Psychopathy

Chapter 31- Shakespearean

Trigger Warning: This chapter gets a bit gory. Viewer discretion is advised.

Everything was starting to come back to Isabel. Who she was, what she was fighting for, and most importantly, her friends. How could she have forgotten? Maybe all she needed was a little time away, an opportunity to rest and recharge. When she came back to her senses, she started to float in a direction she hoped was up. It felt like up, but with no way to pinpoint direction, she could have been facing down and was descending further for all she knew.

At first, the ascent was slow, but as she continued to go up, she began to move faster. Faster and faster until she was practically skyrocketing toward the surface. And she knew now that was where she was heading. She could hear the waves churning above her. She wasn't sure she was ready to go back to the surface, back to hell. Floating in the void, blissfully numb, was far better than what awaited her on the surface.

But the lake spoke to her again. It wasn't a voice like before, but rather, she seemed to hear it from inside her own mind. It told her she was strong enough now. She'd just needed a moment to rest and think. She'd needed a moment to think about what was really important in her life. In the meantime, the lake had taken measures to ensure her return would be safe.

Finally, Isabel broke the surface and took her first breath in ages. How long had she been down there? Before she could get her bearings straight, the water pulled her under again, sending her moving toward she-didn't-know-what. The bottom of the lake came up to meet her and as the water tumbled her about, she realized she was heading towards the shore.

Eventually, she was deposited on the shore, still halfway in the water. She slowly dragged herself up the shore, coughing out water and gasping for breath. She looked up at the sky, which was the same red as she remembered it. But there were rolling storm clouds in the distance, just over where Isabel remembered the thrones to be. Thunder was rumbling and lightning illuminated the center of the cloud, and Isabel could feel the static crackling in the air.

It seemed she had been deposited back on the shore right in the middle of the devil's rage. The lake had said she was strong enough now. But looking at the ever-growing storm cloud, was she strong enough to not get swept away?

************

Ciara blinked, trying to understand what was happening. One second, she had been enveloped by a blinding light. And the next she had been back in that place with no idea what had happened. How long had she been gone? What had happened while she was lost inside her own mind? What situation had she been dumped in? She looked around, trying to assess the danger as quickly as she could. Everything was silent. The Demon was looking at her with an eyebrow raised, sitting behind the computer. So the livestream was on?

She tried to assess how long she'd been asleep, but her internal clock had nothing to give her. When she had gone to sleep, it felt like the middle of spring, probably sometime in May. But now? She had no clue. It could have been three months, or six, or maybe even a year for all she knew. It seemed that while she was asleep, her internal clock had completely crashed, and she had no clue what time she had woken up in.

"Ciara?" Ciara looked towards the camera, smiling. Reid. The man that had brought her back.

"Reid. Ye remembered," she said, and if she could see him, she was sure he'd have that soft smile on his face that she liked so much. Even now, when she still could barely remember anyone else, she remembered that smile. She remembered him.

"Of course I remembered. For I second I thought..." he drifted off, voice catching in his throat. She didn't need him to finish to know what he meant. "But you said you'd always come back to me."