Burning Souls (F.T Sequel)

Forty

A/N: FOOOORTTYYYYYYYYYY. I've spent a long while on this chapter and lemme tell you, we're going out with a BANG. This is the end guys, hold on tight <3

Thank you with all my heart for supporting me throughout this story. It's been one hell of a ride ;-)

FYI: Epilogue after this

-xoxo, Sophia

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*Julia's POV*

Light. A lot of blinding light that makes me squint my eyes to keep it from impairing my vision. Which causes total darkness. I slip and my knees hit the concrete floor. A cold hand roughly jerks me upright and pushes me forwards. I stumble and fall into another body. I'm pushed back with disinterest as husky laughter filters in and out through my senses. When they came to retrieve me from my cell, I'd have thought that I'd be thrown out of the underground camp, or killed at least. A small part of me was even hoping to be reunited with Dominic, that moronic bastard. But Gabriel must have had a change of heart - impossible since he probably doesn't have one - at the last moment, thus propelling me into my very uncertain death. 

The harsh, white lighting radiating from the perfectly aligned spotlights in the ceiling gradually adjust themselves in my eyes, and I manage to keep them open for a whole three seconds. My eyelids start blinking erratically, in total contrast with the steady, calm beating of my heart. It pounds in my chest and the echo booms up to my ears, like a comforting reassurance that I'm still very much alive. But for how long? I seem to have come to terms that life will end for me tonight, hence the rhythmic beating. It mingles with the footsteps around me as we walk through rows and rows of neatly stacked carton boxes on shelving units. We stop in front of a staircase that spirals up into a hole in the ceiling. Up above, through that gap, I can perceive a reflection on something that looks like glass, but it stands in stark contrast with a pitch black background. One of the robotic guards grips my upper arm and begins jerking me harshly up the steps. 

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*Emma's POV*

Heavy footfalls pound on the metallic staircase in a steady beat, reminding me of the chiming of a clock tower's fork as it moves through the seconds. Closer and closer to the hour of the moon's arrival at its peak. Closer and closer to the seconds that it will take to kill the victims of the ritual. Closer and closer to the loss of my sight, of my humanity, of my life. God, how I sound selfish. By doing this, by soaring free of Gabriel's mind-twisting plan, I'm most likely saving the lives of thousands of innocent people that will be forced under Gabriel's rule. This is as much of a heroic act as it can get. 

But then why do I have this sinking feeling in my gut that tells me that I'm the villain? 

I lift my head as the footsteps echo in the glass dome before abruptly stopping. My neck cracks back from its twisted position of holding the weight of my head as I try my best to straighten. I glance at the moon that radiates through the ceiling's clear glass, casting silver halos onto the smooth floor. The night has grown darker, leaving the white orb against a black contradiction. What a beautiful place to be incarcerated, I think. Such beauty in such a terrible place. "Get your hands off me, prick," a familiar voice fills the silent air. My eyes widen as they zone in on Julia being roughly handled into a sitting position on the ground. Her head lifts as she sits with a wince and our gazes lock immediately. Sadness replaces the first-hand shock in her expression, and she wordlessly lets it travel over the splintering chair that I'm seated in. The guard uncovers a sort of tiny lid in the floor from where a shiny, standing bolt protrudes and lifts Julia's hands up less than gently. The second guard hands him a set of cuffs with a blank face and his compatriot takes it just as mechanically. Julia shrinks back on the ground when she sees the device, and her eyes widen momentarily before abruptly narrowing with anger.