The Cravers

19. Visitors

I couldn't say I've never been into prison. Years ago, when I was on a mission in Saudi Arabia, I was held hostage by a gang because I was trying to rescue young children. I've been in and out of prisons so much, I lost count. But none was threatening enough for me. I've never felt this endangered. Because I used to know, one way or another, I would get out. I'd find a way. I was immortal, humans could not get rid of me so easily.

But now, I was in the hands of immortal people---Cravers---and from the way I looked at the problem, every angle spelled the same ending. Doom. Death. 

It was hard to comfort oneself, knowing that anyone I cared who would be able to save me were out of my reach. No visitors have been allowed for the last three days. According to the Detectors that lingered around, the Coven were still deciding to see how they'd "take care" of me. 

I sat down. I was bored. How much could you do in a cell? It wasn't the small space that irked me. It was my mind. It was eating me alive. I kept running into dead ends. It frightened me. Death.

I heard footsteps from the corridor. I stuck my head out as far as I could through the bars. A Detector was coming with a tray in his hands. My lunch.

"Here you go," he slid it under the slot. "Its not clam chowder today. Sorry."

"Don't be. I never liked it anyway." I muttered, taking a look at the bowl of rice and a loaf of bread. I didn't feel hungry. I felt deprived of hope. I needed it hope.

"Well, the bread is fresh today, unlike the stale kind you've had yesterday."

"Thanks." I replied drily. 

I set the tray on the bench. Then I began to pace around. Lately, that's all I did to stay sane. 

How could Kingsley do that to me? Just as I started to like him, he backstabbed me. I was such an easy target, I should've seen it coming. I should've planned.

I wanted to punch something. I was angry. I wanted to kill him. 

He was enjoying this, he wanted to see me gone. He doesn't feel bad for me. He never did.

I sat down. "I need to get out of here." I picked the bread, took a small bite. The Detector was right, it was fresh. "But how?" I took a bigger bite of the bread, chewing it contemplatively.

When I took another bite, I felt a bit of paper in my mouth. I looked at the bread. 

And sure enough, a piece of paper was curled in. Like a secret. Or a message.

I took the paper out, unfurled it. And read it.

Give me the key and you are free.

The key. Again.

Hadn't he had enough? I grunted and slammed my hand on the bench. Who did he think he was? I wouldn't surrender that easily. He thinks he can trick me with his games. Kingsley Scott has it coming then.

"I will kill you before I surrender." I raged, fuming anger boiled through my veins. "Guards!" I yelled. "Guards!"

A Detector came around. The same one who brought the tray. "What do you need?" He sighed.

"Who got my food?" I asked.

"I did?" He rose a brow.

"Who made it?" I refined my question.

"Uh, we had it shipped from the market. Why's that?"

"I need a name. Who touched my food." I demanded.

"Is there a problem?" He scoffed. "If you are offended by the quality then I'm sorry Princess, but this isn't your luxury mansion. You can't get everything." He did a once-over at me. "Especially knowing you murdered someone."