Chapter 24
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
ALYX
My eyes fluttered, wanting to open, but I willed them not to. The pain was too much. I could feel it burn all the way through my spine, my skin slowly turning to ash.
I had no idea where I was, and I didn’t care. All I remembered was being scooped up from the floor by the cold arms of the devil, then carried out while the world around me blurred with my own tears.
I didn’t feel anything. The last time I looked into the green eyes of the devil, it was also the last time I felt something.
It was his words that paralyzed me, killing everything I needed to feel human.
While he carried me, the icy chill of his presence spread throughout my body.
But he no longer scared me. Burning in hell with him no longer frightened me.
Maybe I deserved the flames. Maybe I deserved to be turned into nothing but ash.
A life was lost because of me, because of the devil’s obsession with me.
Maybe my life should have been lost as well, a way to atone for what my existence had caused. It would only be fair.
But fair no longer mattered.
My eyelids twitched, and the urge to open them was stronger than before. The flames burning my skin went from searing to raging, and my body felt heavy, as if gravity was trying to pull me toward it, twisting and yanking, yet I couldn’t move.
Everything ached. There was so much pain I couldn’t pinpoint where it stemmed from. It was everywhere, penetrating deep into the marrow of my bones.
Something wet trickled from the corner of my eye and down my nose until it disappeared. Was that a tear? Was I crying?
Finally, the urge to open my eyes proved too strong, so I opened them. At first, everything was blurry, hazy, one bright sight of white. But when I tried to wipe my eyes, I couldn’t move my arm. Every limb felt like dead weight, the pain becoming stronger by the second.
I moved my lips, wanting to ask where I was, but my mouth was taped shut. I couldn’t talk. I couldn’t move. What the hell was happening? All I managed were a few moaning sounds vibrating up my throat.
A few blinks later, my vision became clearer, but I still couldn’t figure out what was going on. Then I noticed a bright pool of crimson below me. Blood. My blood. I could see drops dripping down from where I was, joining the pool on the floor.
Oh, God.
I lifted my head, but I couldn’t see behind me. Something was keeping me trapped, making it almost impossible to move.
Desperate to figure out what was going on, I moved my head from side to side. But everything was white. The walls, the floor. The only color was that of the blood on the tiles.
I wanted to scream but made nothing but muffled noises.
“There she is.”
The voice startled me, my body numb except for the pain still burning across my flesh.
I jerked my head back and forth, trying to find the voice. Something rattled above me, a clanging noise of complaining chains. Jesus Christ. Where the fuck was I?
“You seem comfortable up there…ballerina girl.”
Oh, my God. I didn’t recognize the voice. Where was I? Who took me?
Fear gripped my spine, panic penetrating deep into the pit of my stomach. What did he mean with “up there?” What was happening?
Desperate and afraid, I turned my head as far as I could…
until I caught a glimpse of a glinting chain hanging down from the ceiling right above me.
Horror sent a shockwave of agony through my entire body, and I yanked forward, only to be pulled back by the worst pain I had ever experienced in my life.
It stabbed into my back, shooting through every nerve as if a flame had been set alight inside me.
It was excruciating, and I screamed. But the sound merely slammed against the tape across my mouth.
“What’s the matter, ballerina girl? You don’t like hanging from the ceiling? I think you look beautiful up there.”
Tears streamed down my face, dripping off my cheeks to join the pool of blood on the floor. I hung my head, and I could see my arms dangling, streaks of blood trickling down my skin…my hands…my fingers. Jesus, my fingers.
I moved my hand, opening my palm, and when I saw the gaping hole where my forefinger was supposed to be, terror slammed against my throat, and I couldn’t breathe.
The raw ache of open flesh tore up my arm, and I could hear my heartbeat inside my head, throbbing pulses of pain violently zapping through me.
When my gaze dropped to the floor, I could see my severed finger surrounded by and covered with blood.
“It’s only fair for you to lose a finger since your friend suffered through the same.”
Again, I tried to look around, to see where the voice came from. But the more I tried to move, the stronger the pain became.
“God, you look exquisite up there. Like a swan.” A manic laugh filled the empty hollows in the room. “Swan Lake.”
The blood in my veins froze.
Swan Lake.
Neon.