3. Escape Plan Pt. 1
Escape Plan Pt. 1
Eliza
Flashback
H er memories skittered along the surface of her mind. They were the only thing that kept her sane in this dark place. She’d been so sure that coming to Veil City was the right choice, but now, as she sat crouched in the corner of a cell, she regretted it. The other witches were like her, all weakened and barely able to breathe; night after night, they watched their sisters dragged away, their eyes holding terror as their screaming voices filled the halls of their prison.
“Eliza,” she turned away from the only window and faced the person who’d called her. “What do you see?”
“I don’t see anything, Ashe, just the moon.” Ashe was the third girl who’d been thrown into her cell; her eyes were silver with yellow flecks, her skin was pale, and what once had been the lean sylvite body of a ballerina was now a thin, emaciated form of starvation. Her bones stuck out, and her hair had dulled. “I tell you this every time.’
Taking a seat next to Ashe, she moved close so she and Ashe could lean on one another. They attempted to share warmth despite the cold of the stone prison. “I just need a reminder that there is a world beyond this one. Not only for me but for you, Eliza, we must remember there is a world outside this suffering one.”
The place they now lived was filled with pain and despair. She felt her sanity reset when she looked up and remembered who she had been before. “I don’t know what you think I should see.”
“I wish you were a white witch; you could see the lights,” Ashe whispered as she rested her head on her shoulder. I used to be afraid when I saw them, but as I grew older, I found peace in seeing the shiny lights as they rose above the veil and headed to the river of reincarnation. The dead who’ve died and are at peace are returning home.” She glanced to the corner of the cell. “Here, they cannot settle. There is no peace to be found.”
Eliza had initially been creeped out when she’d learned Ashe was a white witch, but now she couldn’t help but wonder how anyone could find peace here. Another scream ripped through the silence of the cells. “I don’t want to die here only to remain trapped within these walls.”
Ashe lifted her pale, thin hand and placed it on her knee. “I won’t let that happen. You’ve been the reason I’ve held on, a friend, an anchor, and my soul sister. With my last breath, I would send your soul to find peace no matter what. Remember that we share the blood and legacy of those who have overcome evil before, and there is no end to us as long as we hold each other's hearts.” She smiled, but Eliza couldn’t reciprocate. Instead, she felt her anger grow. If only she were stronger. If only she were a true witch. She bit her lip, as she’d done a thousand times before, in frustration.
She closed her eyes, but the warm press of tears on the back of her lids made her know that crying was inevitable. Ashe's shuddering breaths told her more than anything that her friend would soon leave her.
They’d barely fed them after their torture and left them to rot without any care.
The sound of a metal rod banging against bars had her looking up wearily, and her eyes met a dull orange gaze. “You two.” The demon guards stared at her and Ashe. She trembled, wrapping her arms tighter around her friend. “Take them.”
“No.” Eliza pulled her friend closer. “Stop.”
She knew she was powerless, but she had to do something, anything, to keep Ashe by her side. “Don’t!”
They rushed in, filling the space; she shoved and pulled at them, gripping her friend’s hand. “No, let her go,” she screamed, punching and kicking, as her arm stretched out as they tried to pull Ashe from her. “Don’t, please. Don’t. Leave her alone, I’m begging, leave her! Please!”
They ignored her cries as they jerked them apart. She frantically reached out for her.
“Ashe. Ashe, don’t go. Please don’t leave me.” She wailed as they dragged her friend away. Ashe didn’t cry or scream; she only offered her a soft smile as she was taken.
Eliza was roughly thrown down, her head knocking against the stone floor. She gasped, her dazed gaze searching the cell, “No—stop.” She whispered; they grabbed her by the hands and dragged her along the rough floor; as she was pulled out, the head guard lifted his short metal rod and brought it down on her body. She jerked with every solid hit; her cries of pain echoed out as the other guard held her arms, not allowing her to curl up.
With a pleasured gasp, he stopped beating her and licked his lips, looking down at her, “Take her to the professor. She’s fierce; she’s strong enough to be tied to a spirit.”
Eliza stared blankly ahead as she was pulled along. She knew she was in pain, but she couldn’t register it—nothing beyond the numb realization that she had no real power over her fate. She’d thought she was in control all her life, but now she could see that she had nothing at all.
The stone floor scraped along the back of her legs, and she watched as the lights passed. The sound of rushing water grew stronger, mixing with the occasional growls between the demons as they led her deeper into the prison.
After a while, she was dropped to the floor, and the two guards continued on following their leader to a closed door. With two knocks, a voice came from the other side.
“Have you brought me the other specimen?”
The door cracked open, and her eyes widened as the bright light covered her, and her eyes tried to make sense of the scene inside. Her lips parted, and she screamed.
End of Flashback
Her entire body ached.
“What were you thinking?”
She couldn’t move; her body felt like it was still under a thousand pounds of blankets. Every time she thought of shifting, her body would give up. If it weren’t for the fact she could feel the cold brush of wind against her skin, she’d have started panicking.
“I wasn’t,” a low masculine voice snapped; he sounded frustrated. “I couldn’t think. I just saw her and took her.”
“You’re an idiot. Listen, I’ve done a lot of dumb shit, but I am telling you, you are an idiot,” the British voice argued. “Did anyone see you take her?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
“Well, thank Zeus for that. Malcolm, you have to take her back.”
“I won’t.” The voice that had held a contrite note had turned stubborn. Eliza wasn’t sure who they were arguing over, but she held a small worry that they were talking about her. She tried to move again, and once more, she couldn’t. Her limbs were stuck.
How had she come to be here?
Where was she?
As her brain began filtering these questions, she felt her panic growing. She couldn’t remember anything. She frowned. The last thing she could remember was passing out cards at the poker table the night of the masquerade at the Shade.
Nothing else. It was like someone had turned the lights off, and now there was nothing but an echoing dark abyss in her head where memories should be.
“You’re being ridiculous, mate or not. She needs to be accounted for at the lab.”
The lab?
As if her body had been electrocuted, she suddenly sat up, her eyes open and her hand out. Her skin tingled as lights flicked along her skin. She felt frightened as what felt like a rush of power left her body and slammed into the man who’d been speaking.
“What?”
“Shit.”
Both men shouted in shock; the one she aimed for lifted his cane just in time to block her attack. Lightning crashed into his magically created shield. She screamed in her head, trying to stop herself, but her arm wouldn’t budge. The smell of smoke and a thick, flare-like light filled the room.
“Malcolm, stop her,” the male blocking her attack yelled. His once bright blue shield slowly fluctuated as it turned black as if the light had absorbed the magic within it. “I can only hold her off for so long.”
Eliza could feel the cold slide of tears falling from her eyes; she couldn’t stop herself. Why couldn’t she move? Her body thrummed with a foreign power. She felt like she was watching it all from far away.
“Please, please, someone stop me.”
She silently pleaded; it was too much. It was all just too much.
“Love." A large hand landed on her arm, and she shuddered as she felt whatever had a hold on her body suddenly released. She slumped forward as her hand dropped. Shivering, she clutched at the person like she was drowning. His warmth drew her close, and she gasped, trying to breathe in and out as fast as she could.
“Shh, it’s okay. I have you,” he whispered, but she could barely hear him through the shock. She tried to grasp the little sanity she had left, but like loaches, they slipped through her fingers, leaving only discomfort and confusion behind.
“I have you,” he repeated.
She wanted to demand answers but could only hold onto him and not scream. The power that had run through her body had been violent and intent on hurting the other male; she’d never felt such murderous hate before. She closed her eyes, her shivering slowing.
“Tell me how you really feel.” The sneakily spoken words were said by the man she’d attacked. She opened her eyes and glanced at him out of the corner of her eyes as he dropped his cane tip against the ground. Immediately, the area that had been scorched and burned withered and faded until it looked brand new.
His blue eyes narrowed on her. “I would assume the—" his lips worked, and as if he thought better of what he was about to say, he sighed. “Whatever, or whoever is occupying her body, isn’t interested in being returned.”
“Then she will remain with me,” Malcolm said, his voice rumbling against her ears. Eliza closed her eyes, hating her weakness, but she knew nothing. She couldn’t form a single thought before she felt her consciousness swept away once more by fear and panic. She needed a second to get her shit together.
And while she wasn’t sure who the two men in the room were. The man who glared at her was obviously eager to toss her into the hands of whoever was in charge. The one currently holding her wanted her near and unharmed.
She unknowingly pushed herself closer to the one holding her. For now, she’d stick with the man behind her.
“If you’re going to keep her, you can’t remain here.” The warlock pressed the lower half of the palm of his hand against his temple. “Tiller won’t be happy with you hiding her away. Just when I’d finally gotten Oye where I wanted her, this headache came along.”
“I know where to take her.”
She was fading; she wanted to ask where he thought he was taking her. She wasn’t going anywhere but home,—if she could build some strength, she’d demand they take her home.
“Malcolm, seriously. Think this over; they’ll chase you down.”
“I’ve made up my mind, Castian. I’ve served my time as I should; I told you already I won’t let chances at happiness slip through my fingers, and—it’s time I returned.”
Silence met his words, Eliza wanted to listen longer, but she fell unconscious before the next sentence was spoken.
The sound of birds chirping is what awoke her. Her eyelids felt heavy, but she forced them open. The sight of the blue sky was more a shock than welcome. How long had she been out? She moved to get up, only for her hand to press into the soft surface of the bed she lay in. Blinking, she shifted her hair brushed against her back as she straightened. She looked around the room; it wasn’t bare; it was clearly occupied by a man from the items that lay here and there.
The room held a desk and closet filled with basic jeans and a leather jacket, including something similar to a patterned blanket. Scooting to the end of the bed, she let her feet dangle before giving a slight jump. Surprisingly, she didn’t fall.
Her eyes squinted at the window, and her lips pressed together as she moved towards it. She couldn’t be sure if what she was seeing and experiencing was real. If this was another illusion, then she wasn’t sure she’d be able to recover from it.
Slowly walking over to the window, she didn’t attempt to cover her nude body. The floor felt real, as did the smell of aftershave. She walked over to the window and slowly reached out with her fingers, letting the tips tap against the cold surface. She flinched. She looked from her hand to the window before fully placing her right hand against the flat surface. Her other hand followed, and she inhaled deeply as she pressed them against the glass. She closed her eyes and felt the sun's heat against her nude skin.
Was this all real?
Or another dream?
“You're awake.” A gravelly voice spoke from behind her. She didn’t move away from the window; her first instinct was to whip around and cover herself. Then, her second instinct, one that had developed in the place where they stripped her humanity, was more concerned with the sensation of the sun.
Something wild lived inside her; everything she’d thought so important in her past had died. This being she was now, she didn’t fear anything except being drowned in the dark again.
“You saved me,” she said. Her voice cracked from no use. She opened her eyes, lowered her hands to her side, and turned to face the male behind her.
His green eyes met hers.
He held a tray with a steaming bowl and a cup of water in his hand. Some bread was sticking out from the top of the bowl. She looked at the food. A part of her wanted to rush at him and take it, but the more cautious side, the human inside of her, shook her head at that thought. They’d used drugs in the other place to keep her controlled; it was always in the food.
His eyes glittered with something as he looked her over. She could see the hunger behind his gaze, even though he attempted to hide it by looking away. He cleared his throat.
“I did,” he said, placing the tray on the bed. He moved silently across the wood floor to his closet, grabbed a large T-shirt, and moved toward her. “Do you mind putting this on?” He kept his distance, holding out the shirt. “I am not sure about others, but your naked body isn’t easy for me to ignore.”
Eliza smiled. “You are the first man to offer me clothes in a long time.”
Instead of smiling, his expression grew somber. “I can believe that. I want you clothed and not feeling like I’m a threat to you.” He flashed her a smile this time, and she could see his canines were a bit sharper than the average human.
She drew her eyes from his smile to his body. He wore a simple white T-shirt and blue jeans, and his feet were bare. His clothing choice made it easy to see that his body was a thing of art, but she wouldn’t let that distract her from her main goal. She reached out and took the shirt.
“I don’t feel you’re a threat,” she said, drawing the shirt over her body.
He nodded, pointing to the door on the right. “That’s the bathroom; I got you a toothbrush and face wash and some other things, if you want to clean yourself before you eat, you can.”
She looked towards the bathroom and nodded. “Thank you,” she said as she walked towards it. Reaching for the handle, she paused. A memory of the iron door she’d been locked behind popped into her mind’s eyes. She inhaled quickly, squeezing her eyes shut.
“Are you okay?”
She opened her eyes again and gave a short nod. She pressed the handle down and entered the bathroom, letting the door shut. She looked around the average size bathroom. It wasn’t large, but it was clean. She let a small smile slip from between her lips. Was this man a clean freak?
She walked over to the sink and saw that her items had been placed in a bag. Reaching for it, she paused at the sight of something on the back of her hand. She stared at what looked like a cursive script, like a tattoo, and as she followed it up her arms, she pulled her shirt from her chest and looked down. Finally, she looked at the mirror.
She didn’t scream; her eyes were filled with indescribable pain and terror at what was reflected at her. Her face was sewn together around her cheeks and forehead, though the skin was all the same. There was surgical scaring where her neck touched her collar bone, but her left arm was a pale white. And her right leg was an obsidian color. She reached for the edge of her shirt and lifted and flinched at the surgical scar around her hip, which was obviously where they’d attached the leg.
She pulled the collar down and saw both arms that had been attached had surgical scar tissue left behind where they connected with her shoulders.
She felt something warm hit the back of her hand.
“W-who?” Her voice shook, and the calm she’d been holding on to like a lifeline disappeared. As her eyes filled with tears, she just watched the stranger in the mirror cry.
The world she’d belonged to so long ago was gone, and she knew she’d never really leave the dark cell she’d occupied. Her captivity had been imprinted on her soul and showed itself in her hollowed gaze and the deep scars that decorated her body.
She covered her mouth and breathed deeply, forcing herself to regain composure.
After a few minutes, she lowered it, undid the tied plastic bag, and began getting herself together. Right now, the only thing she could control was her cleanliness; through that, she could get as close as she could to her old self.