The Goddess Martyr

Ch. 3 :)

Hey to anyone who's still reading, here's the next chapter, dedicated to payton3666 because payton3666 requested this chapter :) Enjoy!!

After a moment, everyone burst out talking. I heard Ryan complaining loudly that he was going to call his lawyer as soon as he could, while Ben tried to yell to me above the clamor the others were making. I noticed Kevin got out of his seat, and he cupped his hands around his mouth to yell to us to get our attention. We went silent, and I couldn’t stop staring at the large scab on his arm, as Kevin’s shaky voice addressed us, “Look, we’re all in the same boat here. It looks like that guy wants us to do something before we can even ask to be let out of here. I say we go along with him, just for now, until we have the chance to politely ask if we can be sent back.”

“Why don’t we just tell them we’ll call the police if he doesn’t let us go?” Ryan stated back heatedly, but Kevin just shook his head at him.

I spoke up, taking my chance to make Ryan look stupid in revenge for tripping me earlier, “Because he might leave us out in the wilderness alone. Or he could get scared, and lock us up. We don’t want to make him think we’re a threat, because he might do something to us.” I sent Ryan a knowing look, resisting the urge to smirk at him. He just scowled at me, opening his mouth, but getting cut off by Kevin.

“Jenson’s right. If we play it safe for now, we can get help without them noticing. So I guess we should get in a line. Who here’s the youngest?”

I stood up, well aware of everyone’s eyes on me. I tried not to let my temper get loose when Ryan smirked at me, now knowing that he was older than me. Kevin gestured for me to stand beside him, and I moved there, looking around as he got the others into line in front of me.

The chandeliers had small diamonds hanging from them, but when I looked closer at all the chandeliers, I noticed that they didn’t match. Each one had a different style, or different light bulbs, or different colours. I wasn’t an interior designer, but to me it looked like they’d been randomly chosen for lighting. When I looked at the other furniture, I noticed that the oil paintings were all of different scenes, no common theme, and the other furniture was mismatched as well. It looked like this mansion was a combination of random expensive relics that had been gathered and thrown together here, probably because there wasn’t anything better. In fact, I looked more carefully around, it almost looked like a thieves’ hideout, everything stolen and therefore not matching.

Some snippet about Viking raids was floating around in my head, how they stole on their raids, but I snapped out of it when the horn sounded again. Kevin, the oldest, paused before opening the wooden doors. I saw him rub his scabbed arm before he walked outside cautiously, closing the doors behind him.

The rest left the mansion in the same way, the horn blowing after about fifteen minutes, signaling the next victim. Soon it was only me left, waiting in the large shadows of the room. My stomach was clenched from hunger and nerves, and I could feel my hands shaking slightly. I looked down at the splotched skin, grimaced, and squeezed my fists. I was standing right in front of the doors, waiting with apprehension and dread for the horn to sound. No one had come back after they’d left, I couldn’t help noticing.

Eventually, I jumped when I heard the horn. I hefted open the door, feeling some splinters slide into my palm, and left the eerily silent mansion behind. I made sure to shut the door behind me, before blinking in the dusk setting. All the low, long buildings made silhouettes against the light blue and pink sky, the rivers shinning with the setting sun’s colours. The view would have been nice to look at, if I hadn’t been so nervous, and if I’d actually known where I was.

I stepped onto the dirt path, rubbing my arms in the cold chill as the wind blew. The air smelled fresh and clean, like I was somewhere far away from any city, just me and the wilderness. There was some sort of smoky scent that caught in my throat and made me start coughing, and I tried to ignore it as it got stronger. I walked off in search of it, hoping that smoke meant fire, and fire meant warmth and people. And hopefully food.