Beautiful Darkness

➵The Interrogator

It takes several minutes to realize where I am, who I am. Memories flash in my mind like a slideshow. The fight, the fire, Antonis. It starts to make sense why I am in a cellar-type room tied to a chair. It is completely dark except a single light bulb dangling in the center of the room.

Somebody sure knows how to treat a lady.

A large mirror is set up on one of the walls. The placement is so random and inconvenient that it is rather obviously a one-sided window. I sigh deeply and pull against the tight ropes wrapped around my skin.

"Is this entirely necessary?" The irritation laced in my voice is very evident. The only reply is silence. That particular response is becoming more and more frequent.

I take a few moments to piece together recent events. Iden is safe with Orion and Cora. Everyone should already be at the capital. I was captured... because I have the gift?

The gift.

The lives I ended flash in my head face by face, scream by scream. A part of me is horrified at the pain and destruction I caused. Another part is glad I weakened the Light's army- regardless of how many. I inwardly cringe at my own self monologue

I cannot afford to be conflicted or disgusted by my actions. Emotions will leave me vulnerable and exposed. The only way I will get out of this alive is by playing this twisted game strategically and gathering my strength. The thought reminds my muscles to ache and a piercing headache to buzz throughout my skull.

"The gift" is more like a pain in my ass.

A low grumble sustains in my throat at my current situation. How will I ever make it across the provinces?

The loud groaning of a steel metal door bounces across the concrete walls. A male with a lean figure and choppy black hair emerges. He looks no older than sixteen. I can instantly tell he is a human. The boy is carrying a small tray with a glass of water and a single piece of bread. His eyes hit the floor in a submissive manor as if all he's ever known is fear. What angle is Antonis playing?

"What's your name?" I croak with parched lips.

"Dakota." His voice is low and raspy as if he hasn't used it for a long period of time. With my eyes searching over him he begins to squirm uncomfortably. He grabs the water and brings it close to my face. It scrapes against my lips as the heavenly liquid slides down my burning throat. The relief is apparent and I sigh in comfort.

Next, Dakota rips the bread into smaller pieces and feeds them to me. The food itself is disgusting and stale but my rumbling stomach accepts gratefully. I scarf the substance down and it is gone all too quickly. The boy bows his head in a respectful display then quickly rushes out.

The lack of noise has the most impact. It creeps into your mind and forces itself to reveal your inner thoughts and opinions. Before long my mind returns to my family, trying to memorize all their features and every conversation I had ever had with any of them. A small frown implants itself on my face.

I try to keep track of time but I find it nearly impossible. I count seconds that convert into minutes that drag into hours. I estimate a mere four hours have passed before the door opens a second time. The grinding metal is loud and obnoxious and by the way it slowly opens I know it is not the boy from before who stood behind me.

"Princess Arailia." A crisp, breathy voice clawed through the darkness of the dimly lighted room. It was the type of voice that stopped you dead in your tracks and kept your heart racing into overtime.

"Who are you?"

"You have some information I need." The masculine voice states completely ignoring my question. He remains hidden in the shadows of the room after closing the door behind him. In mere seconds the battered lightbulb burns out.

"Who are you?" I repeat myself. The only reply I receive is the sound of footsteps. He bats me aside like a pest.

"Did you kill those soldiers in the clearing?" His question is obvious. Everyone knows the answer. I sense this is meant to test my cooperation. I seal my lips shut. These people deserve no compliance.

"I will repeat myself only once more, Arailia. For your sake, let us hope you answer. We can do this the hard way if necessary," The menace in his voice is clear as day. He will not hesitate to hurt me to get what he wants. I need to play my cards right.

"Yes," My voice stumbles only slightly as I compose myself.

"How?"

"The gift."

A small fit of laughter takes over the room. It vibrates against the stone walls and rotting floor.

"You would not know what the gift was if it smacked you in the face, child."

"Antonis was a witness. I do not need to prove myself to you." My defiance silences him if only for a moment. A hard hand backhands me across the face. My left cheek burns along with my anger. I struggle against the ropes to retaliate. The man steps closer and tightly grabs my neck.

"You will show some respect, you filthy creature." He spits. The man is near enough that I can see pure white eyes beneath a hood covering the rest of his features. I nod slightly in understanding and once he releases me I gasp for air. I bite the inside of my cheeks hard enough to draw blood in order to stop myself from speaking.

"What gift do you possess?" The interrogator continues his questions.

"I am not sure." My answer is vague but he does not press the matter.

"Do you know how many lives you have taken?" A dangerous edge to his voice surfaces.

"Twenty-six." I stare straight ahead to object weakness.

"Twenty-six... innocent lives slaughtered because of you and your genetic temper. When will your kind realize you are all poison? You manipulate and seduce everything in your path until you destroy it. Is that the life you are fighting so desperately for?" His accusations ring throughout the piercing silence.

"I would rather fight for any sliver of a chance to have freedom and end this war. Your King has manipulated you into believing we are the enemy, all because he craves power and dominance. The Dark Elfin are only feared because we are different. At least we accept who we are than hiding behind a shell of a human being you are pretending to be." My oxygen deprived lungs ache after my rant.

"How did you kill them? Did you enjoy it, watching the life drain out of their eyes as blood flowed freely from them?" His questions cut deeper than any blade could.

"I did not enjoy it." My voice is strong, confident, but not completely honest.

"Liar." He bites the word and chews it out, spitting it in my face. It feels as though he has slapped me again. Every inch of me feels raw.

"I did not enjoy taking a mother, a brother, a son, from this world. I did not enjoy slaughtering them all like they were pigs to be butchered." My words are completely truthful.

"But you did enjoy ripping open a couple Light Elfin. You liked feeling powerful, being in control. You liked winning. You loved the feeling of destruction within you if only for a moment."

I do not answer any more questions. That action alone must have answered him.

The interrogator must have gotten all he needed because after a while he simply left. The silence once again left me with my thoughts.

*****************

The surrounding hours continued this way. Dead silence seduced by complete darkness. I questioned if I was alive at times as I was unable to see my own skin. The thought of death scared me more than I would care to admit.

So my days continued this way. One glass of water along with a single piece of bread. A few streaks of light every so often. No more questions.

Antonis was starving me. He wanted me kept alive yet only barely. This way I would be unable to resist. It was only a matter of time before the real questions would be asked. What would protect me then?