Finding My Lost Memories

Prologue

Prologue

          Darkness. It is all I can see from all sides, caressing me as though a lover would do to their other half. It is cold, and I feel as though I am lying on a rock ground with patches of hay here and there. I am on my side, and my ribs feel bruised, if not cracked. My back is protesting greatly for me to not stay in this position.

          I sit up and get my bearings. With the slight amount of hazy light coming through a few small bars that seems to be acting as a window, I realize I am in a cell. And this is no ordinary cell. This is a cell made for torture; torture of the supernatural kind. Iron shackles are laying in a corner for fairies; manacles with crosses around them for restraining vampires around their waist, neck, wrists, and ankles are on the wall to the right of me. On the wall to my left is an identical set of manacles put up the same way as the vampire’s was; only they were made of silver. A shiver trails its way up my back to my neck leaving me cold.

          What is this place? What am I doing here? Where am I? Who am I? Only one word comes to my mind. Jacquelyn. That must be my name.

          The next thing I know someone whips open the door. I didn’t even hear the rustling of keys. Was I in an unlocked cell this whole time?

          The man roughly grips my arm and pulls me up. While he pulled me up I stumbled, so he smacked my head and yelled angrily, “Get up before I cut off your legs!” This causes me to cringe, but I do as he says. Once I am steadily standing, he pulls me out into the hallway.

I wince at the sudden light that comes from kerosene lamps hung up throughout the hallway. The man hands me over to a different boy, around the age of 22. The other man walks away, without looking back. I take a look at the man with my left arm in his large hand. He is big, about 6’3’’, black wind blown looking hair, and brown eyes. His nose is offset, showing him having many broken noses over the years. His skinny lips are in a tight, strait line. His jaw has a very deep dimple in his chin. As if feeling me staring at him, he looks down at me with his cold, hard stare. I quickly look away.

Sensing him still looking at me, I get annoyed. “Ever heard that staring is rude?” I ask and he smirks.

“I was just returning the gesture. Isn’t that what you were doing not two minutes ago?” he asks and I can’t help but feel like there is some slight truth to it. But still…

“Yeah, but if you were kidnapped and then dragged out of a room, wouldn’t you want to look at your captor?” I retort.

“No. I wouldn’t bother looking at them, I’d be too busy kicking their-“

“Damion? Making a new friend I see? Well don’t bother, she looks weak and will probably be dead by morning.” A strange man in a black cloak says. I cannot say anything else about him; his hood of the black cloak covers his face, the sleeves covering his hands, with a belt of weapons around his waist.

I hadn’t realized until now, but Damion is wearing the same thing only his sleeves are pulled up, and his hood is down.

“Friend? Come on, old man, you know none of them ever really like me.”

“No, but you do. Let me guess, this girl here is cocky, and is one of the few who actually dare to give your crap right back at you? “

Damion nodded.

The man continued “Yes, I can see it in her eyes, hidden beneath the fear. But trust me Damion; she looks too frail to last through the night. Every time you find someone who actually talks to you, you befriend them, even if the friendship is the smallest thing ever, and then when they die, you wear your hood up the next day to hide your mourning. You think none of us notice it, but I do. The others may be blind idiots, but I see you. Stop this. You are supposed to be remorseless. Get over the prisoners. Get over this girl before it starts.”