Oh God, am I paralyzed?
No. I can feel pain. Shit, it’s all I feel. But my leaden body won’t move. Maybe it’s out of complete and utter fear. Or maybe I’m being bound by restraints. I urge myself to crack open an eyelid, fighting through the agony with a clenched jaw. I stifle the whimper building in my throat, resorting to biting the inside of my cheek. Great. More pain.
I try to peer through the tiny slit of my lid for any clue of my location. The room is unlit yet a small stream of dim light floods from a high window. From that, I can see that the dank, stuffy room is barren. Cement floors, bare cinderblock walls, all grey and desolate. It’s depressingly silent except for the annoying sound of a leaky faucet somewhere. Every drop feels like a stab to the temple. I inwardly groan. If I could cry, tears would be streaming down my face. But it hurts too much. It’s all…too much.
I try to swallow but the saliva in my mouth feels too thick. Even my tongue seems swollen. The metallic taste on it makes my stomach roil. If my aching body could withstand the heaving, I would vomit.
“Oh good,” a haunting voice says from somewhere out of my line of vision. “You’re awake.”
I feel my already sluggish blood freeze in my veins, my dry lips parting fractionally in my attempt at a gasp. I know this voice. It’s one that I considered friendly and warm. A voice that was always attached with a smile.
Xavier steps into my line of vision, moving silently in the shadows. He grins adoringly, scanning the length of my body with rapt fascination. When his eyes flick to mine, I nearly choke on a labored breath and my sore eyelids pop open widely.
He’s Light.
Golden irises twinkle brightly in the dim, drab room as he continues to gaze at me with wonder. He doesn’t seem hostile at all. He still looks like the warm, sweet man I always thought he was. And he’s Light. He’s the embodiment of goodness and healing. I just don’t understand.
“Oh, don’t look so surprised, sweetheart,” he says taking a step towards me. “You are one hard little thing to find. I had to kill all those poor, helpless girls yet you were right under my nose the entire time. Ha! Could you really not sense me?”
Again I try to swallow, my eyes darting around frantically. Even the horrific ache dulls in comparison to the concentrated panic binding my body.
“You can speak, darling. I have many questions for you and I need you to be cooperative. Your compliance will be the determining factor in what happens next.”
“What’s that?” I choke out in a raspy, broken voice. The vibrations of my voice rip through my throbbing head, causing tears to spring to my eyes.
Xavier smiles again, tilting his head to one side. “Whether or not I kill you quickly or torture you until your human body eventually gives into an agonizing death.” He takes another step towards me and looks down at the ground. “But judging by the amount of blood you are losing, your death may be quicker than I originally planned. But I think we are still on schedule.”
Blood? I take a deep breath through my nose and let it out through my mouth, tasting the metallic ting in the air. I try to give myself over to my senses and focus on my hearing. The dripping nose magnifies as I concentrate and I inhale again, this time through my mouth. It’s not a leaky faucet. It’s blood. My blood. And judging by the mere second between drops splattering to the ground, I’m losing a lot of it.
“What do you want from me?” I whisper. I can’t even think about the pain it brings. Soon I may not be able to feel pain, or anything else, ever again.
Xavier slowly extends a hand towards me, causing my already weak heartbeat to sputter frantically. “Shhhhh, love,” he coos. He strokes my cheek lovingly then cradles my head, raising it up a few inches. I can’t even fight against it. I still can’t move.
After gazing at me adoringly and causing my tears to spill, he gently eases my head back down on what feels like a concrete slab. When he removes his hand from underneath my head, it’s covered in bright, red blood. He rubs his fingers together, working it into his hand like a balm, before wiping it clean with my shirt. Bile rises in my tight throat.
“Isn’t it obvious what I want? Isn’t it obvious what everybody wants from you?”
Of course I know the answer, but I want to keep him talking until I can figure out what to do. What can I do? I am brutally injured and I am pretty sure he is manipulating my body so I can’t move. But I have to do something. I can’t- I won’t- lay here and die without a fight. I’ve come this far. I’ve fought through heartache, confusion, denial, and fear just to get here. The finish line is in sight. I have to make it. I have to survive.