A rippling pain ran all through her back. She had to bite her lip to keep the harsh scream from ripping through her throat.
The noise came out as more of a muffled yelp. One that rings through your whole body, and makes you shake. She couldn't take it, the wrenching pain was like no other. It was as if someone was slicing her back open with nails and then sticking the nails into the now open area.
A shove like force from behind, threw her forward which really wasn't helping the situation with her back.
Come on Greyson. You can handle this. You know what to do.
"You sure do love trouble don't you?" Said a voice she knew all too well.
"It feels like trouble loves me more then I love it" She coughed out.
She turned as best as she could to face him. When she made eye contact with him she gave a the most hated look she could. She didn't know why he was here or how he was slowly killing me.
"Truly thinking about it, I don't go looking for trouble, but I do take immense attention joy in befriending it" she chime with a sickening smile like she wasn't about to faint from this pain, which she totally was.
And then it stopped. It all stopped. Greysons vision cleared and she could turn her body. She pushed herself up, finding the pain had dispersed.
"What happened?" She questioned, with a disbelieving look.
"You've finally done it. What you were born to do. You've joined us." Jack compliments, putting both of his hands of hef shoulders, like a proud father would his son after he won the state game.
She pulled away, not liking being touched, and put her hand on her hip.
"Jack what the hell do you want. It sounds like you're adding me to your secret cult" her voice was laced with accusations and sass.
"You've got business to settle. Come on" Jack gathered her wrists together and tied them and pushed her forward.
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Pro tip. When someone makes you come with them and then forcefully ties your hands behind your back, it's not a good sign.
He grabbed her hands and pulled her forward. She couldn't see because she was facing backward but a sound like paper ripping and the noise of a pebble hitting a pond, filled the air.
The hair on her neck stood up and she was forcefully pulled forward.
She finally fainted.
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When she woke up, it wasn't to the most friendly greating. Heck, it was a full blown, back handed slap to the face.
She shot straight up and looked around. All around her were strange people. Maybe, they weren't really that strange, they were just an odd group.
There were young children with ragged clothes and children with clothes from Gucci. Their age varied. Some were huddled by older men and women and some stood off to the side, all alone.
The one consistent thing among the group was how miserable they all looked. Everyone looked as if the sun had gone down and was never coming back. Their eyes held no hope. Everyone had given up on their goals.
She stood up and dusted herself off. Her hands were still tied and she was still wearing her old ratty red sweater. Though say it was red was a generous overstatement. Truly it was a faded red from all of it's years of use.
She was suddenly grabbed by the elbow again. She spun around to face the person. It was an unfamiliar old man.His face was contorted with anger, sorrow, and drunkenness. His facial features didn't hold any promises.
His face hadn't been shaved in a good few months. He seemed to be to at least 50. His dark blue eyes were glassed over and had bad intentions. His body was run down and old.
"Well aren't you pretty, you'll go for a lot on the market. I'll finally get out of this chamber" his croaky voice spoke like it was as natural as night and day.
"Market?" She scoffed "no thanks" she didn't know what she wanted in life but she certainly couldn't get it if she was sold to someone as property.
His nails started to dig into her arm and she felt that childhood fear creep back up her neck.
It was sudden and confusing but her back felt like someone had lit it on fire. The flame like feeling ripping her back open with pure force. The torturing pain came to an end and a large gust of wind blew behind me and suddenly she had two extra weights holding her down.
Everyone gasped and stared just past me. She glanced around and was met with a wall of grey feathers and fluff. She gasped and stepped forward and they fallowed
She looked straight up and could see the end of two giant grey wings. She reached behind herself and felt those exact two wings connect to her own back. The area where they connected was raw and painful.
Soon two hands grabbed her arms and the man who previously stood there was gone.
She glanced back at the two people. They were dressed like old fashioned guards and noticably had a gun pointing out of their belt.
They shoved her forward, twords the gateway.
All of the faces stared. Some with despair and powerlessness. Others had blank stares forward like if they didn't acknowledge this was happening then it wasn't real.
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She don't really understand how she got there but she was suddenly in a damp and musty room that reaked of musk.
Her wings, or the fluff pounds now growing from her back, had tucked back into her back and were out of sight. Her hands were now chained above her head by and the only source of light was from the light under the door.
The door slammed close and she could now make out a figure next to her. There was actually a small window that wasn't visible before that casted a shadow over him.
The body was small like that of a poorly feed child. He had blond hair that hung over his eyes and his body hung limp.
She glanced up at the chains that bound her wrists up and tugged and yanked, desperate to get free. She was never good at just sitting. She had time to think when she sat down and past experiences often caught up with her.
"Stop" his voice broke through the silence and the metal clanking.
"Trust me, I've tried" his voice was silvery and was that of a young boy.
She stared at him with her mouth agape. He turned his head and let the hair that fell Infront of his left eye fall out of the way. He gave a small crooked smile.
I shut my mouth and just stared at his blue eyes. They held a sort of despair and gentleness.
"What week is it?" He said with a little hope flickering in his eyes.
"It's the second week of January" she said confused
