Fall

Chapter 16: Riptide

I struggle against the tight rope tied around me and the wooden chair I'm in. I'm in a dark room, all alone, with a single lightbulb in front of me. God, I can't believe I agreed to do this. When Ms. Skuld told me I'd have to go through a trial before she told me what we really are, I didn't think this is what she meant. 

I feel around the wooden chair, trying to find a sharp edge or jutting out nail that could help me cut the ropes. But I don't feel anything. It's a smooth chair. Nothing for me to find. Maybe I can break it? If I get enough leverage, enough height. Yes, that could work. With the force of enough height, I could break it and slide out. It'll certainly be painful, but I don't see any other way out of this. I've already canvased the floor and the walls, nothing else for me to try and cut the ropes on.

I stand up on my feet awkwardly, putting all my weight over my knees because of how I have to bend over with the chair on my back. I immediately start rocking my body back and forth, trying to break the chair with the force I'm hitting it against the wall. But it doesn't seem to work at all. I revisit the jumping idea. I don't think I could get enough air just jumping regularly. This is a concrete floor, there's no give to it. Maybe a running start? There isn't a ton of room in here for it. I move to one corner of the room, knowing I'll get more space to run going diagonally across the rectangled room.

I run, using the momentum to push off at the last second and try to get my body to turn and flip in the air. But I don't get high enough. I fall awkwardly on my side with a grunt. "Fucking hell." I mutter under my breath. How long have I even been here for? 

I have to roll my body back up, given how the chair is flat on all sides. I get myself up and start running again, pushing up with all of my might at the last second into a jump. I fall on my back with the chair with a thud, my head snapping and hitting the ground. I feel jumbled and disoriented, my ears ringing from the impact. Fuck.

I have to rock back and forth to finally get myself back on my feet. Maybe if I jumped off one of the walls, I could get higher up? I can feel my lungs beginning to get tighter as I keep trying. I can't reach my inhaler in my pocket, which is only mildly concerning. My arms are tied town.

I take a break for a moment, and that moment is when the door opens with a creak. A tall figure walks in, taller than Ms. Skuld certainly. "What are you doing here, Little Mermaid?" Damon steps into the light, a smirk on his face and a raised eyebrow greeting me. I panic at the sight. I'm tied down, no weapons, and he's just strolling in here. 

"Damon. Kind of in the middle of something." I answer cooly, hoping the facade of being unbothered will bore him enough that he'll leave. It doesn't seem to work though, because he shuts the door and leans against it.

"Oh I noticed. I was coming to find you, when I heard you grunting and wheezing down here. No way that little old lady tied you up. What happened?" He asks with amusement. He could hear me wheezing? I sit back down with the chair and try to think through what the right angle will be to break this chair while I talk to him.

"Training, of a sort. Have to figure this out on my own. If you could do me a favor and grab me my inhaler from my pocket, I'd really appreciate it." I'm loathe to show him a weakness of any kind, but if he already heard the wheezing then he already knows about it. And my chest is getting tighter.

He chuckles and walks over to me, kneeling down to be on my level. "I would, but where's the fun in that? Maybe I came here to kill you, and now I can just wait for your lungs to do the job for me." He raises a challenging eyebrow at me. But I know better, based upon the nice box in his hand and the way he's been treating me since we met.

"You didn't come here to kill me. You're curious about me. You want to know why my blood tastes like it did. So how about you give me my inhaler so I can tell you?" I raise my own eyebrow to meet the challenge. It's a half bluff, because I've got no idea why my blood tastes so differently to him than the blood of regular people. But we've already established that I'm anything but regular. I can't be compelled, with or without vervain. So I'm not human. And besides, as soon as I get out of this chair, Ms. Skuld will tell me anyway. And from there, I can come up with a story or tell him the truth depending on where the chips fall.