The Seventh Crow

Part 3

The soldiers brought me a bucket of water. I drank most of it then washed my hair with what was left. I could only hope that they bring another the night before the festivities. One wash isn't going to make everything go away.

Keys jingle in the lock again. The King couldn't possibly want me again. He said he is busy, that there wasn't any time for pleasure. But plans can change, he can get out of his duties whenever he wants. He is the King.

The door screeches open. The same blond haired soldier walks into the room, forcing me to my feet.

"What's happening?" I ask.

"A job," he snapped.

It felt like he was rushing me along. One minute I was being yanked off the floor then the next I was standing by Dem's cell. The blond soldier took out his keys to unlock the door. He retreats inside, chains in hand. Where's my chains? Did he only have time to grab one pair and decided that it would go to Dem?

"Hurry," he said pushing her into the hallway. She must've tripped on something because she fell forwards into my shoulder. I helped her regain her footing before we were being pulled down the hallway.

"What's happening?" she whispers to me.

"Blond dude said we had a job," I responded.

We turn down a hallway. The hallway that they use for torture and interrogations. I've been down this hall more times then I care, more times then I remember.

"Did they-" Dem starts but trails off as the soldier brings us to a stop.

The hallway was really dark. It's one of their tactics. The darkness will eat away the person's consciousness. Make it easier for the soldiers to get information out of the prisoners.

A painful scream echoes through the hallway. Dem jumps besides me which makes me jump. You would think she would be used to the pain and screams by now. But she is Grisha, who knows what they do to her versus me.

Alev emerges from the blackness. I look between him and the blond guy. What is he doing here? He never is in this block. He does runs for Drüskelle or transport prisoners to and from their cells.

"These the ones?" he asks the blond.

"They are the only ones who are put together enough," the blond states.

"Follow me." Alev turns and walks deeper into the darkness. Dem and I hesitate. "Now!"

We struggle to keep up, not knowing where we are going. If they actually took the opportunity to put in lights, maybe we would be on Alev's heels.

He randomly stops making me bump into him. I wait for his reaction. There's another guard around here and he can't play that off like we didn't just run into each other.

"Watch it!" he snapped. "These prisoners are annoying."

"Tell me about it. Should've killed them off sooner," the blond states.

Alev steps forward and unlocks a door. Light floods into the hallway and in the middle of the white walled room a man lays in a pool of blood.

At the same time, Dem and I start to back away. I'm not cleaning up blood again, I'm not going to do it. The idea of touching blood makes my head spin. The red stain on my hands that won't go away no matter how hard I scrub. The smell of rotting flesh never leaving my nose for months after. Closing my eyes and I'm back there. Rag in hand, scrubbing the blood from the white floor.

"Where are you going?" Alev asks with a sinister smile. "You have a job to do."

He grabs my arm and pulls me into the room. Dem follows in behind. The blond haired soldier setting down a bucket of water and two rags.

"You have an hour," Alev says. "If you're not done by then, well, just be done within the hour."

The two soldiers laughed and walked back to the door. Alev and I make eye contact before the door full shuts behind them.

I'm so sorry, he mouthed.

I stared at the closed door, hoping that at any moment Alev would come back and open the door. Run up to me and apologize for sticking me in this situation, again. But he didn't come. The door stayed tightly closed.

"Nox?" Dem asks. I turn to her. Her expression worried. Either for me or the dead body we are stuck in here with, I'm not sure.

"We have work to do."

I pass Dem and reach for one of the rags. We have an hour. I'm not about to waste that hour waiting for someone who is just doing their job. It's just a body and blood. Nothing too bad. I can deal with it.

Dumping the rag in the water, I walk over to the pool of blood. My heart seems to speed up but I ignore it. I've done this hundreds of times, one more isn't going to kill me.

Kneeling down, I press the rag to the edge of the blood. Some blood gets soaked up by the rag. The water dilutes the blood to make it more easy to clean.

The rag slips from my hand, making me touch the blood. Sickness and dizziness overcome me. I lift my hand up. A long string of sticky blood stays on my palm. Looking down, I noticed I touched a blood clot.

"I can't breathe," I whisper, staring at the blood clot.

"What was that?" Dem asked.

"I can't breathe. I can't be in here. I need to get out." I walk over to the door. Banging hard, trying to get any soldiers attention.

"Nox," Dem says, putting a hand on my shoulder. I flinch from the touch, making her pull her hand away.

"Close your eyes," she whispers. "I'll clean everything up. You'll be alright."

I nod. I can help, I just need a moment. Get my thoughts under control. Get my breathing under control. It'll pass. It always passes.

I slide down the wall until I'm in a sitting position. I lean my head back, taking in a couple breaths. It doesn't fully work. All I smell is the body, which makes the sickness worse. I close my eyes, hoping that it could help a little tiny bit and it does. At least for a little while.