T.W - dark gore.
"What the hell is wrong with you, you sicko! Get me out of here."
I try to wriggle out through the ropes but it just tightens around my wrist harder. Which, added to the anti-magic bracelet on my wrist, hurts more than I thought.
"Just tell me where the fucking vault is and I'll let you go."
"I don't even know what you're talking about, crazy!"
He bends closer to my face and moves a strand of my hair behind my hair.
If looks could kill, he'd be dead on the floor.
"I'll get it out of you one way or the other, love."
I need to get out of here.
He walks out of the room, slamming the door shut.
I am pretty sure Lucas is already searching for me back home. But how the hell will he know where I am?
I need to get out on my own.
How much could the bracelets possibly hurt?
Not more than I can take, I am sure.
Ok.
I got this.
All I need to do is make that dick head think that the place is on fire. He still needs me. He'll get me out of here. If he doesn't...well, I'll just have to take that risk.
Then, I need to get the hell out of here. He has a car. I need to find it.
Alright.
Focus, Esmeray. You got this.
"Hey creepo! Come here!" I yell.
It takes him a minute and a lot of muttered profanities to actually come inside my room.
"What is it?" He asks, clearly irritated.
"A bug."
Muttering something about spoiled princesses, he falls right into my trap.
"Where?"
"At the back of my chair."
I just need him to look into my eyes for a second.
Come on, come on, come on.
He bends down to check the back of my chair and I get what I need.
Under different conditions, I'd probably think he has nice eyes.
"There's nothing," He scoffs and gets out the door.
I close my eyes and picture fire. This room, the door, the whole place.
At first, the bracelet doesn't hurt much. Just a tingling sensation like an injection being seeped into my skin.
But then, blinding pain shoots up my arms and I have to bite my lip hard enough till it bleeds, just so that I don't scream.
A sob erupts out of my throat as the pain increases.
I can feel my forearms bleeding. The rope that ties my wrists to the chair feels moist with blood.
My head feels dizzy but I can't stop.
Fire. Fire. Fire. Think of fire.
Don't think about the pain. Pain hurts only when you let it. My "father's" advice.
The guy storms in, dodging invisible flames and opens the ropes as quickly as possible.
He doesn't seem to notice the purple and blue wounds on my arms.
YOU ARE READING
The Queen Of Eternity
FantasyUNDER HEAVY EDITING Love. That's a strong word. It breaks you into a million pieces yet somehow manages to put you back together. Power. Self explanatory, isn't it? Who doesn't want power? But power makes you do things that seem psychopathic until y...
