Only Through Pain [Collab with kayfiles]

Chapter Three [ZiaRenee]

Kitra tried to turn away from the grizzly sight of Patricia's mangled body, but she could hardly even breathe, let alone move. There was an awful smell emitting from Patricia's carcass and the pieces of her flesh sliding down the wall. It smelled like somebody was burning rotten meat. As Kitra got a closer look at what was left of Patricia on the floor beside her, she saw that the heap of shredded clothes and cracked bones were black and ashy as if the whole room had been set ablaze. Kitra's head was swimming with questions and fears. She felt dizzy and her entire body ached. She could feel the broken bones and the blood at the corners of her mouth. She figured she'd die like this, surrounded by blood, bone and vomit. She was ready. She had nothing left. Everything was gone.

The tears began sliding down her cheeks, washing away the blood, and her chest shook with painful sobs. She was alone and she was going to die. She had been in this room for so long and she would never see the sun again. She would never know what roses smelled like or how it felt to hold a lover. She would never know so many things. She would rot in this dank, dark room. She would become nothing more than another corpse.

And as these thoughts enveloped her and a great sadness latched onto her heart, the door to the house opened and a single pair of footsteps could be heard.

Kitra stopped choking on her tears and listened as hard as she could. The footsteps were light and steady. She didn't hear the rotting wood stairs creak as the person walked up them and she didn't hear the floorboards moan as they walked down the hall. Suddenly, Kitra was overtaken with a feeling she hadn't felt in years. Many, many long years. She couldn't quite place it, but her dying heart sped up in her chest and she felt warm all over. When the footsteps finally reached her door, she understood. She was experiencing hope. This was the first person she'd see in years other than Patricia. This person could save her. They would see her twisted body and save her. They would call for help and they would tell her it would be okay and she would believe them. She would finally believe it.

But then another feeling crept through Kitra's body. The walls were stained with Patricia's blood. Her corpse lay just beside Kitra, a hollow, mauled shell. The stench in the room was unbearable. Patricia was very obviously dead, blown to bits and flung all over the walls. Kitra was the only other person in the room. She was far too weak to explain. They might condemn her. They might lock her up in a different dark, cold room. They would take her away, sure, but she'd be in a place no better. The crippling fear took hold of Kitra and she wanted to scream, but she just choked and heaved, her twisted body flailing about on the ground. She coughed out blood and continued to panic as the feet drew closer.

She saw the person kneel down beside her. Kitra's worry grew worse and she began wheezing and gasping as her body fought to move, fought to get away. The pain was thick and heavy and her mind was clouded with a hazy fog. She was slipping, exerting all her energy into getting away instead of staying alive. A hand rested on her chest and she flailed harder, desperately trying to form words and explain. Her eyes were wide with horror but she could only see Patricia's corpse at her side. Tears started pooling around her head and she felt another hand on her arms, holding her down. She struggled, her body going numb as she began slipping into unconsciousness. The pain from the beating was too much and all her wild flailing was taking it's toll. Her eyes began to flutter closed and her breathing slowed until it was almost inaudible. Her heart was failing. Her brain was rotting. Her body went still, limp, cold.

A voice entered her head.

It was low and sweet. It was reassuring and kind. It was smooth and it flowed into her thoughts like a waterfall. "It's okay now," it spoke to her. It was a man's voice. Kitra suddenly felt safe. She felt warm and relieved. "I understand," it said to her. She realized what it was referring to. The blood, the foul odor, the chain in pieces on the floor. It was like the voice was seeping into her memory's, trying to understand all of her. "You'll be safe now." it cooed. She could've sworn she felt the hands lift her off the ground, but at that point, everything went black and she couldn't even ask the name of her savior. She imagined he must've been an Angel to be able to peer into her mind like that. With this image of splendid wings and golden gates, Kitra fell into unconsciousness, the echo of the sweet voice lulling her into pleasant dreams which she hadn't had in ages.

When she awoke, she was in a bed. A real bed, not just a pile of dirty rags on the floor. She could feel the silky sheets on her skin, the wool blanket pulled over her and tucked under her body, the soft and plush pillow beneath her head. Suddenly, the violent images of what had happened ripped through her mind. She saw Patricia's wild face coming towards her. Kitra began thrashing violently, the terrors taking over until she could no longer stand it. She screamed, her voice sounding like she was swallowing shattered glass. Hands gripped Kitra's arms and pinned her down, but she only saw Patricia, her dirty hands reaching for her and wrestling her to the floor.

Kitra couldn't hear the other voices as she screamed in agony and fear.

"Hold her down, hold her down!" one shouted.

"We have to inject her! She won't stop, she can't hear us!" another hollered.

"No, get him before her Karma awakens! We don't know what she's capable of yet!" a third voice barked.

A few moments later of Kitra's wild flailing, a man entered the room. He was calm as he strode over to her bedside. He placed a hand over her chest and the other on her head. Kitra was still. Silent. She began to breathe normally and the multiple pairs of hands holding her down released their tight grip. The voice came into her mind again.

"You are safe. You were having a nightmare, Kitra." it assured her.

Kitra's eyes fluttered open and she looked around, ultimately blinded by the bright lights. As her eyes adjusted, she gazed upon the faces of the three men that had held her down. They all wore long, white coats, much like a nurse outfit. Two of them had sandy blonde hair and the third had dark, brown hair that fell in curls around his face. They gave her weak smiles, the sweat dripping off their noses. She had put up quite a fight. They left the room and she was alone with the man at her bedside. Kitra twisted her head up to study him.

He was old.

Every inch of him was covered in wrinkles. His skin was a dark mahogany which was quite the contrast with his snow white hair. He had a short beard cut close to his face in much the same fashion as the hair on his head was cut close to his scalp. He looked quite professional. He wore a brilliant blue suit. It looked expensive. He was rather tall and although it was hard to tell, he seemed like he might have a rather toned and muscular build. Although he looked crisp and clean, he was also beautiful in an odd way. Kitra couldn't help but stare at him, for his face was breathtaking. He was not handsome, but there was something about him. He definitely had authority, but that was not what caught her attention. He looked... safe. Kind and warm. His eyes were welcoming as she looked up into the wondrous pools of green. It was like looking into a fresh field of grass after a warm rain. It was sweet and lovely. His mouth was pulled into a soft smile as he gazed down at her. The way he looked at her, as if she were special and wonderful, made Kitra feel truly remarkable. He made her feel safe and good. He made her feel hopeful. Like she now had a reason to keep going.

And this made him beautiful.

As her mind began to wander with thoughts, she finally breathed out a question and the man removed his hands from her body and folded them behind his back.

"Where am I?" she said quietly. Her voice was raspy and dry. She looked around and saw that she was in a completely barren, white room. The only things in it were a small stand and the bed. It was huge and covered in beautiful orange of every shade, like she were resting on a sunset. The sheets were orange, the pillow was orange, the quilts were orange. It was soft and warm and she felt at peace nestled in this bed. She continued to look around and pushed up against the wall was the small stand. It had a cool glass of clear water and several apple slices. She reached out, but it was too far. The room was rather large. The man saw her struggling and he walked over to the food and drink and held it out to her. Kitra began to sit up and a dull ache throbbed in her body. She threw the blankets off of her and saw that she was naked, but her body was wrapped in cloth and bandages. They had fixed her up. But she hadn't imagined it would have been so easy. She was near death, but her body looked completely unscathed and she only felt a very dull pain. The bandages were not soaked in red and the bruises she knew she should have were no longer where she figured they should be. She was healed. She could have gotten up and did jumping jacks if she really wanted.

Kitra turned to the man and took the things he held out to her. After swallowing the apple slices in three bites and drowning in the cool water, she posed her question again. "Where am I?" Her voice was still dainty and quiet, but she felt refreshed.

"You, my dear, are at Safe Haven." the man replied.