Power

Yet Again Rejected by death

Pain. It was a familiar feeling, but not enough for me to feel numb, not enough for me to shake the feeling of betrayal away, not enough for it to hurt less. I lay curled on the hard, dirty, cold floors of a cell, drowning in my disbelief and confusion.

How?

How could I have missed the signs that Isabel was not my friend? Perhaps because there were none. I rummaged my memories long and hard for a simple frown, questionable behavior, or signs of secret animosity directed at me, but I found none. Issi-Isabel was always smiling.

Always smiling.

She aided me and brought me to her pack, so I didn't understand why she waited all that time, or was it that she knew who I was from the start? Why? Was whatever in that sack more valuable to her than my life?

I wished it was all a dream, but I knew my reality was anything but. This could be the final day I breathed air, but my heart was far too broken and wounded for my thoughts to focus on the possibility. "Get her out of there; we need to get this over with before the others find out." A female voice spoke. Keys rattled, and cell doors were thrown open, yet the echoes did not disturb my trance. Cold, strong hands hauled me up, and my brain chose to function briefly as I attempted to get free. "Don't even think about it." A tall, tanned, dark-haired witch scoffed as my hands gripped my throat and I gasped for air. I could feel my breath slowly leaving me.

"I wouldn't do anything stupid if I were you fish. Let's just make this easier for everyone, okay?" The witch went on, her steely eyes filled with contempt for me. My breathing returned to normal, and I collapsed to the ground, inhaling as much air as I could.

"Let's just get this over with Jane before she decides to use her powers on us, or worse, before Gerda finds out about this." The other witch said.

"She won't. Take her to the ring. She doesn't know how to use her powers anyway." Jane scoffed.

The words stabbed me like a dagger because it meant that Isabel had told these witches and maybe countless others that I was a mermaid who could not control my powers. She was supposed to be my friend. With each stride I made, panic seized me. This could not be the end. I had been running for so long that my mind refused to grasp that this was the end, but something inside me was relieved at the thought. My pulse raced as the hands of death stretched for me.

We came upon a large glass tank filled with deep blue salty waters. I looked around confused. I didn't remember John mentioning that the ritual required a tank, but then again, I wasn't a mermaid back then. "What-" before I could finish my words, green dust collided with my face, and I blocked out. I really should be given an award for always passing out. It seemed to be my specialty these days.

My eyes fluttered open to a bland gray ceiling. I was back on the floor. "Are you sure this is a good idea, Jane? I mean, what if she's not strong enough?"

I tried to move my fingers but nothing.

"That's why we have the tank, Clara, so if she's not strong enough in human form, we throw her in there and try again while she's a fish. Look, Clara, I don't care if she lives or dies; I just want the vorm."

What on earth were they going on about? I tried to move my legs...still nothing. It must have been a spell. Great, I was helpless once again. After many failed attempts, I couldn't tell if death was flirting with me or rejecting me.

"Won't they notice if it suddenly goes missing since they need it to revive the dark queen, and how do we know if the vorm is even inside her?"

"W...what's going on?" I managed to get out. If only my powers would decide to kick in. Maybe dying didn't seem so horrible a few seconds before, but the notion that I would die a torturous death that would release an evil, power-hungry witch on the earth terrified me. The two witches ignored me and continued.