Chapter Eighteen

413 12 0
                                    

"Tell me what you want."

Valda was shivering on the cot in the dark. Three men lay on the ground before her, unconscious. She didn't remember them. All the faces in her memory blurred together but she understood their intentions well enough.

"What do you want?"

Valda looked around. The voice seemed to come from everywhere and no where at once. Was she hearing things? There was no one here.

"Focus, Valda. What do you want?"

"I-I don't know." She said the words aloud into the silence.

"Yes, you do. Tell me what you want."

Valda looked around her and then at the unconscious men on the floor. Fear filled her. "I want to leave."

"What else?"

"I want to never come back. I want to never be hurt again." Her voice trembled.

"Use your fear, Valda. Let it guide you."

She sucked in a shuddering breath. The men on the floor weren't moving. She could get up and leave, walk right out the door and never return. But... they would still be here. They would still wake up breathing. And they would do it again, not to her, but to another girl. All at once, her anger shot up her throat, so sudden she gasped.

"Good, good, feel you anger. Embrace your rage. Tell me what do you want?"

"I want... I want to kill them."

"Then do it."

Valda looked down and saw the knife gripped in her hand. The blade was ancient and carved with figures she did not understand. Valda rose on trembling legs. She was afraid but her rage was a fire burning in her gut, a thrashing living beast.

"Make them pay, Valda."

And she did. Until the floor and the walls were dripping red. Until her skin was coated with blood. Until her hair was saturated with it. Blood dripped from the blade, splattering on her bare legs, her feet. She tasted it in her mouth.

The door to the room hissed open and a man stood in the doorway. His black robes spilled around him, blending into the night. He extended a hand. "Come with me, Valda, and you will never be powerless again."

Valda didn't hesitate as she slipped her bloody palm into his and walked out the door.

The Art of Chaos and DarknessWhere stories live. Discover now