The Inferno

Chapter 24 The Doll

I take it back.

When I said take me ‘far, far away from here’, I should have been more specific.

The small, dismal box I’m currently residing in has made me rethink all of my previous actions.

I now had no idea why I thought being put in a dank prison cell, awaiting my punishment for the various crimes it seemed I’d committed (but had yet to be informed of), would be a better idea than waiting for Ezekial to return and murder me.

Maybe the lack of my powers also inhibited my brain function?

Now, I was completely trapped. Awaiting what I already knew would be an unpleasant trial and possibly a life sentence in this hell hole. The thought of never seeing my family again turns my stomach into a tight, thick knot. I’d promised myself I’d do anything to get back to them but, at the first hurdle, I practically skipped into this place.

I look around the room for the hundredth time, scanning the walls which are supposed to be white but are yellow, stained with various fluids I didn’t want to distinguish. There’s a small, rusted bed frame with no coverings, a seatless, metal toilet where stomach-turning smells seep from and a blinding fluorescent light which flickers incessantly. That’s all that resides in here.

And me.

Putrid scents, suffocating silence and my troubling thoughts, all locked together in one coffin-sized cell.

I began screaming the second I woke, my muscles still aching from the previous electrocution, but my voice seemed to bounce around the room, fading away into the air rather than piercing through the walls. The only part of the cell which isn’t ‘white’ or solidified concrete, is the one facing out into the narrow hallway. This part of the cell is made of thick, transparent, soundproof glass, I assume it’s to ensure the prisoners can always be watched whilst ignoring their cries simultaneously.

Across from me, there is another claustrophobic cube. I can see a small, curled-up body in the furthest corner of it, on the stained ground, underneath the metal bed frame as though it will hide them. They haven’t moved since I’d arrived, which could have been five minutes or five hours, but the shuddering movement from their breathing at least means they’re alive.

With no way to decipher whether it was day or night, I wondered if I should have been ‘asleep’ too, but time here was endless, indistinguishable, unbearable .

It's the waiting that was pushing me to insanity.

Waiting for this all to be over. To receive my punishment, to have my power back, to try and fight a final time to get home.

These last few weeks, or it could have even been a month, had been the most challenging of my short life. And, although I was exhausted—mind, body and soul—I wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

I just sat, stared and planned.

After what may have been a few minutes, or an hour, my assumption about the soundproof glass is confirmed when two guarded men suddenly appear before me. I can’t see their faces, due to their black, opaque visors, but I can see their steps and the lack of noise they produce even in heavy, thick boots.

They’re not coming to my cell though. No, they’re heading towards the one directly opposite me and I watch in captivation, anticipation. My heart begins to race a little faster.

One of the guard’s removes his glove and places a hand upon the glass wall of the cell, seemingly in a random place that is until a panel melts away.

Instantly, the small body trying to hide in the corner begins to uncoil slowly from its tightly formed ball.

It’s a girl.

Her extremely long, black hair covers her body like a velvet cloak, curtaining the majority of her ashen face. Her slim shoulders hunch over as she remains on the floor but she peers up at the two people entering. They remove their visors and I make a mental note of their appearances.

Two men: one is overweight with a large stomach and stubby legs, the other is slim and tall with limbs like a spider. Both with short, buzz cut hair and otherwise unremarkable features. I try to concentrate on their lips as they speak, squinting and pushing my face as close to my glass wall as possible.

“Something about ‘visiting’ …” I quietly murmur, intensely focused now. “ Didn’t want you to miss us.” My brows pull together and I narrow my gaze as though that will help me decipher their words more. It doesn’t.

But their actions soon make their intentions much clearer.

The girl’s body begins to shake so hard it looks as though she’s having a seizure, her arms tighten around her bent, quivering form, and one of the men reaches for the belt of his pants.

I’m stood, cringing at the sharp pain from my ankle but ignoring it as I begin hammering at the glass. I keep pounding with my fists, hard blows which make them ache, but there’s no reaction.

I scream, the intense fury filling my lungs bursting like fire as I continue punishing the glass with heavy blows. It doesn’t even shudder. I can almost hear my screams thudding against the glass and rebounding with my fists but they never penetrate through.

The men begin to creep towards her bed frame and I turn to desperately search my cell for something, anything, I can use. I lunge towards the bed frame, grabbing the corner and throwing it against the glass. I ignore it bouncing back towards me, broken pieces scratching my skin, whilst I watch in terror.

The men begin kneeling by her bed, reaching beneath it with lazy swipes like they’re playing with prey, and she desperately pushes back into the corner.

There’s no response to me. They don’t even see me.

I grab a piece of the frame and continue pummelling it into the glass, more pieces break off and ricochet around the room.

In utter horror, I continue to watch as one of the guard’s, the one with jaundice skin, stretches to reach under the bed. The girl urgently scuttles away, just out of his reach, and I stare at the other guard, the one balding at the crown of his head. He throws the bed frame up and into the wall.

Leaving her completely vulnerable.

He grabs a fistful of her hair, drags her to her feet, and slams her into the wall so hard the back of her head bounces off it.

She is so small.

Not just in height. The scrap of clothing on her tiny body is masked in filth and barely clings to her limbs. Her pronounced collarbones and shoulder bones protrude like lines of marble, revealed by the ripped neckline. The way she holds herself is also small—head hanging low, hair falling almost entirely over her face, her thin, bare legs shaking with intense fear under the scrap of her dress .

Seeing her more clearly, seeing these two towering men dominating her, does something to me.

My fury becomes so intense I can feel it roaring through my veins.

I taste blood, my eyes change and the remaining metal in my hand bends under my grip. My power is eagerly flickering beneath the heavy lull it’s battling, trying to spark and ignite but not quite making it yet.

Then, her eyes land on mine.

They threw the girl against the glass wall, her small hands rushing in front to stop her face from hitting it.

Our bodies mirror one another now, both shaking with raw emotions across from each other. Her pale, lifeless eyes seeing mine, pleading , her horror magnified by pale, gaunt skin and trembling lips. She looked like a beautiful, haunted doll.

A broken, emancipated doll with bruised, glass skin.

Somehow, even in this barricaded cell, her terror sinks into me. A crackle runs across my skin causing me to shiver.

I stare at the guards who have also noticed me, their wide eyes flickering with a range of emotions before their lips begin to move again. “When did they put someone in that cell?”

With them directly in front of me, I can read them almost perfectly. “About an hour ago, I forgot to mention it—”

“Forgot to mention it? She’s been fucking watching us!”

I lower my gaze slightly, silently confirming his words, then raise it back.

The guard gripping the girl’s hair only smiles in response. “I don’t mind.”

I feel sick.

A hot churning builds in my gut which makes my fingers curl into fists and my power sparks furiously.

“She’s doesn’t look like the type to keep quiet,” baldy says. I almost smile at the presumption.

“Maybe you need to go in there and show her how to be quiet?” They share a dark, salacious smile before jaundice guy continues, “Maybe we won’t need to share for once…”

I drop my gaze.

I’m sure my submissive action made their suggestion even more tempting, especially for two predatory monsters.

But I dealt with creatures like this regularly, creatures who felt like they had a right to do things and take things simply because they could. I knew how to lure them.

Trap them.

Punish them .

My small action of defeat, maybe even fear, would be enough for them to be tempted.

But as I stare impassively at the dirty floor, I force myself to hide the smile I’m eager to show. Even with my powers barely surfacing, it’s enough. The thought of one of them entering this cell, entering my domain, has my power practically gnawing at the fatigue that holds it down.

I don’t see the rest of their conversation, but I do see a pair of black boots reaching my glass wall. I stay in this position, against the glass, head dropped, until sounds of someone softly humming and footsteps burst into my cell.

My turned eyes lock with the doll across from me, watching through the glass as the guard runs his nose along her delicate throat and she shivers. I send her a small smile, her eyes widen in response, and his yellow gaze finally catches mine.

His smile slowly drops when he sees me, when he sees my smile, but it’s too late now.

Turning to the man entering my cell, I scan his overweight form, noting the bulky size of his arms and wide chest. They’re both shifters of some kind. What a disgrace to their kind.

Then his emotions hit me hard .

After being powerless and confined, essentially going cold-turkey, being hit by shifter emotions (which were always intense) was like injecting pure heroin.

Lust, excitement, anticipation and suspicion slam into me. My power finally ignites, uncoiling the smallest strand which sends warmth throughout my aching body. The pain of my ankle completely forgotten now as I take calculated steps towards the man.

His weak, yellow gaze is wary as he watches me now, I note beads of perspiration forming along his thinning hairline, the slight flush of his pock-marked skin, his wide nostrils flaring as he inhales my scent. He’s still very much excited and it only adds to my power.

“You’re a pretty, little thing, ain’t ya’?” he attempts to purr, but the sound is gargled by the salvia forming at the edges of his mouth. I physically restrain myself from cringing. “If ya’ do what you’re told, we can make ya’ time ‘ere much more bearable and have a bit of fun. How does tha’ sound, sweet thing? ”

My anger and revulsion thicken, my coils unfurling, but I keep my expression schooled. “Do you like playing with little girls?” I ask, my voice low.

He frowns, clearly not expecting that response and scratching the balding at the back of his head. “What makes ya’ think ya’ in a position to ask questions, sweetheart?”

I can’t help it, I cringe at the nickname, my eyes shutting, nose scrunching, and when I open them again, he’s much closer. So close, I see the sweat coating his body and smell his tangy, repulsive scent.

“I’ve got a much better position for ya’. Get on ya’ knees,” he orders, he even points to the ground to make sure I fully understand where he wants me to go.

My lips slowly peel back into a dangerous smile, one which compliments the deadly stare of my sable gaze. I study the pathetic excuse of a man as his suspicion morphs into concern.

“Now, that’s definitely not a position for me, sweetheart, ” I respond, never dropping my grin, never removing my sight, as I point one finger down to the exact same spot on the ground. “Get on your knees,” the command is filled with a sliver of darkness which echoes around the room and halts the flickering, fluorescent light immediately.

The only light now is from the hallway.

This is only a snippet of my true power, but the extent to which I could wield it depends on the creatures. Only weak minded, putrid, disgusting beings whose scent was always the same.

Bleak, tangy and utterly repulsive.

Their brains only ever feeding their ego, acting primally, sinfully indulgent. And because their emotions were always so intense, it gave me the power to not only manipulate them but completely control them.

He drops with a thud, his beady eyes widening, sweat dripping onto the floor beneath him. Turning, he faces the cell opposite to seek out his comrade. I turn too, he’s been watching us which is why I was taking my time. Now, his eyes widen.

He pushes the girl to the floor and races towards us.

I stare down at the guard kneeling before me, the darkness in me preens at the sight of his terror. “Looks like you will be sharing me today, sweetie.” I grin, all teeth, as I send a hard kick directly to his head .

He falls to the ground and I begin pushing my power into my legs, sending kick after kick into his chest, ribs and stomach. He can’t move because I’ve commanded it, I’ve taken his sickening lust and remanded him powerless. He’s desperately trying to get back onto his knees with every blow.

When his friend finally enters, the same tangy scent fills the room and I inhale the wretched smell happily.

“Slam your head into the wall,” I command and watch as he moves to do so. “Uh uh, wrong wall. The glass one. Let her s ee. Let her hear your agony as your skin splits, let her smell your blood as it seeps onto the ground and then… you will keep going, you will never stop.”

His fear is a pleasant taste now, emitting form them both in thick waves which surround me and fuels my ravenous power.

I watch him deliver the first smack, the sound musical as his forehead pounds again and again and again.

Baldy is back on his knees, blood running from his mouth and along his double chin. “Join your friend, smash your skull so hard into the glass that you can’t see through the blood, then keep going until you hear a crack, again and again. You understand? You evil piece of shit.”

He’s up, terror filled eyes flickering from me to the glass wall before he throws his head forward with a loud crack. The sounds of the two men pummelling the glass with their skulls creates a violent melody which fills the small room.

The girl is watching them, her wide eyes flittering with a variety of emotions, terror the most prominent as she finally looks towards me. Of course, she’s scared of me. Look at what I’ve just done.

But they deserve it. They deserve so much more. Rip off their limbs, break their teeth, skin them alive, make them pay.

Punish them.

There it is. The creepy darkness I’d missed so much, finally back. I actually sigh in relief at hearing the voice again.

A part of me I’d always tried to dismiss it as something ‘other’ but I was quickly realising what it was, what it really meant.

Kill them, bathe in their blood…

I shake the tempting thoughts away, images of body parts being flung around the cell, a foot landing in the toilet being the most difficult to shake, and focus back upon the small, terrified girl .

I exit my cell, watching the men from the other side as blood runs down their face, into their eyes, their mouths open with screams desperate to be released. Truly a pleasant sight but, even with my darkness, I can still acknowledge how this could be traumatising.

“Enough, hold your breath.” They do. I watch until the first one drops unconscious, knowing they’ll begin to breathe on their own now, and turn towards the girl again.

“How do I get you out?” I mouth, pointing at the panel that had disappeared before.

She just stares at me.

Wide, empty eyes which seem to stare without really seeing. I slowly move closer, putting my face as close to the glass without touching. She steps away initially, but stops when she realises I can’t get any closer.

She’s so much younger than I expected. Barely a teen. As my eyes caress her battered form, bruises, cuts and scars blemishing the skin left bare, my anger begins to build until I catch my reflection in the glass.

Demonic black eyes with splatters of fresh blood speckling my skin. Not a good look when trying to console someone, especially someone so fragile. My crimson eyes return and I wet my fingers, quickly smudging away the blood on my face and trying to smile softly as I do.

“I won’t hurt you,” I say, hoping she’s lip reading like I was. “I know that might be hard to believe but I promise it’s true. They were hurting you, I just wanted to help and now... I want to get you out of here, both of us. Is that OK?”

Again, she just stares, watching me as though I can’t possibly be real. Irritation begins to form but I push it away. I wish I could feel her emotions, I’m desperate for something beside the vile feelings rushing through my body still. There’s another loud thud and I realise the other wolf has finally dropped too.

The girl’s eyes track me as I run my hands along the glass wall, trying to find the exact spot he touched. She follows me like a cautious animal, eyes flickering everywhere I go until I halt, and point to a smudged area.

“Here, they need to put their hand here, right?” I ask her, watching carefully for any indication of agreement.

Finally, she nods. The barest tilt of her head causing her curtain of hair to fall over her eyes again, but it’s something .

I smile, making sure it’s soft, no teeth, and not at all threatening, before swiftly returning to my cell. I grab the closest guard by the shirt, dragging him into the corridor and hitching him up against the glass. I hold his bloody hand against it and, seconds later, he falls forward into her cell with a thud.

Her emotions are like wisps of an early morning breeze in spring, threading through my fallen, tangled hair and sweeping around my body before slipping into me like mist from the sea.

Terror.

More terror than I thought possible for one body to hold, especially one so small. So much my own body begins to shake the way hers did and the pain of my ankle returns in a stabbing ache which causes me to stumble.

She steps forward at this, as though to help me, but quickly moves back again.

“It’s OK, I’m OK,” I reassure her, my voice breathless as I battle her intense emotion and attempt to manipulate it into something, anything , else. “I’m an empath.”

Those words seem to register, her pale eyes widening in acknowledgment as she nods again.

I take a few steadying breaths and manage to not change but push her terror deeper, locking it inside the coils still struggling to surface. They hungrily feed.

I see her nervous, tentative expression begin to soften slightly now she isn't consumed by it and a new emotion begins to form, one of hope.

“Should we get out of here?” My voice is returning to normal, my ankle just an irritating throb now.

She glances around her cell a moment, flickering to the bloody smear the guard’s body made when I dragged him here, then to the broken bed frame she’d hidden under. I’m not sure what she’s looking for, but her eyes eventually land back on me as she nods firmly.

“Great! Now, have you got any idea which way we need to go?” I gently question, keeping that soft smile present.

It’s a risk asking her that, she might begin to panic again, but I push the tiniest piece of hope to bursting point, filling her small form with as much possible. She gives me the tiniest, sweetest smile accompanied by her nod .

“Perfect, come on.”

I lead the way out of the cell, even with no indication, and watch her body naturally turn towards our escape. I quickly take the front and begin walking down the narrow corridor, I hear her soft footsteps as she follows.

We pass more glass cages, the people inside often asleep or curled into balls like she was, only a few are actively looking through the glass and at the sight of us, they begin to pummel the wall soundlessly.

I feel her halt behind me, the fear trickles out once more and I feel small fingers grip the back of my dress. Her touch amplifies the feeling and I grit my teeth at the sudden addition.

“We need to think about ourselves, Doll.” I turn to catch her gaze locked with mine. “Sometimes, in this world, we’re given a shit deal and, sometimes, that means we must be selfish. This is one of those times. Do you understand?”

I watch her small, pink lips pull into a stern line, like she’s really concentrating. I’m about to continue moving forward until she gives me a hard, confident nod, her pale gaze glimmering slightly. I nod in response before pushing her fear away, again.

We keep going, soon reaching the end, and I mentally make note of the twenty cells down here—less than I anticipated—and I wonder if we’d been placed in a secure unit. But why would this vulnerable girl be down here?

We’re met with a large, metal door with a black scanner by the side. This all seemed too easy. As a place for ‘criminals’, you’d expect the security to be impenetrable. But then, if that’s what the guards got up to down here, I wouldn’t be surprised if the cameras had been turned off.

“You think the guard’s hand will open this?” I ask, already knowing the answer, but eager to give her some essence of power back. Her eyes narrow as she focuses, analysing the scanner for something, before she excitedly nods. “Good, OK, I’ll go back and get… what we need. You stay here.”

She bites her lower lip, blinking quickly and her eyes seem to gleam. Panic seeps into me and I groan at the sensation, not now . My groan only makes the panic flare and I mentally chide myself.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon. I promise,” I attempt to soothe, realising what had initiated her panic, asking her to be alone. My power fights to twist the panic into something akin to reassurance. “I need you to be brave for me, Doll. Can you do that for me? You’ve been so brave for so long. Just a little bit longer, OK?”

Chewing her lip, tears already falling from her gaze, she aggressively rubs them away, balling her hands into small fists and staring defiantly into my eyes. She gives me one sharp nod. I gently rub away the tears she missed, she doesn’t flinch from my touch but watches me with wide eyes before I quickly turn and run back to my cell.

There’s no need to fill her in on the gruesome detail of what came next, smashing the guard’s wrist with my bare foot, watching the bones crack and protrude until my power seeps out to coil around the remaining limb, ripping off his entire hand off.

When I return, I make sure to hide the bloody appendage behind my back and she gives me another small smile, one that has me grinning in response. That’s when I notice her long hair had fallen behind her ears, revealing her throat. Around it are deep red, circles, vicious scars glazed over in silvery skin, wrapping around her small neck like a savage choker.

She seems to notice where my gaze has fallen, a small hand instinctively raising to cup her neck and attempt to hide the marks before she removes it again. Her glistening eyes seeking mine out.

“What did they do to you?” I murmur, my anger quickly forming as I see just how deep the scars really are, like thick talons of glass had sunk into her.

A deafening siren has us both flinching, the hallway becomes drenched in a bright red light and metal bars fall down over the glass walls of our cell mates.

Fear pierces the air.

I slam the guard’s hand, tendons dangling, against the scanner.

“Access denied, lockdown in progress.”