Mysterious

Preface

Too much hiding.

Too much fighting.

So much working. Waiting. Hoping. Striving to survive.

All those things resulted in... nothing.

The word echoed in Rio's mind, gathering momentum.

Bouncing off the walls of her mind.

It... Made her gag. Want to cry. To scream.

It gave her nightmares.

But...

The only other option was to give up. And there was no way she would ever do that.

Plus, Asurlina would never let her. Her strength was to help her friends, and she was great at that because she was an Empath.

And empaths always knew.

Always knew...

But...

She didn't know if she had the strength to carry on. She was weakening, her mind tiring. Her concentration was waning.

A gruff voice told her that she should stop resisting, that she was going to wear herself out before they could torture her further. It told her that they were extremely disappointed in her, how she kept acting.

She didn't care.

The voice was the voice of Evil, she could feel it.

She squirmed on the hard metal table, of which her enemies had chained her up with sharp metal cuffs and chains.

She stopped, exhausted, wincing at the pain of the chains and spikes digging into her skin. She could smell her blood, the metallic, rusty smell. She could feel it dripping down her arms, drip, drip, drip, as though it was keeping time for her. Her many wounds danced to the rhythm of her fast-beating heart. She spat hoping to expel the gag that was stuffed into her mouth. She thrashed, making pathetic noises that were supposed to be screams, had the gag not restricted her. She tried in vain to listen to the conversation around her, but she only found sinister whispers.

Rough, disgusting smelling, calloused, and dirty hands wrapped around her throat, choking her.

Killing her as she struggled.

She was afraid, a small girl, tired, defenseless, and weak. She didn't know how to carry on, how to pull herself through the pain, the ignorance. Fear grew, like a mold in her, killing off all optimism that had resided there.

She knew that she deserved it, she had been asking for it. She now knew not to stick her nose into other people's business, no matter how much it intrigued her.

Now that the facts were clear, hopelessness rushed about her body, a fierce wave in a stormy ocean.

But a strong breeze, like a breeze of energy, ebbed the tiredness away.

Steady, it told her.

Calm.

You can do this.

Patience.

Peace.

The breeze seemed to give her strength.

It was a relief, not feeling so weak, but it alerted her, told her about the acute, sharp pain in her chest, her lungs begging her to draw a breath.

But the man's vile hands remained on Rio's neck, and she could not answer her lungs' desperate pleas. Nor could she answer the breeze's instructions, even though she wanted to very badly. Her body didn't have the strength to outlast the pain, even with the added help of the breeze. Her mind was weakening, sound fading in and out, dizzy swirls of color surrounding her.

Darkness came.

Sweeping, swooping, ready to overtake her. She fought as hard as she could.

But not hard enough.

She had just enough energy to transmit to Asurlina, "find me in room thirty-nine. They're going to Wash my memories. Help me, please! And DON'T GIVE UP."