remove the blindfold. After witnessing that, the last thing I want to do is piss them off. I just want to come out of this alive.
Unsure how long we'd ride for and where we'd go, I’m eventually lifted off the bike and returned to the room they originally put me in. Nothing is said. They don’t even remove my blindfold.
I sit on the bed for ages after I hear the lock on the door. Waiting. Thinking they’re toying with me. That they’re going to kill me. Whenonly silence greets me, with a shaky hand, I remove my blindfold, realising I’m back in that room.
I sit there, waiting for what feels like hours. Waiting to meet my fate and waiting for the end. When it doesn’t come, I lie down, curling up on the bed. Exhaustion consumes me, and I’m unable to stay awake.
Even in sleep, those screams and those amber eyes find me. Chasing me, hunting me. The blood… so much blood.
My entire body jumps as my eyes spring open. I sit up, my body shaking, my lungs desperately sucking in air like I’m unable to breathe.
