Sub Zero

Chapter Fifteen

My sleep is disturbed by the sound of the door banging open. I awake with a start, almost slamming my head against the wall as I jerk up from Finn's shoulder. In seconds, we are both up on our feet, balls of flame and ice gathered within our palms in an instant.

A soldier enters the room. Her black hair is pulled back in a tight braid, and excruciatingly straight bangs are cut just above charcoal-grey eyes that lack all emotion but hatred.

"Prisoners thirty three and twenty seven; I have been ordered to escort you to Lord Torren's private quarters. You shall not speak or show any form of resistance. If you do, your punishment will be more severe, and your execution date, if decided, will be moved back a day."

The young girl speaks with an unnatural amount of authority. She can't be any older than I am, and yet she seems to be as disciplined as any adult can be.

"Understood?" She asks calmly. She is answered with silence. She nods curtly. "Follow me."

He strange girl turns stiffly and marches out of the room at an extremely swift pace. We have no choice but to follow her. Finn stands by my side, and we both jog past the metal door to catch up, which immediately slams shut behind us.

We walk briskly down a passageway made entirely of cement. I suddenly begin to feel very claustrophobic.  The walls seem to look like they're caving in on us. I grab Finn's arm in a rush of  panic, and am immediately soothed.

Blinding lights are strung from the low ceiling, and multiple security cameras are spaced out between them. A damp corner of the ceiling is clotted with mold and mildew. I shudder.

The hall turns sharply to the left, and for a second, we lose sight of the soldier. I draw in an unsteady breath. Finn pulls me closer to him, but I can tell that he's as stiff and rigid with worry as I am.

We turn around the corner and quicken our pace to catch up with the girl, who is making her way down a flight of concrete stairs that lead into darkness. We reluctantly follow her.

The darkness is thick and smothering. It seems to be alive. I feel the need to cough, but no sound comes out. I am suddenly reminded of my dream, and I begin to shiver, holding on to Finn as tight as I can without strangling him.

The stairs end abruptly, and I barely can catch myself from falling. The ground levels out, and feels smooth and cold on my bare feet. The darkness allows no sense of smell, sound, or speech. I can only feel the heavy burden of the dark, and taste the sourness of the supernatural air.

There's no telling how long we've been here. Of course, there's no telling how long we've been in the tunnels either. It's felt like months, but of course, time itself is disoriented when you've been in a coma.

The darkness seems to be crushing my lungs. I can feel Finn's  hand trembling slightly as he seems to be struggling to draw in the precious air that his own lungs so desperately need. I squeeze his hand reassuringly, trying to let him know that I also am familiar with the strange pain.

My terrible dream flashes through my mind again. I shut my useless eyes tight, trying to forget the sense of hopelessness that I felt then, and unfortunately, now. I just couldn't shake the feeling that Finn would suddenly disappear and leave me alone in this awful darkness.

For the first time in my life, I began to dread death. I want to make something of myself.

Also, does Finn really like me? After all, we've just met. Of course, I've never known anything about love. I was positive that I'd be single forever. I'm pretty sure that there's not a lot of boys that would find a girl
that looks like a worn out piece of linen "attractive".

I suddenly feel a gust of air brush against my left cheek. The strange girl turns left, and I follow her obediently. Although, I feel like I have to practically drag the ever-so-reluctant red-head.

The soldier stands, waiting, her  unnaturally disciplined posture silhouetted by a bright beam of light.  Light! I almost give a silent shout of joy, but a wave of nausea suddenly hits me with full force.

I double over, black spots dotting my vision. I start to feel as if I have a fever.  I try to use my neurological ice magic to cool myself off. The cool tingling sensation never comes, and I fall to my knees from the draining effort. I desperately try to create a ball of ice, then a small snowflake, but nothing happens. The familiar comfort of my magic has vanished, and I'm left with a void of emptiness that wedges itself into my chest.