Dwell into Madness Chapt. 16

~~~ Chapter 16 ~~~

Awakening

A throbbing pain in the back of my head wouldn’t go away, no matter how much I willed it to do so. However, that wasn’t my biggest concern. My shoulder and thigh were on fire. From what I could gather – what with my brain still a bit scattered and foggy – the bullet wounds had at least been wrapped, but that’s all I could tell on that topic.

My eyes fluttered open, just a crack, to see my legs tied together at the ankles with vines. I shifted my hands that were behind my back, also tied with the foliage by my wrists. Subconsciously, I slowly twitched all my fingers and toes individually; they were all still there. I tilted my head this way and that; my neck seemed to feel fine but the headache didn’t subside. I flexed the muscles in my body; besides my bullet wounds, everything felt fine.

I took deep breaths and kept my head down, acting as if I was still unconscious. I widened my eyes a fraction to try to see where I was, or to at least get an idea. The room was dark and in front of me a computer monitor acted as a light source filling the room with a blue light. I was sitting on the ground with my back against what felt like a metal pole. The cold material poked at my back making it uncomfortable to lean against, but I wasn’t here for comfort, I suppose.  

With a keen ear, I listened for any other being in the room, but heard none. I opened my eyes fully and brought up my head slowly. I fully took in the room with a turn of my head from left to right. The area was quite dark but I could still make out a few details such as all the clutter in the room. Boxes upon boxes were stacked on each other with papers, wires, and other miscellaneous items spilling from its containers. The screen was blank besides its bluish-white hue.

It seemed like I was the only one in the room.

My head didn’t stop pounding in my skull, which started to annoy me. Before I could bash my head against the poll behind me – to ease the pain, of course – I realized that I had no idea what I was doing here, how I got here, or why I was tied up. I remembered getting shot, for it was difficult to forget the throbbing agony. However, that’s all I could recall.

Ignoring the headache, I tried to remember. We were in a warehouse looking for something – no – someone. When we got there . . . we found . . . a person. I remember being upset, but I don’t know the reason. From there, the memories seemed to come back, but slowly. I could recall helping the person. Then . . . then I remember getting shot. But by who again? Someone shot me; it was close range. . . Vincent. Vincent shot me! Although, I don’t know how. All I knew was that I was with Mertell and the next thing . . . Mertell. . . No, it wasn’t Mertell. It was Vincent.

He lied. It was a trick. I felt like slapping myself across the face. How could I let myself believing such a ploy?!

It was pretty pathetic you fell for that, and now yoooooou’re captured!

‘Shut up! How the hell was I supposed to know?! It looked really convincing, anyway!’

Whatever helps you sleep at night, precious! But just know that it wasn’t myyyy fault, so don’t blame me!

I shook my head to rid myself of the odd thoughts, which turned out to be a bad idea. My brain rattled in my skull making the pain intensify. I couldn’t help but let out a groan and clench my jaw and eyes shut. I slowly leaned my head against the metal pole to try to relieve some pain, but to no avail.

With steady breaths, I tried to subdue the ache. After a few moments, I could hear footsteps along with voices outside of the room I was in. To not take any chances, I hung my head and keep my eyes closed until the voices passed. However, they didn’t pass. In fact, the doors opened and the lights flickered on. The two voices didn’t seem to stop as they entered the room. They didn’t pay any attention to me, which – for once – I was fine with.

“I’m really sorry,” one of the voices said. This voice was deep – clearly male – and held a thick southern accent. The tone of the voice really threw me off. I was expecting a raspy, high voice that seeped a more negative vibe. However, this voice was just the opposite. It was concerned, even caring. It took all my will power to not look up and see to just what this voice belonged to.

“Warren, for the millionth time, I told you I’m fine. Besides, I ordered you to do all that crap to me anyway. I would’ve been upset with you if you didn’t go all out,” the other voice said. This one was more cold than the last, but was too male. It held a familiar aloofness that I could relate to.

One of the two began to type on the computer for a moment. The two voices were then significantly quieter, whispering to each other. I couldn’t make it out, but I don’t think it was important. Another moment of silence followed by some clicking on the keyboard surrounded the room. I didn’t know how long I was going to play dead, but I knew I wasn’t going to show my awareness to the two, whoever they were.

The voice with the accent broke the silence with a question. “So, are we really gonna wait a whole day?”

“We have to,” the other voice replied, “If we rushed things, we might end up looking like fools. What if something happens after we send the transmission? Then we would lose the upper hand. Plus, this will be the first time the Slayers will know of our presence. If this is going to be our first appearance, we better make it count.”

My body stiffened at the word of ‘Slayers’. I don’t know who these clowns are, but they seemed to want something with us. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I had some part to play in all of this, that I was their ‘upper hand’. I realize that this is a narcissistic thought, but it wasn’t too farfetched. After all, I am . . . I’m . . .

The puzzle pieces seemed to all fit together, slowly but surely. I couldn’t confirm or deny anything yet. I had to keep listening; maybe one of these idiots would say something important.

 “What, do you think one of them kids is gonna break out and get ‘em?” the accented voice asked.

“Not really. Like I said before, I don’t think any of them are going to be the problem. It’s that one I’m worried about.” The second voice paused. “I mean, he’s the son of Nyx after all. He’s unpredictable. After twenty-four hours and nothing happens, we’ll make the call. But for now, we wait.”

Nyx? What did Mom have to do with this? It might’ve just been a slip of the tongue, but the way the second person said it, it sounded crucial. It sounded important. But for what reason, I have no clue! All these unknowns were starting to agitate me!

Are you getting frustrated? Maybe a little angry, perhaps? Don’t bottle it up, Sunny Boy! Let it out!

I wanted to yell back at the voice, but I couldn’t risk exposing myself. So the voice continued to inwardly harass and convince me.

You said you were starting to get agitated! Well, finish what you started! Get angry! Get MAD! Let it out! LET ME OUT!

I clenched my teeth. My forehead broke out into a sweat, and my body began to shake. I could feel my will bending; twisting and turning out of control like someone was using it as a play thing. My fists clenched behind my back. A sudden wave of anger flooded my brain. I was so furious, at everything and nothing at the same time. I was pissed that I was tied up, that Psylance and the others didn’t help me and allowed me to be captured, that Vincent had shot me and taken me captive, and that my mom didn’t trust me enough to allow me on regular missions.

These thoughts plagued my mind to a point where the only thing I heard was the blood rushing in my ears. My breathing intensified to a faster tempo of uneven breaths. The other two voices were at the back of my mind, not even important anymore.

In attempt to calm myself, I opened my eyes but almost had to close them once again. I wasn’t quite use to the brightness. I raised my head the tiniest bit – some of my survival skills were shot out the back window, but enough remained for me to not fully uncover myself. Two figures were directly in front of me conversing. As I raised my head, the room seemed to spin so the images of the two were a bit blurry.

My eyes widened when I saw them. Both figures were familiar, painfully so. Both were male and facing each other. The two still seemed to be talking; they didn’t even notice I was staring at them.

The taller of the two looked like a normal young man, although he sported deep blue hair and pointed ears. A mark also gave its true identity away. A crescent moon that was lighter than its skin tone covered its right eye – an eye in which was discolored. A scar appeared under the mark and snaked its way down its neck and behind its back. Its messy blue hair covered the discolored and normal brown eyes. The thing was not only taller but also looked physically stronger. All these things were familiar to me already, for this was the same demon that was beating Mertell.

Then there was the case of the other male. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he looked up to the demon. This guy was much skinnier than the other, to a point where it looked a bit unhealthy. Blond hair draped in front of his tired, blue eyes. However, his hair was a bit odd. The tips of the strands were brown instead of the normal blond. This threw me off a bit, but I knew who it really was. From the moment my eyes gazed that figure, my temper rose. There was no mistaking it. That was Vincent, standing right there.

I could take him out. I could kill him right there and then. I should. I will!

I clenched my eyes shut. Those weren’t my thoughts! I bit my tongue to try to control myself. All these emotions were coming out of nowhere and would help no one. I needed to stay in control; I’ve always been in control!

Not anymore.

My eyes snapped open and my voice let out a scream. It felt like someone was taking sewing needles and dragging them down my body. They pierced themselves down to my bones and traveled across my body in a random pattern. My voice was being ripped apart with my yelling. I clenched my eyes shut, for this new pain was just too much.

It was only when I heard crashes and gasps of shock did I open my eyes again. The scene confused me. Black tendrils thrashed all around the room, destroying and swatting everything away. Some strands even crashed through the walls and ceiling as if trying to escape. It took me a moment, but I realized that everything was being pushed away from me. It was almost as if I was at the center of this mayhem.

A voice yelped as one of the whips slammed into them and crashed onto a wooden crate, shattering it.

“Vincent!” the demon yelled.

My head darted towards the fallen body, and there Vincent was: on his back, rubbing his head, looking dazed. The demon rushed over to him, tried to help him. The tendrils didn’t seem to like that for they grabbed the demon by the waist and flung it across the other end of the room. It slammed onto the opposite wall and fell to the ground, down but not out.

The room began to shake; it was starting to collapse. I was worried but only for a bit before my skin started to burn. I threw my head back in a yell and squirmed in my restraints. My whole body felt like it was on fire. The urge to rip my skin off was more than bending my will, it was breaking it.

With another gut wrenching scream, the building began to collapse around me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the demon grab Vincent and pull him into the ground, out of harm’s way. The thought of Vincent getting away, not suffering, infuriated me.

With that final thought, the room collapsed around me and the world went black once again.