War's Child

Shuffling at Each Syllable

The sound of rattling on what seems to be tile woke me up. I open my eyes to see darkness. A copper taste fills my mouth and dried blood blankets my body. Cold air gently touches my cuts and bruises. I try to move, but I am tied down with metal cables. The smell of oil burns my nose.

"There is no point in trying to run" a s
fragile male voice said. "They won't let you leave because you're special."

"What do you mean by 'special'?" I try to respond without showing fear. Clicking, rattling, ticking fills the silence.

"You are a child of a Horseman." His Turkish accent became steady and sure.

"I don't understand" I know that I heal much faster than a regular human and have better senses, so that might have something to do with it. I can hear his footsteps come closer and closer to my sordid state. His hot breath warms my frigid, bloody left ear.

"The four Horsemen from the Books of Revelation. Your father i-" the sound of a metal door opening interrupts him. The sound of multiple feet moving masks the beating of a fan. They whisper in an unfamiliar language and they seem to shuffle their feet at each syllable.

"Where is my partner?" I ask calmly. My question quiets their confusing clamour. Large hands grab the back of my head, removing the blindfold.
Opening my eye, I saw the noisy cluster of people in front of me. Their facial expressions holds suprise and amazment. Looking around I see the beige walls and the somewhat clean floors. Nothing really caught my attention except the man with the snowy colored eyes staring at me. The strange man looks to be in his early twenties, but his hair is a gray with blonde tints. His muscular build shows through tight, black button up shirt. A hand stays on my right shoulder.
"It's nice to meet you, Daughter of War." His smirk grows larger and larger by the second." I've never met another child of a Horseman until now." His strange story began frustrating me to the point that my wrists are bleeding from my attempt of escaping.
"I don't care. All I need is my partner and the three soldiers."
"Oh Annabelle. You are so clueless and naive, but that's what makes you adorable." His cloudy white eyes anger me. "One way one can identify and a Child of a Horseman is their eyes. And your's are a magnificent fiery red. They represent the horse of War. Mine on the other hand are whitish gray like the horse of Conquest. " His nonchalant voice confuses me as he speaks. "That's why our fathers were never in the picture. They have to deal with the rotting bodies of humanity." His confidence left at the last sentence, allowing the beating fan, at the back of the room, have a voice.
"Thank you for telling me this great story and torturing me, but I have things to do." My sarcasm and anger flows with the words. The crowd of people leaves the bleak room with a snap of his pale fingers.
"Call me Ilbey. And don't forget it." He grabs the blindfold off the floor, and ties it around my swollen face. I hear the steam creeping towards. Before I know it, I lose conscious.