"It's Team Free Will 2.0. With two salty hunters, one half-angel kid, a dude that just came back from the dead again and the special addition; a tinker-"
"What? No buzzer this time?"
"Uhu, buzzer sounds unmelodious. You don't."
"So you've finally...
"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before."
– Edgar Allan Poe
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A small chill nipped at my bare heels pulling me out of the slumber I had previously fallen into. I slowly opened my eyes feeling momentarily perplexed and battling with fatigue that settled leisurely on my lids. Soft sunlight already brightened the room coming through the partially pulled curtains and I jolted awake finally recalling the bitter truth of my surroundings. I sat up in alarm, the quilt was still draped over me but it did nothing to smoothen the chill and the loneliness I felt deep inside my bones.
Thirty days.
It had been thirty days since that man who introduced himself as my "Grandfather" locked me inside this nicely decorated prison. My empty gaze momentarily shifted around the room, from the marble floor to the fancy ceiling, exotic leather bed to the sprawling terrace, expensive clothes to a good portion of matching accessories— at every turn, I was confronted with more examples of his wealth. Even the lack of phone, computer, or television couldn't dim the lavishness of this place by a bit.
Though in reality, it was no better than a nightmare and a very bad one at that.
A heavy sigh escaped my lips as I got out of the bed and walked towards the windows. The sky actually had a perfect shade of blue this morning, cotton-like clouds were floating around smoothly occasionally giving a glimpse of the yellow sun hiding behind them. There was a peaceful sensation in the air, yet only agitation reined in my emotions.
I was pulled from my thoughts when there was a slight knock on the door. The servants must have dropped the breakfast outside the door knowing full well I wouldn't touch a single grain. Yes, it was the only thing I could think of as a rebellious act against Aillard Everhart.
Still, the act of my open resistance had its limit, I could feel myself getting weaker, losing strength every day but it was my last attempt to call him out; the old man whom I hadn't seen nearly a month, who gave me a very bad vibe upon the first meeting. I didn't mean to torture myself just to get a hold of him but I had no choice left as it didn't matter how much I demanded to meet him or talk to him, his minions never paid attention to my words. Sure they didn't dare to lay a finger on me but even their ignorance had taken its toll.
Well soon they won't have much choice left since the lack of food is draining both my energy and life.And surely I won't be much useful to Mr. Everhart being a damaged or worse— a dead girl.
As if on cue, the vision in front of me swayed and I rested my head against the cold materials of the window. It felt nice for a second; a second long enough to lay my eyes back onto the beautiful landscape outstretched in front of me. Being on the third floor, surrounded by acres and acres of woods and unused farmland, I had my fair share of view to look at. A view I couldn't even enjoy without some kind of magical binding in-between because no matter how much I'd tried, the windows wouldn't open, and I couldn't set a foot outside this room, not even on the beautiful terrace.