His Prisoner

Chapter 18

"I'll call you once its here....though it's not going to be anytime soon but don't fall asleep because there is no way I can wake people from their sleep's." Helen said, sounding more exhausted than me, it almost seemed like she was going to collapse on the floor, becoming aware of her worn out state I nodded in response and she continued.

"Especially cute humans like you." with those last words she let out a weak, dead laugh and I smiled, my imaginary curved lips presented that I wasn't sad as I meant to be.

"Bye," her frail fingers waved in the air before her weak legs carried her out of my room. I sighed once she was completely out of my view.

My chest dropped flat as I released my raucous breath. Approaching the main door of this room, I plunged the metal keys inside the dark hole just like the venomous drug was viciously inserted in me....Erik and his wicked games.

I shook my head defeatedly.

Thinking about him at this moment of my life was basically wasting my time and emotions but I couldn't peel his name off my heart that easily, especially when I had spent my entire life waiting for him to come back to me and when he did his heart was replaced by a stone, so hard that I had failed restoring it back.

The cold, breezing air seized parts of my skin that were left bare, a change of clothes was what made me smell and feel better than utterly disgusting, rotten smell of my body. Gripping a huge chunk of my hair, I clipped it with a black pin just in case it won't irritate me while I am on the bed...surveying the dagger.

I had to wait the entire day for this moment to come. First I was spending time eating with them and then I went out to the streets because something in this motel was suffocating me and I needed fresh air so I aimed for the park nearby.

While walking Helen joined me from nowhere and begin to ask questions about me and my life, the truth still stood hidden and the lies spilled out instantly. I didn't know how long I can hide my life, but I was scared that if I ever told someone about my dreadful life, I would be murdered right away.

It was around 9pm and everything was mortally silent as usual, howls could be heard from the forest near, I was a little traumatised thinking it would have been Erik but then I accepted they were just normal wolves holding thundering vocals, it was common here, at least that was what the lady in the reception said.

She seemed pretty tensed in the beginning when we arrived, her fingers were quivering along with her lips were stuttering when she handed me the keys to this room but then later on I figured out what she was exactly scared of...maybe she was the one who had locked and sealed the dagger inside that box but I who was I to question her.

She'd probably throw me out if I asked her something.

I circled around the glorious object buried under my covers, I was anxious to touch it again, to feel the sharp tip and reread everything written on it once again. Still shocked that I could do a discovery like that, I smiled sitting down to the bed given to me.

It was a enormous bed compared to the one back in the castle, the sheets were in red and pillows were in plain black, I did spend some time laying down feeling the warmth but now wasn't the time.

Ripping the covers in anticipation, I threw them on the floor, not even glancing back at them for once. I needed to study the object but it would be only possible if I was sitting on the humongous library built inside the castle walls. Everything I have knowledge off is from reading those thick book, the scar's legend, the moon's prophecy, werewolves, vampires and witches.

The only thing that interested me the most was learning witches, searching every page for my creator but I didn't found a single text about mother...nothing...it almost felt she never existed. But I was confirmed that she was still alive and running around for something else she wants...which unfortunately wasn't me.

Even if she cared or send someone to look at how I was doing was her pity for me. Not wanting to get my hopes high, I brushed that thought off too.

Picking the sharp dagger up from the bed, I rolled it around my fingers like it was play toy, I wasn't scared to cut myself...until I actually did.

I rolled my fingers at the bottom of it and placed it on my palm. Rubbing my skin slowly with the blade, I could feel the edge of it and as I sped up my pace a unpleasant, burning sting was replaced on my skin instead of the dagger.

A low, whispery grunt came off me as the cut begin to burn more.

The exact second after, I threw the dagger on the corner of the room and tightly clutched my hands together in pain, a warm liquid dripped down my wrist and as I looked down, my breathing hitched when I saw puddle of sticky blood collecting around my hands.

It was hurting worse than anything else I'd ever imagined, it was more painful than the punishments I have been received and more agonizing than the cuts I had once given to myself.

The continuous nips were like excessive bees were nibbling me, I sucked my lips in and clawed them with my teeth so I couldn't scream. Rolling over the bed, I curled up in the corner.

I clutched my hands closer to my chest, each of them overlapping each other as heaps of red blood oozed from that small cut. I closed my eyes and applied more force on my other hand which wasn't injured but it didn't make an ounce different.

I gave up and closed my eyes begged for this unknown pain to stop.

"It won't!"