Rise of The Unseen

Change in Her Eyes

Marta's eyelids fluttered open, her vision blurred and distorted. The world around her seemed to sway and spin, and a sharp pang of dizziness shot through her head. She groaned softly, her hand moving to her forehead as if to ease the throbbing ache reverberating within her skull.

As her surroundings slowly came into focus, Marta realized she was lying on a hard surface. The cold, unyielding sensation beneath her sent a shiver down her spine. She blinked, trying to clear her vision, only to wince at the harshness of the light that assaulted her eyes. The ceiling lights above her felt almost too bright, their intensity piercing through the fog of her disorientation.

With a small, pained moan, Marta shifted her position, gingerly pushing herself up to a sitting position. The world seemed to tilt and sway as she moved, and she closed her eyes briefly, willing the dizziness to subside. When she dared to open them again, the ceiling lights were still glaring annoyances, but the room's details were becoming more defined.

As her senses gradually adjusted, Marta took in her surroundings. She was in a small, dimly lit cell, the walls a drab gray, and the air heavy with a musty, metallic scent. The realization that she was within the confines of a police station sent a jolt of anxiety through her.

Marta brought a hand to her head once more, her fingers pressing gently against her temple as she tried to make sense of her situation. A tiny smudge of blood on her hand caught her attention, and she realized she must have sustained a minor injury. The memories were fragmented, a sequence of events that seemed to blur together—her frantic attempt to join her family, the adrenaline-fueled fight with the guard, being taken to the police station, and then... darkness.

A sense of unease settled within her as Marta struggled to recall the moments leading up to her current state. Her body felt achy, her movements sluggish. She shifted her gaze, taking in the cell's stark interior—the cold metal bars that confined her, the small grated window that allowed a glimpse of the outside world, and the worn, uncomfortable cot that served as her makeshift bed.

The light from the ceiling fixtures cast a harsh glow, and Marta found herself squinting against its intensity. Each flicker of light felt like a stab of discomfort, amplifying the pounding in her head. She closed her eyes briefly, focusing on her breathing, willing the dizziness to ebb away.

Finally, with a steadying breath, Marta managed to open her eyes again, her vision slowly adjusting to the light. She felt a mixture of vulnerability and frustration, the uncertainty of her situation gnawing at her resolve. She couldn't stay in this cell, not when the world outside was fraught with danger, not when her family needed her.

Summoning her determination, Marta pushed herself to her feet, her body protesting with every movement. She took a cautious step forward, her legs feeling unsteady beneath her. As she reached the cell's bars, she gripped them tightly, her fingers curling around the cold metal.

Her gaze traveled to the grated window, and for a moment, she caught a glimpse of the outside world—the pale light of day casting a muted glow over the desolate streets. The sight reminded her of the dangers that lurked beyond these walls, the threats she had come to know all too well.

"Careful there, princess," a guard's voice echoed from the shadows. "Wouldn't want you to pass out again. You've been in and out of consciousness for a while now. Didn't think a little push would mess you up that much."

As Marta heard the guard's voice, she started to recognize it as belonging to the person who had picked her up and pulled her away from her family.

Marta still held his gaze, even if she couldn't quite see his face, as he got closer, holding his arm, that seemed to be bleeding, tightly. Eventually, he sat himself at the door of her cell, turned away from her. "Cat's got your tongue? You're not gonna make me talk to myself, are you? I've been here all alone since New Dawn decided to pick up the rest of the people in here..." He rambled then laughed "Well, not everyone, they left me a few fiesty little friends and, well, you." He coughed.