The Return of Mythians

Chapter 22

SOFIA'S POV

I woke up with a pounding headache that forced me to sit up against the headboard. As I pressed my hand to my forehead, the events that had just transpired came rushing back. I remembered Artemis gripping my hand, desperately trying to save me. But then M appeared, her face twisted with murderous intent. The next thing I knew, I had fainted into the arms of a stranger. An unfamiliar room that was filled with white, gray, and black walls greeted my sight. There are no windows, I felt like I'm in an underground basement. My heart pounds faster with the thought.

I yanked myself away from the bed and strides towards the door. I pounded the door so hard that it made my fists hurt, I didn't care though.

"Let me out! Is anybody there? M, you freaking bastard! I know you're watching right now. If you won't let me go I will fucking kill myself–"

The door suddenly opened with a thud, it hit the wall so loudly that it made me flinch. My feet retreated on their own. Hindi ko namalayan na nakarating na ako ulit sa kama dahil sa pag-atras, napaupo ako nang wala sa oras. My gaze shifted towards the woman in front of me. She's wearing a black tank top and white cargo pants, this is the second time I saw her wear casual again. The first time was when she stayed in my condo, I convinced her to wear pambahay dahil napaka-pormal niya manuot.

I pushed those old memories away and focused on the present time. She's still wearing her eye patch.

"You're enjoying that threat too much. Do you really think it will work this time?" she said, standing imposingly in front of me. Brutal images flashed through my mind—the blood, the deep cuts, the torn flesh, and their wounds—all because of her. I used to love her pale, soft hands; she once caressed my cheeks with such gentleness. How ironic to realize those same hands had been used to eliminate innocent people.

A harsh sick acid from the pit of my stomach went to my throat and I immediately covered my mouth with my palm. Her eyes narrowed with confusion but the hatred is still there. I know she couldn't give two fucks if I get sick in this very moment. I couldn't stop the images from flashing my mind. It consumed me.

"Don't give me that, another tactic of your escapes?" she said as she shoved both of her hands to her pockets. I glared at her to death. Did she really think I was making a show to escape? She's a monster for putting those images in my mind.

"How could you hurt them... Kill them?" I managed to say that aloud even though my stomach is already turning over. She didn't show any emotion, there's no guilt or shame. There's only emptiness, blankness, and void. That explained her whole character, she doesn't possess emotions, feelings, or fucking guilt.

"We're at battle, the thing that your little mind couldn't comprehend when you took their side." she said as her eyes stared at the depth of my soul. I scoffed in bitterness.

"Battle? So it's your duty to cut children's throats, to butcher their bodies like animals? Hell, even animals don't deserve that. Have you killed someone before coming to my place?" My hands were shaking while waiting for her response. I prayed that she wouldn't say the exact thing I was thinking of. I hope she didn't do it, I can't take it. That will lose my sanity.

She remained silent while staring at me. My vision became unclear, it's blurred. Then I realized I was already crying. My heart is mourning for every single person that went to her brutal hands, each of them didn't deserve it. No one deserved it.

"Do you really want to ask me that?" she said as she leaned against the door.

The look of realization plastered on my face. The hint behind her words just confirmed my exact thoughts. The disgust, fear, and self-shame crept under my skin like a poison. I couldn't take it anymore, as soon as my eyes saw the silver door, I knew it was a comfort room. I rushed towards it as I poured all of my guts out in the toilet. I pant as the realization started to kill me slowly. All this time, when we do the thing, those hands that she used to touch me were the same hands that she used to murder them.