The Dark Lord's Seer

Visions

** TW: The following chapter contains descriptions of physical/mental coercion. DO NOT READ if you are not prepared to encounter such content. **

When I awoke the next morning, I knew immediately that something was terribly wrong. Perhaps it was my subconscious mind screaming out to me. Or perhaps it was the recollection of my conversation with the doe. Either way, I awoke covered in a cold sweat and practically leapt out of bed.

"He won't kill you, but -"

I should have paid closer attention to the hesitancy I heard in the doe -

"He won't kill you, but -"

Why didn't I question that?!

I'd let myself fall into a classic trap: short-sightedness. And now - now -

What have I done?!

The dread I felt rising up within me multiplied tenfold when I tested the door handle and found it unlocked.

Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck!

That right there told me everything I needed to know. It'd never been unlocked. Not since I'd been brought here. No mistaking the message behind that -

He wants me to go see it for myself.

How my feet managed to carry me down that hallway, I've no clue. Because the weight I felt in my heart was indescribable. And yet, I did. I ran as fast as I could. And when I reached the far end of the hall, my heart practically stopped beating. Mylo's door. The door to the room they'd been keeping him in - slightly ajar.

No! No, no, no!

My shaking hand extending forward, I forced myself to peer into the room. And when I saw the empty room, perfectly clean and turned over ...

I knew.

My head felt as though it were in an extraordinarily thick fog as I stumbled into Tom's study. He'd left the door open, naturally. The same way he'd left my door open, and Mylo's door open. There he was, the monster himself: sitting at his desk, sorting through an array of paperwork. I cleared my throat, but he ignored me completely.

He'll drag this out. Pretend as though I'm not here until I force the matter.

My chest felt unbearably tight as a fresh wave of dread rippled through me. And yet, somehow my whisper found its way.

"Did you kill him?" I could barely hear my own words. That's how terrified I was to speak them, let alone receive an answer.

He continued sifting through the piles of parchment before him, as though I were invisible to him.

"Answer me, Tom."

Again, nothing. The sound of papers being shuffled.

My fists clenched, I began to shake now. Reluctant as I was to hear it, I would not stop until I heard the truth.

"Tell me what you did to him, Tom."

He finally looked up from his work, a bored expression on his face, "You already know."

I already know. I already know.

"SAY IT!"

He rolled his eyes, waving his hand dismissively, "Can't you see I'm quite busy?"

That sent me reeling. Any sense of self preservation completely gone, I stalked over to him, circling around his desk. Grabbing onto his shoulder, I shook him as forcefully as I could, "You will say it directly, right now!"