Heavenly Fire

Chapter 3

For the second time that day, Aaron awoke dazed in strange surroundings. Prying open his eyes once more, he found himself in a dark room built of grey stone with rocky flooring. Tall bars held him in his prison and an iron shackle with little lee-way for movement was bonded around his wrist. He pulled violently with his trapped wrist but was brought to a pain searing stop. Demon iron. The shackles burnt and a red ring wrapped around his wrist, showing his sign of struggle.

He slumped against the wall defeated, his knees brought to his chest and arms slumped across them. His head laid upon his arm and an unwilling tear rolled down his flushed cheek. He was enraged. Why was he here, when he was suppose to dead? Why was he being punished? The treatment was appalling, border line torture, Aaron thought after only a few hours of his arrival. He was sure these conditions were illegal in all states and countries, so why must he suffer?

Most of all, he was scared. What was going to happen here? He knew nothing good could come of this. He wanted to go home. He wanted the safety of his home, for his mother to tell him everything was okay. But none of this was okay. He may never see his family again. He would even have welcomed a lecture from his father if it meant he could leave this place forever.

"He's in the cells." Said a husky female voice. "We thought you might want to meet this one, sir."

"Very well." A deep voice almost whispered.

Aaron quickly wiped his eyes free of tears and laid back on the metal plated bed with his arms placed under his head. He made himself comfortable, to look casual and show he had no fear. The biggest facade he would ever carry out, the biggest lie he would ever tell.

"Get up." Said the girl.

He lazily turned his head toward the voice and recognised the icy eyes. She was hot, Aaron thought. The curvature of her waist was sculptured to perfection and her legs were slender and tempting. Her lips were a straight line, pure and simple, but he could only imagine the power they must hold, the lust they must control.

Aaron slowly moved into a sitting position and rubbed the back of his neck. He turned to face her and looked right past her, rather than at her.

"I'm sorry, Princess. If I knew you were coming I would of jazzed up the place." He spoke sarcastically.

"I'm sure you would." She smiled harshly.

"The cleaner here is rather inept and the service is just simply shocking." He carried on.

A hollow laugh came from the figure next to Vega, his identity hidden in the shadows. Aaron could tell this guy held great authority, but how much was really an unanswered question. Perhaps it was better that way, why fear the unknown when it is knowledge that should be feared? Knowing a situation is bad creates fear of failing progression, where as ignorance of true importance saves us from the suffering.

"What's so special about this one?" The voice spoke slowly. "What makes him so worthy of this audience. He appears to be nothing but your average human, only with a sense of humour."

Vega whispered something in the shadow's ear, followed by the exchanging mutters. Aaron strained his ears to hear but only heard incoherent snippets, no sense could be made.

"I see." said the shadow. "You, come."

"Excuse me?" Aaron rose from the metal cot.

"Come."

"I'm sorry, but unlike princess here, I'm not your little lap dog."

"Very well."

It was then that Aaron felt the invasion of his mind. An outside force pushed through the barriers of his brain with the aim to maim. It ticked and probed looking for a weakness. Nothing happened. Absolutely nothing.