PROBLEM - Anthony Lockwood

CHAPTER SEVENTY SEVEN

~

lxxvii

wattpad's line spacing is really dodgy

~

ANTHONY'S HAND STRAYED to the small of Alice's back.

Alice melted into his touch.

They were both curled up in her bed, simply finding comfort alongside each other.

"Ally?" Lockwood inquired, suddenly breaking the silence. "Can I ask something of you?"

Alice hummed in answer, nodding and looking up at him.

"Can I see your scars?" he asked, voice low.

Alice's brows furrowed, "Why?"

"I want to know your story," he replied, brushing a strand of hair out of her face. "So that you know that you don't need to hide or run from me ever again."

Alice stayed silent, looking at him for a long time.

And, finally, she pulled away slightly, gently grabbing her top and pulling it off so that she was wearing nothing but her joggers and a black bra. She screwed her eyes at the cold, not just of the air - but of his gaze, not opening them.

She didn't want to see the look on his face.

Lockwood's eyes widened in abhorrence as he took in the harrowing mess that was Alice Deane's skin.

There were several wounds that had scarred over her middriff and sides, showing that she'd been slashed and stabbed before.

There were horrible scars on her arms. The burn of iron shackles and chains deeply marred into her skin as well as the pinpricks around her inner elbow. There were deep wounds across her arms, slashes that had gouged deep into the skin, as if someone had tried to bleed her.

And on her chest, over her heart, was the worst of them all.

The mark from where her own skin had been carved off.

Lockwood felt sick.

"Can I touch you?" He inquired.

Alice still refused to open her eyes.

"Yes."

He reached out, running his fingers as gently as he could over every scar, as if he was attempting to memorise them. He held her gently, as if afraid she might break.

And finally, he leaned forward, brushing his lips against the worst of them all. The one on her chest.

Alice's eyes shot open. She watched as he pulled away from her and then tucked a strand of hair behind her ears.

She looked up at him through her lashes.

He was so close that she could count his freckles.

Alice leaned forward and gently kissed Lockwood.

Lockwood's breath hitched. He ran one hand through her hair, holding her as he kissed back. Until she was pulling away and breathing slightly heavily.

"Tell me their stories," he whispered, his fingers travelling down her back to rest on a raised scar that was long against her skin.

Lashes.

Alice leaned into his arms, letting him wrap an arm around her as she leaned against his chest. She ran her fingers along her other arm. "I was kidnapped over a year and a half ago. Hunters. I stayed with them for almost a year before I escaped. These..." she ran her fingers over the burns and rope burns, "are from the iron they chained me with." She moved to the pinpricks. "These are from when they took my blood. Eventually, they got tired of doing it that way and just bled me out the old fashioned style," she explained, pointing to the gashes.

He couldn't speak. He couldn't say anything for fear that his voice would break from sheer rage and despair.

How could she have survived?

This was hellish.

She pointed to the scars on her midriff, "I was a warrior for Pendle. Some witches are trained from young to fight off the hunters, so I was constantly in battle or having to go off to other covens to help fill their defences."

She let her fingers dance over her shoulder for a moment. "Lashes. From when I was taken. And on the back of my right shoulder, there's a circle - that torture device that I stole from the Black Library made it."

"What... what does it do?" he questioned, his voice barely a whisper. Instantly, after he spoke, he regretted asking at all.

Alice hesitated for a moment. "It's a little thing. Like an iron bug, with tiny claws all around. When it's in a witch, we can't do magic. I broke the original prototype by ripping it out of my shoulder."

He felt terribly sick. Almost like he was a tie between his entire body having pins and needles, floating and having a migrane at the effort of not lashing out in rage.

But at the same time, he was utterly astounded and couldn't even say a word.

Alice fingers strayed to her temple, and she let out a shaky breath. "After they were done experimenting on me, they shoved me in a Pit in the ground with iron bars. It was lined with salt and silver, which bled away my magic slowly, and the bug in my back didn't help matters. We witches are stronger than mortals, so I managed to survive there on rainwater, worms, and rats for a few months. Eventually, I started going absolutely insane."

Her voice was quiet and quivered dangerously. She was silently crying as she recounted the memories.

"One night, a blood moon appeared in the sky. So I ripped the bug off of me and began to chanell the moon's power." Alice closed her eyes, screwing them shut, "I bent the bars and ran. I've been running ever since."

"I'm so sorry, Alice," Lockwood whispered, holding her gently but firmly in his arms.

Alice gave a wet chuckle. "I survived, didn't I, love?"

He hummed in reply. He wanted to ask about her last scar, the worst one, but suspected that it would be insensitive.

As if she knew what he was thinking, she pressed her fingers to the scar.

"When I was 5, Hunters hanged my parents and made me watch," Alice revealed. "They dunked me under the water to see if I floated or sunk, which is a load of bullshit. And then sold me to a Hunter Society, who branded me with their symbol."

Lockwood could feel bile rising in his throat.

"You were 5?" his voice shook, "Who does that to a 5 year old? That's horrible."

Alice stared into the distance. "When Hunters raid covens, it's worse. Persecution was worse pre-Problem, but it's still rife in the country. Once, 12 other warriors - including my brother - were called to the aid of a nearby village that was under attack. He took me with him. The things we saw that day were unspeakable." She shook the memory out of her head and pulled away from Lockwood, grabbing her top and quickly pulling it on again. "Anyway, it doesn't matter because I carved it off of me with my knife when I was 17."

Lockwood watched in horror as she lay down like it meant nothing.

"Oh my god."

Alice laced her fingers with his.

"Welcome to what it's like being a Witch."