All that is dark | ✓

1| prisoner

WHEN SHE WOKE UP, her head was so clouded she couldn't think straight. What happened? It was hard to form a coherent thought when it felt like her skull was going to crack open, her headache piercing through her as she glanced down. She was lying on a bed, tucked in with a soft blanket. With effort she pushed herself up in a sitting position, to be able to look around better. This was her room. There were the books stacked on the floor, her closet opposite her, the  windows on her left. The curtains were drawn shut, the sunlight spilling from the gaps, casting a dimmed light on the room.

When had she gone home? To be honest, with how sleep-deprived she had been the past days, she wasn't that surprised that she didn't fully remember it. She was simply glad she had been able to get a good night's sleep, even if whatever combination of pills she had taken this time for it to succeed apparently hadn't worked well. She had woken up vomiting once before because of the side effects, so this headache was fine.

With a sigh she pushed the blanket off her, standing up to stretch out. If the sun was up already that meant it was time for work, so she should just get ready quickly. Where was her phone? She glanced at the nightstand beside her bed, but it wasn't lying in it's usual position. Oh well, it probably wasn't like she had slept more than five hours anyway, so she didn't think she was late.

Nathan. What had been her last conversation with him? She had the feeling it had been something crucial, but if she couldn't remember it probably didn't matter. It felt like gravity was weighing every movement of hers down more than usual today, the way to her closet feeling like an agonizingly long one.  Whatever, it was probably going to pass. First, she needed to change. She opened her closet, before staring at the sight in front of her.

It was empty. Why? Where were her clothes? Her mind started clearing up more, panic setting in as she turned and ran to her nightstand, opening the drawers to find nothing as well. The door, she had to get out. Something was wrong. Her hand tightened around the doorknob, but no matter how hard she pulled, it didn't give. It was locked. She let go, immediately walking over to her window then as she pushed the curtains aside, blinded by the light for a brief moment.

She wasn't at home. The window overlooked a garden full with red roses, stretching as far as her eye could see, but more importantly were the bars in front of it, the sight enough to make her blood run cold. Oh God, Nathan had kidnapped her. It was all starting to come back, whatever drug he had injected her with finally beginning to clear up. She pulled the sleeve of her crimson nightgown up to look at the needle prick on her arm, surprisingly finding a band aid on it.

Her initial shock was starting to fade as she told herself to calm down, sitting on the bed as she stared in thought in front of her. He had killed everyone, that she was sure of, but what had happened to Dante? Had he kept his promise? The fact that he hadn't killed her right then and there was proof that he wasn't going to harm her though, at least for now. She wasn't stupid enough to not know the reason he had taken her along. Like he had said, she entertained him, so as long as she continued doing so, would he keep her away from harm?

Probably not. She had lived in constant fear before in a home of terror and anger, so it wasn't like she wasn't used to it. After all, she had learned to act exactly in a place like this. For now, she'd have to see how long he planned to keep her here and then she could form a plan. With the way he had been talking, it seemed like he never planned to let her go, but she knew that couldn't be the case. His interest had piqued quickly, but who knew how fast it would die out again? Before it did, she needed to escape.

Or did she? With how long she had resigned herself to death, was this not the perfect moment to let herself go? He wouldn't do it quick, but this was a surefire way for her to be able to sleep finally, wasn't it? She pushed the thoughts to the back of her head, knowing this wasn't the time to be wondering about when she was going to die. All she had to do was get out of here alive and then she'd focus on the next step. If she died now Zion would make art out of her grave, wouldn't he? More than anything, she couldn't stand that idea.