The Trials of the Jinx

The Queen

A strange hymn buzzes through the room, the world slows down around the men, and for a brief moment, there is nothing but their hearts beating to a slow rhythm. Then bodies rise out of chairs.

“Speak, boy, speak!” shouts Erik. Sandor is by his warrior’s side in an instant, as if he can somehow hear the message first, mull it over first, react to it first.

“She had food delivered to her apartment, and the man noticed she looked a little pale, so he contacted Luna Ayla, then left to continue his deliveries. When Luna got there Kel was nowhere in sight, and her apartment was left in disarray.”

The warrior has barely gotten the last word in when Sandor flies through the door.

“Secure every border! No one gets in or out,” he bellows over his shoulder, and his beta is quick to reach his warriors through the packs' communication links but follows his alpha to get a better idea of the situation at hand. The other men file out after them, sending orders along with their links as they go. Their warriors disperse to aid in the blockade.

Kel’s apartment is quite a while away, but the alphas and betas reach it at breakneck speed. Only Erik, Sandor and Jeremy go in. The rest try to find any indication of where the intruder went. The flat is in complete chaos; furniture is overturned, vases broken, chords ripped from outlets. And yet, with all of the chaos and destruction, the only scent that lingered is that of Kel. Sandor is a ghost, roaming around in an endless sea of nothingness. His brain struggles to catch up with the events unfolding before him, and his heart hasn’t even noticed the loss.

Erik lingers in the doorway, his mouth opening and closing, trying to form some sort of comfort for his old friend. Try as he might, there is nothing to be said. There is not a combination of words that can properly form a sentence that will make this situation any better. He knows the others will have a bombardment of questions that Sandor can’t answer. None of them can grasp the ferocity of losing a pup a man will experience, except for him. But at least he has answers and could put a body to rest and have a place to mourn.

The fact is no one knows where to start looking, and no one knows how long she has.

***

Everything is spinning, like a carnival ride turning, moving up and down, left and right, with no indication of it stopping. Darkness is wrapped over her vision, making it impossible to focus on one spot to stop the everlasting spinning. A hymn ripples through her ears. Focus, Kel. Focus. But on what? Every sense is lying to her body, confusing her. Body. What is your body telling you? Smooth cold stone against her bare feet and underneath her but. Rough, jagged stone against her back and head. She wiggles her feet and hands, no resistance. She isn't bound. Her hands glide over her face. She isn't blindfolded. It's just darkness.

Breathe, she reminds herself.

She guides the cold air through her nostrils, deep into her lungs, then she lets the warm air escape through her mouth.

She slides down, letting the smooth stone ground her body. Slowly the dizziness subsides, and she is able to focus. A small glow creeps underneath the door. It isn’t much, but she can use it to help her see her surroundings. The room looks more like a cave with rocky walls and a ceiling. There is no furniture, no lights hanging from the ceiling, or attached to the wall. It is just her.

She crawls over to the door, her body still weak from the sudden adrenaline rush. There is no handle on the inside of the door, and when she pushes against it, it doesn't budge.

Her mind urges her to scream for help, but a part of her knows it is pointless. If she were somewhere amongst others, whoever took her would’ve gagged her. No, she is somewhere secluded.

The door rattles. Kel slides against the wall next to the door, waiting. The door swings open, and all she can see is a shadow stretched across the floor. The second the stranger steps across the threshold, she swings her fist, but the stranger grabs her wrist with ease. She is pinned to the wall, the stranger’s warm breath tickling her neck.

“What do you want?” She asks, failing to mask the trembling in her voice. The stranger doesn’t reply.

“Say something.”

The silence stretches on between them, adding to the timorous air. Kel can feel the stranger deliberating on their words as they suck in breath in random intervals but then lets out a huff of air as they decide against speaking yet again.

“What?” she asks, throwing as much venom into the word as she can. The stranger may not have liked her response, since in the next moment he was pushing her through the door and down the hallway. It looks similar to the room she came from, with stone walls, ceiling and floors; the only difference is the blazing lights lining the walls. She struggles to keep up, her eyes still trying to adjust to the bright orange glow. At some point, they ascend a bunch of stairs that do little to help her sloppy footwork. The stranger finally stops in a large room and shuts the door behind them. They move over to the centre of the room, where her hands are bound to chains hanging from the ceiling. She spins around, finally able to see in the light. The person that has been pushing her around was a man. His pale skin glistened underneath the harsh lights. His hair, a black stream flows down to his shoulders.

After what happened the last time she opened her mouth, she decides to stay quiet and let him talk. But he doesn’t. He just folds his arms across his chest and stares at her.

What does he want?

“I hope he didn’t scare you too badly,” a feminine voice beams from behind her. Kel turns her head to see who it is but keeps her body facing the most likely threat.

“He takes a while to warm up to strangers, so I wouldn’t try anything with him just yet.”

The sylphlike woman that spoke, sent shivers down Kel’s spine. Her crimson eyes bore into Kel’s with fierce intensity.

“Not a very talkative one either, I see. That’s good because all I need from you is to listen and obey.”

Obey. That does not sit well with her. It suggests a long term objective with little chance of it being an exuberant experience for her.

“Let’s get introductions out of the way.” Her long black dress sweeps across the floor as she moves closer to Kel.

“I am Lyssa, or as I am better known; the queen of darkness. That,” she says pointing to the man, “is my son, Hell.”

“I’ve never heard of either of you,” Kel points out. A dark cloud washes over Lyssa’s face. She takes quick long strides over to Kel, then wraps her bony fingers around her neck. Her grip is much more potent than her body suggests.

“I know,” she says through grit teeth. “But you will. Everyone will.”

The temperature in the air plummets. The woman before Kel is dangerous and whatever she has planned is not limited to her. Her mind runs as realization sinks in.

“You took them,” Kel whispers, still struggling to get air to her lungs.

Her lips slowly seal shut, replacing her bared teeth with a sly grin. She nods. Lyssa uncurls her fingers and leisurely strokes her black nails over her skin, from her neck to her cheek and back down to her too exposed neck.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get used to how things work around here soon enough.”

Her eyes roam over Kel’s body one last time, then she leaves, her long dress gliding behind her.

Kel lets out a breath she doesn’t even know she was holding, before turning back to Hellion. But he left. She didn’t even hear him leave. An unpleasant feeling fills her stomach and makes her quiver.

***

She is messing with his mind. The redolent scent is like a mist that envelops him every time she is close to him. How she can have such an effect on him is inconceivable. He has trained his whole life to be immune to the effects and charms of mortals, yet with her…

He couldn’t even let his mother finish her whole dramatic introduction. He will hear about it at length later, but for now, he needs to exhaust every muscle in his body. Normally, he will ignore the cries and moans echoing through the halls, but now he needs them. He needs them to fill every corner of his mind. 54 captives. Two humans and one fey died during the early stages of the program. Though, Hell doesn’t have much hope for many of the others either.

He pulls himself up the bar and lowers again at a steady pace, letting his lats and biceps burn on each contraction. Still, his thoughts are interrupted by the porcelain-haired woman. He grew up shielded from others, and the little interaction he did have with others was never pleasant. “We were exiled, shunned from the rest of the world. No one even remembers who we are,” his mother would say. But he never got anything more than that. Everything else his mother kept locked away in her cold heart.

He doesn’t love his mother. He can’t. Hell does not know love. All he knows is an intense loyalty, rooted so deep into his existence that he can’t help but do as she commands. Hell is but a servant to the Queen of darkness.

A flash of pure, light blue crosses his mind. He has seen it every time his mother allows him to return to the surface to snatch another unfortunate soul. But now, he has seen it elsewhere. Her eyes. Such a small portion of her body, and even a smaller portion of the eyes themselves, yet he could see the sky in them.

No.

He can’t think of her in any other manner than a test subject for her majesty's plan. A test subject doomed to fail. Why would she choose a jinx? Weak. Cursed. She has to be around 20 years of age, which means she only has a couple of years left. He can’t see the reason behind her logic, but he doesn't dare ask.

He continues to work his muscles tirelessly in the hopes of exhausting his mind as well. The air begins to cool, giving the illusion of night. Down here night doesn’t exist. Nor does day. It is the same endless spread of darkness, and the only light comes from the core stones. An ochre stone that glows constantly. They are placed throughout the fortress, similarly to lights in the mortal realm.

He lets the coolness flow over his skin, releasing the fire from his muscles. He feels his body slowly start to shut down for sleep and makes his way to his chambers. Hell just hopes that his sleep will go uninterrupted by his ever-present night terrors.