Chapter 8: The Dungeon's Mouth
815 Words
The stairs. Cold. My feet were bare. i***t. Why no shoes? I dunno. Forgot I guess.
Walked down. Step step step. Sounded like my heart. Or my head. Same thing.
Dungeon smelled bad. Really bad. Like old blood and piss and something dead. Something sweet too. Rotting sweet. I didn't wanna know what.
Two guards at the bottom. Big guys. Armed. Scared of me. They moved fast when they saw me. Like I was fire or something.
"Where?" I said.
One of them pointed. Didn't even look at my face. "Third cell. Left side."
I walked.
Damian was on the floor. Sitting. Pathetic. His back against the wall. His arm – the one I bit – wrapped in dirty rags. Brown stains. Old blood. My teeth marks. I smiled a little. Not nice smile.
He looked up when he heard me.
His eyes were red. Like he'd been crying. Or maybe he was sick. Or maybe both. I didn't care.
"Lila," he said. His voice was small. Not like before. Before he was big and loud and scary. Now he was just a guy on the floor in piss.
"Damian."
"You came to watch?"
I leaned on the bars. Looked at him. Really looked.
He was still handsome. Still had that face. That jaw. But something was missing. The fire. The lies. The way he used to look at me like I was garbage on his shoe.
"No," I said. "I came to ask you something."
He laughed. It wasn't a real laugh. Just air. Empty.
"I'm not answering nothing."
"Yeah. You will."
"Why?"
"Cause you got nothing else left to lose."
He was quiet for a minute. Maybe two. The torches crackled. Water dripped somewhere. A rat ran past my foot. I didn't flinch. Didn't move.
"Fine," he said. "Ask."
"Why did you kill her?"
He knew who I meant. Didn't pretend not to know.
"Your mother?"
"Yeah. My mother."
He looked at the ceiling. His jaw was tight. For a second, I thought I saw something. Regret? Sadness? No. Probably not. He didn't have those feelings.
"Because she knew," he said.
"Knew what?"
"About you. Your blood. The curse." He laughed again. Mean this time. "She knew what you'd become. What you are. She tried to hide you. Protect you from me. But I couldn't let that happen. A cursed kid in my pack? A monster waking up one day? No. No no no."
He looked at me. His eyes were cold. Empty. Dead.
"I should've killed you too."
I didn't move. Didn't blink. Just stood there looking at him.
"You should have," I said. "But you didn't. And now?"
I grabbed the bars. Squeezed. The metal bent. Like it was made of paper. Like it was nothing.
Damian's eyes went wide. His mouth opened but nothing came out. No sound. Just air.
"Now I'm the monster," I said. "And you're just a man in a cage. In piss. In the dark. Alone."
I turned. Started walking.
"Wait," he said. "Lila. Please. Please wait."
I stopped. Didn't turn around.
"Kill me. Just kill me. I'm begging you."
I smiled. He couldn't see it. But I think he heard it in my voice.
"No," I said. "You stay here. In the dark. With the rats. With her screams. Every night. Forever. Until you forget what the sun looks like."
I walked up the stairs.
Behind me, Damian started crying. Loud. Ugly. Like a baby who lost his mommy.
I didn't look back. Not once.
Ryder was at the top. His face was white. His hands were shaking like leaves in the wind.
"You okay?" he asked.
"No," I said. "But I will be. Maybe. I dunno."
He didn't say nothing else. Just nodded.
"The elders wanna see you," he said. "Tomorrow. At dawn."
I laughed. It sounded mean. I didn't care.
"The elders?"
"They're scared. Damian was their dog. Their pet. Their puppet. Without him, they got nothing. No power. No control. Nothing."
"Tell them I'll be there. And tell them to bring wine. Good wine. Expensive wine. I'm not leaving till I hear everything. Every secret. Every lie. Every name."
Ryder nodded. Turned to leave. Then stopped.
"Lila?"
"What?"
"I'm glad you're alive. For real. I'm glad."
I looked at him. Really looked. He was the only one. The only one who never laughed at me. Never threw a stone at my head. Never looked away when I was bleeding on the floor.
"Yeah," I said. "Me too. I guess."
He left.
I walked to the throne. Sat down. The hall was empty. The torches were low. Tomorrow, the elders. Tomorrow, the lies. Tomorrow, the real fight.
But tonight?
Tonight I just sat there. Alone. In the dark. Thinking about nothing. And everything. And her. My mom. Her face. Her voice. Her blood on the snow.
I didn't cry. But I wanted to.
- Writer
