Chapter 35

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"If you ever feel weak or inadequate, always remember that you're here, still, fighting and surviving and winning. You're running still. That's what matters."

🖤🖤🖤

It was pitch dark and I couldn't see anything. The cell was gloomy and damp, and my dress was wet with fresh blood. A slight ray of light was trickling from a window set high up in the wall. I struggled to stand up, but there were heavy iron chains attached to both my legs. I tugged at the shackles in vain.

There was a scurrying noise. "Who's there?" my voice shook. The scurrying turned to squeaks. I looked around my dark cage. Little yellow eyes lit up at the corners. Those eyes gleamed with a predatory instinct. I tried to scream, but no sound came from my throat. I closed my eyes shut in fear.

The squeaking grew louder. I felt something warm and squiggly climb on my back. I opened my eyes slightly and there they were, jumping around me, chewing at my dress...RATS!

Hundreds of them all over the floor, their eyes glowing and their teeth rattling. How much time before they would shred my gown and start feasting on my skin?

I tried to shout for help, but my voice wasn't there still. I was choking on my own tears. A sea of guards in cloaks were suddenly on me and then I was being thrown into an open fire and I was burning, burning alive.

And I screamed...screamed my lungs out. It was an all-consuming sound of utter pain. I didn't recognize my own voice.

"Tora," a gruff male voice whispered in my ear. My ears were ringing, the fire was eating away at me. The pain was excruciating.

"Tora," the voice whispered again. I scrunched my eyes shut.

"It's okay. You're okay. I'm here..."

The voice was calm and warm, almost familiar. I forced my eyes open. A pair of glimmering black eyes were looking at me. There was fear and concern playing in those serene orbs.

"Am I dreaming?" My tongue felt like rough sandpaper.

"You were having a bad dream. You're drenched in sweat," Mrithun said, his hands wiping the perspiration off my forehead, before lingering for a moment on the side of my cheeks.

"You're real right?" I touched his cheek lightly, feeling the stubble rub against my palm. He seemed solid. This was happening. I was in the arms of Death and he had kissed me last night.

I felt something cold on my back. I uttered a small cry, shivering involuntarily.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot to regulate my skin temperature." He grinned nervously.

"Wait what?"

The encircling arms were warm and cosy again. He drew me closer.

"When did you learn that?" I asked.

"Since I fell in love with a human." He winked.

"But that's not who you are. You have to put lots of effort to not let your guard down. This is not right. It'll be something always on the back of your mind," I whined, my fingers tracing the outline of his now icy lips.

It felt good to have a single morning of bliss amidst all the chaos, a morning of waking up to love, real love, not compromise.

"You hugged this frozen cold form in its wildest state and kissed me, knowing very well, I could have carved out your soul then and there." He pulled me up with one arm, giving a quick peck on my lips.

"That was an emergency," I whispered, the flashback running like an old horror film reel at the back of my mind.

"This is an emergency too," he laughed. "I shouldn't freeze you to death in your sleep."

Chasing DeathOnde as histórias ganham vida. Descobre agora