Convergence

Chapter 11

Allafair's head throbbed with a terrible headache. He could barely move his head, not daring to even lift his eyelids. For a while, he couldn't hear anything. There was a humming, not continuous, but broken, as if they were words being spoken. He wanted to know what the words were, but he couldn't even bring himself to move his arms. His muscles were slack and heavy. He felt something was beneath him, something hard. It was supporting his weight. He thought it must have been the floor.

He wondered if he was dead. Was he stuck in an endless darkness? Was this his fate? Had his life all led up to this? He felt warm, but cold at the same time. He was in pain, yet he was numb. He couldn't have been dead, he felt things. He would think that dead would have at least momentarily removed the pain. In his numb, muddled, incoherent state, something told him he was unconscious.

As if he were a submarine resurfacing, he felt the darkness fall upon him as he came to his full senses. The darkness grew lighter and lighter until all was blindingly white. The brightness bore into his eyes, scalding and burning him. He realized that his eyes had opened, and he shut them immediately. The searing pain slowly subsided, and he allowed himself to peek through the bottoms of his eyelids.

He saw what appeared to be a large, arching ceiling above him. It was grey, and reminded him somewhat of the warehouse he had been in only mere days prior. Or could it have been weeks? Was it possible that he had been in a coma? Had several days, possibly weeks, or even months passed without him knowing it? How long had he been lying there? He tried to move, but stabbing pain shot through every inch of him, beginning in his right shoulder. He let his arms fall to his sides, and he felt the cold cement ground beneath him.

Beginning as a buzzing noise, sound slowly returned to his ears. It was quiet at first, but grew louder and awakened the headache pounding in his head. He squeezed his eyes closed even tighter and clenched his teeth as he readjusted to the level of noise. The broken humming became voices, and the voices formed words.

"You're being childish, Gregory," Melline's voice came, bitter and full of disgust. Melline, Allafair thought with an equal degree of disgust to Melline's voice. The word—it was no longer a name to him, only a thing that could describe pain—hung like acid in his thoughts. She had burned holes in him that could not be repaired.

"Childish? I'm being childish? What about you? You're the one locking us up in this hole so you can get a few extra grand, make some money off of us. All we are is items. We are things that you find and sell," a man's voice came. He must have been the one Melline had addressed—Gregory.

Melline scoffed. "Don't act like he's lying," another male voice spoke in annoyance.

"Elwynn, I can't make everything move as smoothly as one of those fairytales you read," Melline replied. Allafair's brow creased in thought. The name Elwynn sounded familiar. He searched his mind for any traces of a man he may have known by that name, but continued to listen intently to the conversation.

"That is why you're the villain in this story," the second man, Elwynn, told her icily.

"You've even dragged another one into this! Who is he, a former janitor? You had to have all of your play things with you? Are we just dolls?" Gregory asked angrily.

Melline laughed. "If you were dolls I'd have thrown you to the dogs long ago," she answered.

"Really?" Gregory laughed. "That wasn't what you said last week when you ensnared me into your seductive lure and told me that all you wanted was for us to be together again! And you know what? I believed every bloody word you said, and for what? I ended up thrown in a pit of despair for God knows what."