He Who Controls the Flame (001 fanfic)

Chapter Two- Trapped

I dreamt of pale blue eyes behind a background of deep red. Somewhere, I could hear music playing, a soft dreamy melody that I could almost recognize but couldn't place. It was a strange dream, one that kept fading in and out as my consciousness waned, but I kept returning to those eyes. Those strange, beautiful, knowing eyes.

I jerked awake to a bright light. As soon as my eyes opened, they shrunk back down to slits, cringing against the pain. Eventually, the ache faded and I was able to finally see my surroundings.

I wasn't in any place I recognized. The world around me was pure white. White tile floors, white walls, even a white ceiling. A ceiling adorned with a single white camera...blinking red. I felt my lips part in shock as I remembered where exactly I was.

My father's lab.

I felt my stomach sink as I remembered what happened. My memory came back in flashes. First, there was Peter Ballard's kind smile, then that awkward ass conversation with my father, and then the cherry on top of it all...the weird ass fucking flower creature straight from hell. Then that strange heat flowing out of me and that bright light. An unnatural heat and an unnatural light. I had done something. Something had happened, something big enough to warrant my father locking me up in here like the rest of his band of freaks.

I stood up, or at least I tried to, but something stopped me. I felt my heart still in my chest as I realized what exactly had stopped me.

Something tight was wrapped around my wrists, wrapped so tightly it grated against my skin and the bones at my wrists. Handcuffs, shiny metal handcuffs encircled my arms, twinkling almost mockingly in the harsh lights.

"No," I gasped. "No, no, no..." I felt tears gather in my eyes as I got to my knees and yanked on the cuffs. They were attached to some sort of loop in the floor, a little metal circle that looked as if it was meant to enchain people. Horror unfurled itself deep in my chest. That was probably because it was.

I yanked again and again, screaming through my teeth. I pulled on the chains until small rivulets of blood started to stream down my wrists and onto my fingers, dripping onto the shiny white floor. Good. Let me stain his fucking precious floors.

Panic started in my chest and I felt my lungs constrict, my airway shrinking to the size of a fucking penny. Every piece of my body seemed to buzz, like a livewire, my skin burning.

"LET ME OUT!" I screamed. Blood was staining my converse, my jeans, streaking the floor. But I couldn't stop. If I could just pull hard enough, maybe I'd break something and I'd be able to wriggle my wrists out.

"YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME!" I stomped my feet so hard that pain radiated up my shins. "ANSWER ME YOU ASSHOLE!" I screamed at the top of my lungs until my chest ached and stars danced in my vision. I tugged and tugged until I felt something in my wrist pop and then white hot agony raced up my veins and I fell to my knees, sobbing.

"You're a fucking coward," I said, my voice a rasp. "A COWARD!" I kicked at the little metal ring in the floor, hoping to kick it out, but the damn thing was invincible, and the blood was making me slip.

"Please..." I cried, pulling at the metal cuffs with my fingertips. I could barely see through the tears. I couldn't tell what I was. Angry? Sad? Panicked? Maybe all three. "Please don't do this to me. Daddy, please." I curled up onto the tile, staring right up at that little camera, the red blinking light taunting me. Mocking me.

"Fuck you," I breathed, raising my middle finger. It was bloody, and didn't go far because of the cuffs, but it was the least I could fucking do right now.

I didn't know how long I laid there for, staring up at the ceiling, the red light all I could see, when suddenly the door opened. I wished I didn't, wished I stayed laying down, remained nonchalant, but instead I jerked upwards and spun towards the door, hope flaring in my chest like a starburst.