The Sprinter

Chapter 6

Eloise opened her eyes, her head throbbing. Thank the Eternals the room wasn't as brightly lit as her cell had been. She sat up, her skull pounding with it’s many injuries. Gingerly, she brought her fingers up, and gently brushed her scalp. There was no swelling. That wasn’t right. She had been hit so many times, her head should still be swollen in a good number of places. She patted it again, harder, but it was smooth. It couldn’t have healed that fast. She frowned. How long had she been asleep?

She looked up, taking in her surroundings properly for the first time. Everything was made of grey stone apart from the furniture, but there wasn't much of that. The floor was blanketed in a thick, red carpet, with wavy lines of gold thread, intertwining with a sense of importance, forming some unfathomable pattern. The room was warm, and felt cozy, in a stark contrast to the harsh lights and white walls of her prison cell.

Eloise slid off the bed. Her clothes were draped across a chair, on the other side of the room. She went over to them. They were clean. Someone had undressed her and washed her clothes for her. She suppressed a shiver. She wasn’t sure if she was angry or grateful, but she was definitely unnerved. And curious.

She slipped on her clothes, noticing the lack of loose threads and moth holes that usually decorated them. Someone had fixed them. Either someone had decided they cared a lot about her, or they wanted something from her. Usually it was the latter. But that was stupid. She had nothing to give.

Eloise tugged the door. It opened. That was good. At least she wasn’t a prisoner. She stepped out into the hallway. It looked very like her room; walls made of stone, little to no furniture, and that same red carpet, it’s lush threads tickling her bare feet. The only difference was it’s length, and it’s width. A few doors were dotted around the side, no doubt leading to the rooms of the other inhabitants - her captors. At the end, stood a large, dark oak door. It lay just a fraction open, leaving room for a fragment of light to shine through, bathing the hall in a dull, yellow glow. She could hear whispers of conversation from within, though she couldn’t tell what it was about. Or who the speakers were.

She strode forward, trying to muster some sense of confidence. For some reason, she felt she should be quiet. She was nervous. Why was she nervous? She had no reason to be nervous. Nerves were useless, just like many other emotions. Who were these people that she should be nervous of them? She didn’t even know them, why was she nervous? She had met strange people before. This was no different. She shouldn’t be nervous, there was no reason to be nervous. Then why-

The door loomed in front of her. She could have walked right into it. She took a step back, readying herself. She had no idea who - or what - was behind it. It scared her. More than she would like to admit. But that didn’t matter. She had to go in, may as well do it now rather than stand like a sheep at the door.

Eloise took a deep breath and pushed. The door creaked open.

As soon as she saw that room, she knew she would remember it for the rest of her life. It wasn’t richly decorated, no big glass chandeliers, and tapestries and such, but that didn’t undermine the grandeur of it at all. The brick walls were new, though considerably chapped in one area. Further in, the room was dominated by one big table, carpeted in maps and pins, and in front of it, two sofas, facing each other. The lighting was dim, and a thick rug covered the area of floor in front of the sofa. It was a similar style to that of the carpet. Despite this, it wasn't a particularly large room. It was a place to hide out in, to lay low. However, it wasn’t just the place that struck her, but the people.

There were three other people in the room, excluding herself. Two were female, and there was one other man. As she entered, they all looked up.

She recognised one - the assassin. She was sitting at the table, next to the man. Her faded hair was tied back, and the gaunt lines of her jaw stood out in the low light. Although she was looking at her, Eloise could tell that her mind lay with the male beside her, and how he would react to the young girl’s appearance.