Unspoken

Chapter 55

"Still alive, are you?" The light slowly flickers on. I knew who was on the other side of it before he was illuminated. I growl at Michael, but don't give him any words. He's not worth a single one.

The answer to his question, though, is that I'm barely alive. Without food and drink, I don't know how much longer I can survive. But Christopher and Brody have both been warning me: everything I've been brought is contaminated by Michael's transmitters. If I consume any of it, I'll just be another of his puppets. Out of anything, I don't want to give Michael that satisfaction. I don't want to give him anything.

I try to spit at his feet, but only a couple small droplets escape my dry mouth. They slowly dribble down my chin. I shudder as Michael begins to laugh, his silver hair bouncing around his long face. He brings an icy hand to my face. I don't have the strength or the motion to fight him off. He holds my face steady so I have to look into his disturbing eyes. "I know you lied to me, Taeo. I don't take lying lightly!"

Something cold presses against my leg. Before my eyes can even travel down, a blast rings through my ears.  Every muscle in my right leg burns, stings, struggles. I lean to grab my leg, but Michael brings his knee to my nose and knocks my head back. The constraints on my arms keep me from falling over. Blood rushes down my face; blood pours out of an open wound in my leg. My attempts at holding in the pain finally fail. I cry out, a blood curdling scream I didn't know I was capable of--then again, I've never felt anything as agonizing as this before.

My head is slammed into the wall. Michael keeps a hand wrapped in my hair to keep my wavering gaze up. With his free hand, he tightens each of my hand shackles. I don't realize what he's doing until my hands are immobile. My teeth are gritted so tightly together from all this jostling that I'm afraid they'll crack against each other.

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small matchbox. My labored breathing becomes harsher as he pulls two matches out. He releases my hair; I slip to the ground. A breath of relief escapes as I take the weight off my injured, bloody leg.

I have to helplessly watch as he lights one match and throws it to his left; then the other to his right. At first the flames don't catch, but after a moment they begin to sprout. Small flames start to flicker on either side of me. I look to Michael in a panic. What is he doing?

With a victorious smile, he pulls a book out from behind his back. It's old with a worn, colored cover, a book from the twentieth century. I can smell the yellow of the pages past the metallic scent of my blood. After a few moments, I realize what I'm looking at.

It's my book.

I become aware of how light my jacket is against my side. The outline of the book isn't embedded into it. The flames in my eyes burn brighter than the fire sprouting around me as I glare at Michael for stealing my most prized, important possession during my unconsciousness.

"Did you think I wouldn't find out about this? I'm not a fool. I keep close tabs on all of you, especially you, Taeo. I always figured you'd end up against me. I saw it in your eyes when I met you."

The flames are growing large now. The group on my left is nearing me. The room has grown suffocatingly hot as the wood begins to burn. Sweat rolls down my face and soaks my clothes; my leg throbs from the terrible mixture of heat and agony. I groan deeply, holding a cascade of tears in.

Michael takes a slow step away. He holds the book away from his body like it's a virus. To him, it is. "The moment I realized you had this journa;, I knew I couldn't keep you around. Knowing my plan was one thing--I was content on keeping you down here until it couldn't be ruined. This book means something entirely different. Having someone who will ruin everything I've worked to create is an obstacle I hoped I wouldn't have to cross. And now I won't. You and this book, Taeo, everything is stands for--" His fingers begin to loosen their hold as a crowd of flames edges toward him. "Will burn."

The book drops slowly. It flutters to the flames like a feather, prolonging the pain for as long as possible. The paper is quickly turned black as the fire embraces it. The pages feed the fire. It surges even stronger than before.

Reality sets in as I watch the words burn away like they'd never even existed. The heat surrounding me becomes even more present, even more daunting as the journal disappears from sight.

I'm going to die.

Michael saunters out of the room with a victorious smile on his face as he reads the defeat on my own. I'm about to burn just like that book. As if to affirm the fact, the fire beside me intensifies. The flames slide across my face, my left shoulder, burning the skin underneath. I'm numb to the pain. Everything hurts already, but it won't hurt soon.

Michael disappears. He said something, but my ears can't hear anything. Everything is completely quiet. Not even the roar of the flames shifts through my eardrums.

--

A/N:

Two more chapters to go! (Well, three, but I'm updating twice next Friday so that kind of counts as one chapter, right?)

We're almost there! We've almost made it to the end. And there is still so much more to happen! Just you wait, team!

Thanks for sticking it out with me this far. Just keep your eyes peeled for an ending you won't forget!

See you next Friday!

Alisha :)