Darkness in the Shadows

CHAPTER 16

Her moment of respite was abruptly interrupted when the door swung open and the women re-entered the room. The men who had followed her earlier waited just outside, their expressions unreadable as the women entered, leaving the door ajar. "Name, now!" the woman demanded, her tone commanding. "Alana Quela, and you are?" Alana replied, her voice firm despite her rising apprehension. The woman's curt and dismissive response left Alana with no more information than before.

Alana watched in silence as the woman conversed with someone outside, the tension in the room palpable. Moments later, three men entered, dragging a chair and a length of rope behind them. The chair was covered in a strange pattern that made
Alana uneasy, hinting at the ominous purpose ahead.

The air was heavy with a sense of foreboding, and Alana's heart pounded in her chest as she was pushed roughly onto a wooden chair at the centre of the room. The men stood around her, their expressions inscrutable as they secured her wrists and ankles with thick, rough rope.

As Alana struggled against her restraints, the woman approached, her eyes cold and calculating. "You will tell us your power and allow us to enter your mind, or there will be consequences for being here without a mark or evidence," she stated, her tone unwavering.

Alana's mind raced. She knew she had to be careful to protect her mind at all costs. But as the woman moved closer, Alana felt a wave of fear wash over her. She was alone, surrounded by strangers in a place she didn't recognize, and the threat of unknown consequences loomed large.

Summoning all her courage, Alana met the woman's gaze. "I don't know what you're talking about," she said defiantly, hoping to buy herself some time to think of a plan. The woman's response was swift and merciless. With a nod, she signaled to the
Suddenly, Alana felt a searing pain shoot through her mind, as though her thoughts were being ripped apart. She screamed, unable to withstand the onslaught. The room spun around her, and darkness threatened to consume her. It was then that Alana realized her ordeal had only just begun.

Alana's screams echoed off the walls of the chamber, blending with the haunting chants of the men. The pain in her mind was excruciating, as if her very thoughts were being torn asunder. She tried to retreat within herself to find the darkness that had protected her before, but it was elusive, slipping through her grasp like smoke.

Through the haze of agony, Alana caught glimpses of memories flashing before her eyes. Scenes from her past, her childhood, and her training with Trent all seemed to be laid bare before her captors. She felt violated, exposed in a way she had never experienced before.

Just as she felt she could bear no more, the chanting abruptly stopped. The room fell silent, save for Alana's laboured breathing. The woman approached, a triumphant smile playing on her lips. "You have a rare gift, Alana Quela," she said, her voice dripping with satisfaction. "Your mind is strong, stronger than we anticipated. But we will break you one way or another."

Alana's head throbbed with pain, but she refused to show weakness. "What do you want from me?" she demanded, her voice strained. The woman's smile widened. "We want your power, your ability to resist us. We want to harness it, to use it for our own purposes. And we will stop at nothing to get it."

With a wave of her hand, the woman signalled to the men, who began to chant once more. Alana braced herself for another onslaught, steeling her mind against the assault. She knew she had to find a way to resist, to protect herself from these ruthless interrogators. The darkness within her may have faltered, but Alana's resolve remained unbroken.

As the chanting grew louder, Alana felt a surge of desperation. She knew she had to find a way to shield her mind to protect herself from the invasive probing of these mysterious captors. Drawing on every ounce of strength she had left, Alana focused inward, seeking the familiar presence of the darkness that had once been her shield.

To her surprise, she felt a faint flicker of the darkness stirring within her. It was weak, barely there, Alana suddenly a sadness for its minor presence. but it was enough to give her hope. With renewed determination, Alana concentrated on nurturing the spark, coaxing it to grow stronger. Slowly, she felt the darkness respond, wrapping around her mind like a protective barrier. Alana felt grateful to the darkness for some reprieve and let out a breath.

As the chanting reached a crescendo, Alana unleashed the full force of her newfound shield. The pain that had threatened to overwhelm her moments ago now receded, replaced by a sense of calm resolve. The probing of her captors bounced off her mental defences, unable to breach the barrier she had erected.

The woman's triumphant smile faltered, replaced by a look of disbelief. "What have you done?" she demanded, her voice tinged with fear. Alana remained silent, her gaze steady as she stared down her captors. Though she knew she had won this battle, she was acutely aware that the war was far from over.

With a wave of her hand, the woman signalled for the chanting to stop. The chamber fell silent once more, the tension thick in the air. Alana could feel the eyes of her captors boring into her, their minds no doubt racing with plans to break her newfound defences.

But Alana was not about to give up. She had discovered a strength within herself that she never knew existed, and she was determined to use it to fight back against those who sought to control her. As she stood defiantly in the face of her captors, Alana vowed to herself that she would find a way to escape, to regain her freedom, no matter what it took.

"Take her below" The woman announced loudly. Alana's heart skipped a beat as two of the men advanced toward her, their movements decisive and unsettling. She instinctively resisted as they grabbed her arms and untied her, the panic rising within her as they forcibly lifted her from the chair and led her out of the room.

As they pulled her through the corridors, Alana's mind raced with questions. Where were they taking her? Why had her circumstances changed so suddenly? The men remained silent, their grip firm as they guided her through the unfamiliar surroundings. Alana's thoughts turned to escape, but the presence of the guards and the unknown consequences of resistance kept her compliant, for now.

As they approached the end of a hallway, lined with numerous doors, Alana's heart pounded with uncertainty. She glanced ahead at the woman leading them, her mind racing with questions about her new destination and the intentions of those escorting her.

The woman opened a door, revealing a steep staircase leading downward into darkness. Alana eyed the woman curiously as they began their descent. Lights along the ceiling illuminated their path as they passed doors with intricate carvings. Alana swallowed hard, recognizing the significance of these markings.

Turning a corner, the woman opened another door. The men pushed Alana into the room and shut the door behind her, leaving only a small gap for light to filter through. The woman's voice, laced with contempt, echoed through the narrow opening, "No Quelas are left, so on the slight chance you are telling the truth, you will be held. But on the chance you're not, we will be attempting to get the truth."

Alana narrowed her eyes at the faint outline of the woman visible through the gap. Was that a threat? The words reverberated in Alana's mind, filling her with unease.

The woman's words left Alana perplexed as she was led away. She stepped into the room and looked around, noting the similarity in construction to her previous accommodations, except for the intricate carvings covering every surface. Curiosity piqued. She approached a wall and cautiously ran her fingers over the markings, only to recoil in pain as they turned red and burned into her skin. Strange patterns of swirls and triangles centred with dots. Alana looked at them carefully. They were different to the marking at Blare.

Clutching her hand, Alana grimaced at the mark on the wall. It seemed to have an effect on her, one she couldn't quite understand. Sitting on the small cot, she placed her hands on the material, attempting to summon the darkness within her. Yet, as she concentrated, she felt a strange sensation under her skin, a motion that wasn't physical. With a gasp, she closed her eyes, determined to connect with the darkness she relied on for comfort.

Pushing deeper within herself, Alana tried to draw forth the familiar sensation, but all she found was the warmth of the blanket beneath her. A tear escaped her eye as she realized the darkness she had relied on was beyond her reach.

Alana examined the burn on her hand, the pain still sharp. She shook her hand gently to get some air on the wound, her mind racing with thoughts about the mysterious markings in the room. If these carvings contained her abilities, how did they intend to extract that information from her? The procedure seemed confusing, especially since she had given them no reason to see her as a threat.

Footsteps sounded outside the door. They were soft, as though they didn't want to be heard. Someone whispered gently, but the words sounded loud, which confused Alana. "I'm not going to apologise as your words put you here, but I strongly suggest you rethink your position before you say anything else," someone whispered from outside the door. Alana's eyes shot up at the sound, "I will apologise for what's coming. They are ruthless," the voice spoke before the footsteps started again fading away. Alana took a deep breath lying down on the cot.

Alana took a deep breath to steady herself. She knew she needed to be cautious, as the situation seemed to be escalating, and her captors appeared determined to extract information from her by any means necessary.

The footsteps outside the door grew fainter, the whispered conversation drifting away with them. Alana's heart pounded in her chest, a mixture of fear and uncertainty clouding her thoughts. She tried to make sense of the cryptic warnings she had just heard. Who were these people, and why were they so intent on extracting information from her?

As she lay back on the cot, Alana felt a wave of exhaustion wash over her. She closed her eyes, trying to calm her racing mind. Despite the danger she was in, she couldn't shake the feeling of helplessness that had settled over her. She was trapped, with no way to defend herself against whatever they had planned.

Alana knew she needed to be cautious. She couldn't afford to let her guard down, not even for a moment. The events of the past few hours had made it clear that her captors were ruthless and would stop at nothing to get what they wanted.

Alana lay there, her closed eyes a feeble barrier against the harrowing sounds echoing down the hallway—cries of pain and pleas for mercy that grew louder, drawing nearer. The noises had started a while ago, and though Alana's surprise was palpable, she was powerless to intervene.

Eventually, unable to ignore the unsettling sounds any longer, Alana sat up on the bed. Her lips pressed into a tight line, and she listened intently, trying to discern any pattern or purpose behind the cacophony. The room felt smaller, suffocating almost, as if the walls were closing in around her.

Her eyes darted around the room, taking in every detail. Next to the cot was a small toilet, a bucket of green liquid beside it. Alana grimaced, realizing they likely wouldn't allow prisoners to have prignat here; it might hinder their information-gathering efforts. The realization only added to her growing sense of dread and unease.

Examining the cot closely, Alana noticed that the wooden structure bore no markings. She lifted it gently, noticing that some of the legs were splintering. Alana furrowed her brow. Could that be a potential aid? She lowered the bed just as she heard the door latch click open, and three figures entered the room. They were dressed in beige clothes, their heads covered with hoods.

"Have you heard of us?" one of them asked. Alana shook her head, indicating she didn't recognize them. Two of them then pulled her to her feet, while the one who spoke moved closer, crouching to her level.

"We encourage you to talk. And when the priestess returns, you will answer her questions, you'll answer, or we'll repeat the process," a woman said, her tone firm. Alana frowned, confusion clouding her features. Were these people out of their minds?
"I fully intend to answer her questions, I always have, but she has to ask them first," Alana retorted. Before she could process their response, a sharp blow landed in her stomach, knocking the wind out of her. The two men holding her arms tightened their grip, forcing her back. Alana's eyes widened in surprise at their aggressive approach, her thoughts interrupted by another blow.

The grips on her arms tightened painfully, causing Alana to furrow her brow. She felt warmth trickling down from their grip, and she closed her eyes, bracing herself for what was to come. The next blow landed swiftly, hitting her chest with a force that made her yell out in agony as she heard a distinct crack from within. Her breaths became shallow and laboured, the pain spreading with each inhale and exhale. Alana's face contorted in anguish, tears threatening to spill from her closed eyes.

The next blow came quickly after, a sharp pain shooting through her back. Alana couldn't hold back her cries as she opened her eyes, the pain unbearable. The woman who had been in front of her was now gone, leaving Alana disoriented and in excruciating pain. She moved her head around in confusion, only to be met with another sharp pain, this time in her back.

"Fuck!" Alana screamed, the agony piercing through the room. The pressure on one arm loosened slightly as she yelled, and then she was abruptly dropped onto the bed without a word spoken. The figures turned and walked towards the door, which opened and closed as they exited, leaving Alana alone in the room, the pain throbbing through her body.

Alana lay in the awkward position she had fallen into, her legs hanging off the bed and her head resting against the bed frame. The events of the past moments replayed in her mind, the pain still fresh in her body. She couldn't fathom their strategy—torture before interrogation? It seemed barbaric and senseless. Alana tried to shake her head in disbelief, but the movement sent waves of pain through her body, forcing her to remain still.

Instead, she closed her eyes, seeking solace in the darkness within her. She hoped that by embracing it, she could find relief from the physical torment that gripped her. The darkness was her refuge, a place where pain could be numbed, if only for a moment.

As she lay there, the minutes stretched into what felt like hours. The pain gradually dulled, replaced by a deep exhaustion that washed over her. Alana's eyelids grew heavy, and despite the discomfort of her position and the ache in her body, sleep eventually claimed her. It was a restless and uneasy slumber, haunted by the events of the day and the uncertainty of what lay ahead.

Alana's screams echoed off the walls of the cell, a desperate plea for mercy that fell on deaf ears. The men surrounding her showed no sign of relenting, their faces contorted with cruel satisfaction. Blood dripped from her arms and legs, staining the ripped fabric of her shirt. She had been trapped in this hellish room for what felt like an eternity, subjected to torture and questions at the hands of her captors.

Every two days, they would administer a vile of Prignat, a substance that helped healing and recovery. But the effects were limited, dampened by the oppressive environment of the cell. Despite the Prignat's supposed benefits, the wounds on her body seemed to linger, refusing to fully heal. Every three days, the cycle would repeat, with the men returning to continue their sadistic game.

As they forcefully pulled her up, Alana's body screamed in protest. The man's rough hands pushed her against the wall, causing fresh agony as her wounds grated against the marked surface. She cried out, the pain unbearable, her voice mingling with the stench of the man's fetid breath as he leaned in closer.

"It shouldn't be taking this long," he muttered, his words a chilling reminder of her endless torment. Alana's eyes flickered open, meeting his gaze with defiance despite the overwhelming pain. She refused to let them break her spirit, even as she struggled to endure the unrelenting agony.

Alana seethed with hatred, her body a canvas of pain from the repeated visits of the woman interrogator. Despite answering every question, the woman never seemed satisfied, always convinced there was more to Alana's story. She had kept her connection to the darkness hidden, knowing they would never understand or believe her. The woman's relentless pursuit of information only deepened Alana's resolve to endure.

As the man pressed her harder against the wall, Alana's anger flared. She felt a surge of defiance, a refusal to be broken by these tormentors. Summoning all her strength, she raised her head and spat in the man's face, a small act of rebellion that earned her a sharp blow to the cheek. The pain shot through her, but she refused to back down.

Released from his grip, Alana fell to the ground, her hands scrambling for anything she could use as a weapon. Her gaze fell on the splintered leg of the bed, a potential makeshift weapon against her assailants. She moved towards it, but before she could reach it, a strong hand seized her hair, yanking her upright once more. The man's fetid breath assaulted her senses, but Alana's expression remained defiant, a silent declaration of her resilience in the face of their brutality.

The man's grunt preceded a violent throw, and Alana crashed into the bed, feeling it collapse beneath her. She lay there, silently hoping that would be the end of her torment. However, her hopes were shattered as a searing pain shot through her body, originating from her back. It was a pain she had become all too familiar with, one that felt like her skin was being torn apart. Despite enduring it repeatedly, she still hadn't discovered its cause. Strangely, the pain always lessened in intensity once her tormentors left.

This time, as the pain missed her back and struck her arm instead, she saw a flash of black. A peculiar black liquid remained where the pain had hit, slowly seeping into her skin. Alana watched it with curiosity until another sharp pain jolted her back to reality, causing her to scream out. A smirk echoed from the door, but her cries drowned out any words that were spoken.

Left alone, Alana lay in silence, the only sound being the reassuring click of the door locking. She tried to move, but the pain held her in place. Gradually, she managed to slide off the broken bed, feeling around the splintered wood for something, anything, she could use to defend herself when they returned.

Her hand brushed against the broken leg of the bed, and she focused her efforts on prying off a piece. She scraped her nails against the crack in the wood, hoping to find some kind of makeshift weapon. Alana then settled back, half-leaning on the collapsed bed, her hand still working to extract a usable shard from the wood.