The Ivory Killer (DISCONTINUED)

-Chapter Fifteen- Aron

Hello! I have a pretty busy day tomorrow, so you guys get an early update. Enjoy!

I didn't pay much attention on the walk. Before, I tried to trace my steps and remember all of the turns I took. Now, I had accepted the fact that escape was the least likely outcome. They kept changing my rooms and took a complicated path each time. There was no way that I was going to find an efficient way to break out of the place. Every corridor looked the same, minus a few details on tapestries or a dwindling torch. Some halls had windows, some halls didn't, but it didn't matter to me.

What did matter to me was one hall that I knew very, very well. Flickering torches punctuated the breaks between thick wooden doors. At the end of the hallway was a single, dirty glass-paned window. I saw the woman's door and I flinched when it opened. My heart sped up and I swore I was trapped in a nightmare again. Any second now, they would carry her body out of the door and I would watch as they took her away. Then, it was my turn.

The woman was not removed from the room. Instead, a guard held the door open while the two soldiers herded me inside. My eyes flickered to corners, searching for blood or a body. It was like she had never been there. The floor, though it wasn't scrubbed clean, lacked any sign that someone had died there. The rest of the room looked like mine. There was a barred window and stone surroundings. In the middle sat a chair, just like before. They pushed me towards the chair near the window and I sat. I didn't want to fight it.

"Wait here and don't move," one of the soldiers said and they both moved for the door. There was no further clarification on the matter before they left and the ever familiar clunk of the lock sounded outside the door.

It wasn't like there was anything I could do to leave, and I didn't want to move. Well, I wanted to move, but I didn't want to ignore their orders. I hated myself for it, but I didn't want to disobey them. It wasn't like I had much pride to begin with. Everything had gone downhill since the collection. If becoming an obedient dog was what it took to prevent another round of the Ivory Killer, so be it.

I rolled the name around in my head; the Ivory Killer. It was such an odd name for a...potion? Drink? I didn't even know what it was. It could have been poison for all I knew, but I had ended up with...freeze-powers in the end. No poison does that. The ivory part was obvious. The potion was the exact color of ivory; creamy off-white. The killer part wasn't as clear as the first. It certainly felt like being killed, but I had lived through it. The woman hadn't. Had it killed more people than her before? How did one of its main characteristics become "killer"?

I almost laughed at my luck. The last four months had been terrible. My mother had passed away, I lost the stand, I lost the house, and I searched for money on the ground. There wasn't a job in sight, then I got snatched up off the street and force-fed a potion that leaves me with a mess of magic abilities. And I lived! I lived through it. I felt triumphant in some way, but a part of me reminded me of how many more negatives there were compared to the positives.

My ears perked up when I heard the faint sound of talking grow louder. A question was asked and was answered with a quick response, both equally muffled by the thick barrier of the door. I stiffened. They were bringing someone else in. I could tell by the tones of voice. The one that had questioned was confident and a bit flowery, nothing at all like either of the guards. The one that had responded was fast and clipped, exactly like all Otanian soldiers were certainly trained to reply.

The door clanked and slowly scraped open. I inhaled a sharp breath. A guard had pushed open the door and proceeded to hold it open as two other figures entered. One of them was the second soldier, but the next was unrecognizable.