❝I adore when you surrender to me, granting me dominion over your body, mirroring my sovereignty over this realm.❞
In had been years since the integration between humankind and the supernatural amongst society. Consequently severing his relation...
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"Insane madness of the living can be more, more terrible than the bloody hunger of the undead..." ― Silvia Liam
B r i e l l e ❦ W i n t e r s
MY HEAD THROBBED as I slowly came to consciousness. The dull ache pulsed in time with the distant sounds of the city, a harsh cacophony filtering through my foggy mind. I opened eyes and gasp at the harsh lights of the ceiling. The air was thick with a musty scent of old wood and damp concrete, mingling with the metallic tang of blood. My blood, I realized, as I raised my trembling hand to my temple and felt the sticky wetness.
The room was small and bare, with peeling wallpaper and a single window high up on the wall. Through it, I could see the faint glow of city lights, hear the muffled hum of traffic and the occasional shout of a passerby. Panic surges through my veins as I began to realize that I was no longer at The Montage and I had no idea where I was.
I heard a distant sigh. "I hate doing this to them."
A couple of chuckles responded, and I quickly snapped my head to the corner of the room. Seven people stood there, watching me curiously from afar.
"Wakey wakey," said a man with a grown-out beard and a bright blond buzz cut as he slowly strode closer to me. "We're so sorry about the place. We weren't expecting to get a hold of the future queen of Elefthería."
His words were met with another wave of laughter from the rest of the group as he gave me a sly smile.
"Wha—" I couldn't even complete the word as my anxiety spiked and my breathing intensified. I looked down to see that my arms were tightly restrained to the stool I sat on and my feet were bound to its legs.
"Aw," a woman purred from across the room. "Don't stress her too hard, Jacob."
"W-Where a-am I?" I asked, looking around frantically.
The man, now known to me as Jacob, circled around my chair tauntingly. "Don't worry, we won't hurt you if we don't have to."
Their laughter echoed, screeching and mocking.
Jacob studied me closely, arms crossed, before nodding slowly to himself. "Okay, I'm done playing around. Let's cut to the chase, Brielle." The way he said my name was so vile, filled with disdain. "The establishment needs a lesson."
The establishment? Was he talking about our leadership?
"Our movement has been gaining momentum thanks to the protests occurring every week. But we don't settle for the petty demonstrations that the masses think will bring forth attention. No, we go for the very limits of what's feasible."
I watched the man, chills running up and down my spine. What the hell was going on, and what did it have to do with me?
"The ASO club doesn't mind going to extremes. It's in our nature to reclaim what has been taken from us for so many years," he declared.
