The Winter Song

9 - Departure

The muttering only lasted around two minutes, which can seems like years when your life is so filled with unknowns.

There was so much questions, and yet so many more answers. And answers flew around this room like a treacherous hurricane. But I didn't know all the questions yet. I prayed to God I would soon but somewhere in the back of my mind, I didn't think I truly ever would.

Words swirled around the room then flashed into then ran around my head as I tried to store it all, to make sense of it, to savour it and to retain it all.

Unfortunately, I don't doubt that I got nothing useful.

My eyes were still covered but I suddenly sensed someone above me and I felt my heart speed up a little.

I flatted my hands to make them look natural, like I was sleeping rather than getting ready to punch someone.

My face became neutral, composed and silent.

Almost like a corpse.

My muscles were relaxed and I had pushed most of my energy into composing my breathing yet the woman spoke like I was vibrant and sitting in front of her, drinking a cup of tea all while nodding along in agreement with a comfortable smile on my face to every strange thing she said.

"I know you're awake, girl," she told me. Her voice was calm and gentle as if speaking to a young child she loved. And yet she also sounded, sort of smug.

"I watched your leg twitch when The Captain said the girl." She sounded raspy like, older, elderly even. And I severely hoped she was thought of as the crazy elderly lady no one would ever believe.

"There is no need to panic, girl. For I've been watching you closely, closer, than any of the others could ever imagine. There was no one else who caught you, girl. Do not worry." Her speech worried me to no end, but not so much because she had caught me but more because of who would catch her.

"And yes," she said, quieter this time almost as if she had read my mind.

"The girl, The Captain was talking about before," a deep breath, "was most certainly you." Her voice had taken on this haunting tone, and I concentrated on my breathing to stop myself from ripping this stupid blindfold off and beating the old lady black and blue.

"Your hands just clenched up into fists, girl. Ought to be, much more careful," she warned whispering. Then I heard the shuffling noise of her footsteps and quickly unknotted my fists. Her spooky words ran around in my head, "The girl, The Captain was talking about before, was most certainly you."

It was haunting but at least one of my questions got answered.

Even the way she phrased it was fucking creepy, was most certainly you.

The Captain had stopped the muttering by now, the power radiating off the single word he spoke that made the room silent.

"We must continue with our plan," he said to them, because he obviously had no idea I was awake and I prayed that the crazy old lady wasn't as much as a kiss-ass as that Ava chick.

"Our insiders won't be inside for much longer, if we make any sloppy moves this time." he told them, as if they were a class and he was their glorified teacher.

But, inside where?

The Empire's community? If so, why did they need insiders? They had insiders? There were rebels inside the gates of my very own home?

No, I told myself.

That wasn't my home anymore.

Those monsters had drugged me into defending them. Forcing me into a life I didn't choose to lead.

I left.

I lost her.

"We must be careful," he told them. "We must plan out everything to maximum perfection. Understood?"

Again, his tone was low and it had a sort of scary calm edge to it, as if he was calm at the moment but would break at a millisecond's notice.

His question was greeted with a series of 'Yes, sir,' or 'As you say, Captain,' or common phrases like that and I guessed some of them nodded also.

I estimated around twenty to thirty voices, not including the guards at the door or where ever the hell else they were stationed or The Captain or anyone else that was perhaps just lounging around, listening for entertainment's sake.

I mentally sigh deeply at my depressing estimated conclusion. Guess I'll just have to keep pretending to be asleep or knocked out.

"Mr. Landea!" he barked suddenly.

"Get out." His words were so clear yet so misunderstood. Was he just kicking people out the room when he decided he didn't like their hair styles anymore? What was happening?

There was a series of gasps but only a few, as it seemed no one else wanted the fate of this poor Mr. Landea.

"M-may I ask w-why, h-honored s-sir?" a stuttering, scared sounding man that was most likely Mr. Landea himself, asked. And I pictured a plump red faced man with balding hair and scared features glued onto his face.

The Captain let out an annoyed sigh, "Listen well, everyone, as I immensely detest to be forced to have to repeat myself."

He emphasized on the word, immensely, in his commanding voice.

But I don't even think he needed the introduction as everyone in the room remained dead silent. Honestly, he could have said something silly like 'mouse' or perhaps even 'sugar' and they all would have shut up instantly.

It was his voice, that tone that inflicted so many emotions of authorization and control and the volume that made it menacing. The deep brass and graveness of it that made you want to listen.

To listen, was to be intimated, controlled yet mesmerized.

"When I ask a question, I expect it to be answered curtly and immediately. Many of you followed through on this," coming from anyone else it would have been received as a simple compliment, but from The Captain it sounded like that was a law that you must obey and he was simply reminding a group of forgetful morons.

"Mr. Landea did not. He responded in the unforgiving form of a simplistic nod of his head after a total count of 47 seconds after I asked the question." His voice was the same, neutral yet intimating and angry and powerful.

"So do understand, Mr. Landea?" he asked. "Get out or I will have a guard escort you out."

"Y-yes, sir. I-I'm terribly s-sorry, sir." Landea mumbled, his already quiet voice disappearing as he rushed out of the room in disgrace.

No one dared to even gasp as he left.

"Will anyone else have the same problem as Mr. Landea?" he asked and immediately greeted with a bland chorus of 'No, sir.'

"Thank God," he muttered exasperated.

***

A/N

So I didn't get to add much of a cliff hanger at the end of this chapters but I'm posting this about a week or maybe a little more after the last chapter so be happy!

But I typed it all out today and yesterday mostly, so there's very little editing in it but don't mind that.

And also... woah... I know The Captain is my own character but he kinda scared me there too. I mean, kicking an old fat guy out of the room because he answered a few seconds late! Woah! No chill on this dude!

Anyways...... enjoy!

And I have absolutely no idea when the next part will be up because I am a random person that has a bitchy math teacher that likes to give homework every single night.

QOTD:

Do you get lots of homework from your least favorite subject too?

Love,

Nic.