I dangle from the chains reviewing what just happened. My one ally from the Agency, Giagia, turns against me and I get locked in a prison cell leaving Eric to fend for himself outside the gate. Awesome.
I sigh. What is there I can do? My father is slowly dying I have no idea who my mother is and my best friend is gone, possibly forever. My stomach starts to get butterflies. I pass it off as hunger and think of what the future holds. Would I just hang on this chain and starve to death? The butterflies turn to pterodactyls and I feel like I’m going to throw up. Why is my stomach acting like this?
Suddenly I have get a falling sensation. I thought I was chained to a wall how can I be falling? The chains are gone now and I shake my hands. What’s happening?
I land in the same room I saw my father. That’s right! I say to myself That dart had that stuff in it making me able to do this. I smile a bit until I look up from the ground.
My father’s being led away with two guards, one on each side. I scramble to get up and follow them out the door that, when closed, joins seamlessly into the wall. His head hangs low and I hear the voice again. It repeats Lucy over and over. This time I know it’s my father. Sometimes he mumbles her name aloud, if the guards hear they hit him with a cane on his back. This has happened twice in the past five minutes. He always reacts the same, firsts whimpering and stumbling forward then shutting his mouth and staring at the chains that bind his hands.
We twist and turn until we reach a metal door. Never once did my father stop saying Lucy. The guards open the door and take us to the outside. I gasp. Everything is so beautiful. There’s a natural wall of trees and bushes surrounding us. My father doesn’t look up but stares at the ground with sad eyes. I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion. The ground is covered in a dark red.
The grass has been smashed to create a thick layer almost like a carpet. Dark spots range in sizes from the length of a body to tiny droplets. My hand finds its way to my mouth without my knowing. What once was beautiful turns into an ugly place full of sharp thorns and rough bark. The differents shapes of color on the grass is blood.
The guards drop my father on the ground. He lands on a large spot and when he turns to cower into a fetal position his face is marked with red. His breathing is ragged and he doesn’t try to cover his emotions. His eyes seem empty showing that he has no hope left. My eyes must have shown the same thing earlier.
A man in a perfectly tailored suit walks over to him and kicks his stomach. My father only cringes. He looks up at the man in the suit his face contorting into one of pure hatred. His eyes go hard and his mouth turns down. Even the way he is he works up the energy to spit right on the man’s expensive looking shoes.
The man in the suit’s face cracks into a sickening smile and chuckles evilly.
“I knew you would be hard to crack but seriously!” He exclaims, “You’ve gone through dehydration, starvation, being roasted like a pig!,” He says counting off his fingers. “But you haven’t broken! Not mentally anyway.”
There was fire involved? I take a closer look at him. Burn marks trail up his arms and up his chest. I gasp again and let my fingers trail the passage the fire took. Only an hour ago fire meant freedom.
My father hasn’t paid the man any attention since the spit. He has his eyes closed and his chest rises and falls evenly now.
“Fine if I can’t get your full attention by myself I know what can,” The man in the suit says coldly.
It surprises me how quickly he can change from being impressed to being angry.
“Bring in the girl!” He shouts.
From behind us the guards that were holding my father bring in a pale scrawny woman. This must be Lucy. My father turns his head to look in her direction curious as to what he has to offer. Lucy raises her head and the two make eye contact. My father’s face softens and for a couple seconds nothing else matters. Not the chains or the weakness, not the man in the suit or the guards.
My father puts both of his hands on the ground and pushes. He manages to get into a sitting position. A sheen of sweat covers his entire body. and he visibly shakes. He shifts his body into a kneeling position but in less than twenty seconds he’s back on the ground staring at the blood covering the once green grass.
“Drop her,” the man in the suit states.
The guards let go of Lucy. She stays on her hands and knees struggling to get air in her lungs. I stand by helpless as she crawls toward my now still father. She goes limp as soon as she’s at his side.
I tiptoe over to them even though no one can hear me. I kneel when I reach them and look at Lucy. I see the similar cheekbones and eye shape. My suspicions are true.
“Mom,” I whisper.
Her eyes flutter a little and I go still. She couldn’t have heard me. There is no way that’s what made her eyes do that. I put my arms around my dying parents. Why was I not told they existed? I could have saved them. I weep silently. The tears don’t fall off her face like they should. Instead of hitting the blood grass carpet they disintegrate when the touch the air off my face.
The man in the tailored suit had been watching my parents but now shifts his gaze in my direction. When our eyes meet there is a second of surprise scattered across his face. In an instant it’s gone and the corner of his lips pull back showing his teeth that had been sharpened into points.
The man clucks his tongue three times before saying,
“Well well well, I didn’t know you two had a daughter! And such a pretty one too.”
I look between him and my parents who are now looking around trying to see where I am. I stand and face the man and ask the only question I can think of not caring if he can hear me or not,
“Who are you?”
“Why, don’t you recognize me dear cousin of mine? Oh right of course not we never met!”
I shake my head trying to clear the confusion swirling in my brain like angry bees. He smirks. The butterflies are back and I know I’m about to leave so I ask one more question.
“What is your name?”
“Ah, but what is in a name?” He says.
“I asked you a question.” I say with a steely voice glaring at him.
He glares back for a moment but then wipes it away and replaces it with a proud smile.
“My name you ask? Why it’s Abaddon. Do you want to know what it means?”
I nod my head slowly the butterflies turn into mutant pterodactyls. He has to talk faster,
“My name means destruction or ruination. It’s a fitting title is it not?” He grins with pride in his horrid name.
I know it’s not his real name but it’s the best I’m going to get. The falling sensation happens and once again I’m hanging from the chains panting.
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