White Gate Heart

• Chapter Twenty •

Pressure seemed to be put on my forehead and my eyes fluttered open. Coughing from the stale and heavy air, I shot upwards, only to feel a hand fly off my head. Groaning, the man scolded me.

"Sit still!"

I widened my eyes and shot a glare at the small doctor. His size was that of Thomas'. The remainder of that night came back to me quicker than before and I was unfortunately in the same room as before. Mark stood behind the doctor, concerned. The other men had removed themselves and I finally felt like the area was a little larger and less compact.

Sitting upright, I allowed the doctor to wrap my head and apply some wretched smelling ointment to my hair. Whatever it was would make my hair repulsive looking and oily; how wonderful.

"How are you feeling?" Mark asked uncomfortably, seeming to shift in his stance.

"Glamorous, thank you," I snapped in anger. I had been hoping that all of the previous events had been a dream and that when I would open my eyes I'd be back in my bed, snuggled tightly against the warm comfort of my sheets. To my unlucky fortune, I wasn't. Instead, I sat on this ancient cot with some miniature doctor tending to me while Mark planned his ideas of kidnap.

Mark raised his hands in defense and shrugged me off. Suddenly, an idea sparked. This doctor would certainly tell someone I was in danger if I told him.

"S-sir, this man has stolen me from a very important party and I must say I have not been treated properly. Please help me," I whispered in his ear, hoping Mark would not have heard any of it. He understood my intentions and laughed, as did the doctor. I simply sat there, gaping.

"He's a good friend Rebekah. He knows we didn't intentionally hurt you and we plan on releasing you," Mark informed with a friendly hint of voice. My response, however, was quite the opposite of friendly.

"Oh you sickly sons of b-"

"That's not the way someone of your status should talk. Where have you learned such harsh words?" the doctor reprimanded, stuffing his items into a small leather bag after his treatment.

"I didn't. They just come and go naturally."

"You should work on making them appear less," he stated flatly.

"Her head is fine. However, I do want you to walk a bit for me. Stroll around the room so I can assure that you are healthy." I did as he told with a huff and walked lazily around the room. My head felt like it was banging on a drum on the inside, aching pain insisting.

"Do you feel lightheaded as you walk?" I shook my head and he seemed satisfied.

"Good. Now, there will be some pain and it could last a few days. The bleeding stopped and you aren't showing signs of any bad trauma, so I'll leave. Good luck," he spoke to Mark, patting him gently on the shoulder before he shut the door behind his tiny figure.

I panicked as Mark scraped a chair behind him and sat in it. I remained standing beside the hearth. The door seemed to lure me out, but I knew better. Men stood outside those doors. One turn of the knob and I'd have a room full of large men in here holding me in.

"What do you want, Mark?" I asked simply, tired of being in a place equivalent to a dungeon. The dark walls gave the room an evil appearance, making me feel small and out of place.

"We need a favor."

"Who is 'we' and what do they need?" I replied flatly, hissing out my words.

"Let me speak before you say anything."

I nodded hesitantly, urging him on with his speech. It was necessary to remove myself from that dreadful place as soon as possible. At this point, I'd do anything to get myself out of there.