Remember

Chapter 2:

     (Notes at end, please read.)

     Chapter 2:

     The room is large and open, though unlike the castle this place is full of colors darker than a bloody red. I remember glancing to a window and seeing the ground out beyond these walls, when the General had me. The ground here is a pale yellow-white. The people are tall; skin distorted in particular places and some even possessing the wings of a dragon, like...

     Shivering, I sniffle, wiping at the tears spilling helplessly down my cheeks. I miss you... As I sit in a corner, alone in the darkness, I wait for someone- anyone to come find me. I'm in his territory, though. No one is coming for me. It's cold here, so much colder than hell. I see no fires, no stones of a glowing nature, no charred ground that easily catches flame... nothing. It's just... cold. I sit here freezing, a thin blanket all I have to wrap around me, while everyone else runs around nearly naked.

     The glass doors to the balcony are suddenly open, and from across the room the man standing there looks like a demon. Eyes glowing a dark purple, the slits in his eyes a lighter shade of the colors. His wings outstretch to block out most of the moon, that faintly noticeable smirk on his face as everything about him is purely black, and screams death.

     "Come here, slave." I wipe away the remaining tears on my face and quietly sniffle, standing up and slowly approaching this man. This king. This killer. Word of this man spread like wildfire when the gods found out what he'd done. Hero was especially concerned. I remember Hero describing this man's parents to me. They weren't dictators, and this man didn't grow up with that influence. What eventually caused him to be like this no one knows, or no one cares to share. He just snapped. I stop, standing merely a foot away from him. I don't look up at him.

     The man spins me around so suddenly that I nearly fall from having lost my balance. The white strap he wraps around my neck prevents me from falling down, though, and with how tight he's tightening this collar it won't just prevent me from falling, but breathing too. I bring my hands to the white dyed leather and grip at it, the collar no longer being tightened as now this man must be satisfied.

     "You are to never take this off- do you understand me?" His hot breath against my ear brings a shiver down my spine as I flinch and nod. This man grabs me by my hips, fingers long and slender. I can feel his claws as he yanks me close, and I begin to shake. My back bumps his chest. He's strong. "I want you to go into the bathroom, and strip yourself." He mumbles directly into my ear, his grip tightening on my hips. His claws are long, and his nails are sharp. They begin to pierce into my flesh as I bite my tongue. He chuckles, lips so close to my ear that he's basically kissing it.

     He suddenly tosses me away with so much force that I stumble to the ground, landing on my side as I quickly scurry to me feet, putting pressure on my hurt wrist. I pull the wrist against my chest and face the man, biting my bottom lip now. He lifts a hand, but only to motion towards the door across the room.

     "The bathroom is right over there." He calmly points out, smiling. That smile turns to a wicked, evil grin very quickly, the slits in his eyes thinning. "And if you aren't stripped out of every article of clothing by the time I walk in there, I'm going to rip your clothing straight from your skin." I don't move, petrified as the color leaves my face. "10." He begins to bare his teeth in his sick smile.

     I run across the room so fast that everything begins to spin, and I stumble into the door, light headed. I hear him quietly call out the number nine. I open the bathroom door and I'm met by a pitch black wall. Oh god. I hear him call eight. I step inside, closing my eyes tightly and slamming the door behind me. It's so dark that even if my eyes were open my vision wouldn't change, and I begin to strip out of my clothing. I'm shaking so badly, and from in here I can't hear him counting. Just undress yourself. The shirt I'm wearing is just plain black, and there isn't anything special about it other than it being made of hell fabric. The fabrics people dress themselves with down in hell are different from normal fabrics; they keep us cool. My long yoga pants are made of hell fabric as well, and are also, completely black. My long sleeved, somewhat ripped shirt easily slips up over my head and I throw it randomly at the ground, wincing as my wrist burns in pain. Damn it. I grab at my ankle length pants and tug them off, not even bothering with my shoes as I kick my pants off.