Rogue ✔

Chapter Nineteen : The Room

"I see, that look in your eye.
It makes me go blind."

Paige POV

Everything seemed very surreal in that moment. Nothing really mattered.

I've still sat in this stuffy cell for a while now, scared and thirsty. I don't know how long I'll last here.  You can last up to thirty days without food, but only 3 or 4 days without water. I didn't know if those measurements would still apply to a werewolf. I doubted they would be much longer.

I estimated myself to have been here for about 36 hours. There are no windows here, no way to measure time. My wrists and ankles were screaming in pain. The edges if my vision began to swirl as a major headache took hold.

A sharp clack of heels on concrete warned me of an approaching danger.

It was her. Oh yes. The witch had come for a visit. Her hypnotic, magenta eyes flashed with merth. She stood several feet away from the cell bars, watching me.

Her outfit had changed since the last time I had seen her. Her room cleaning outfit now abandoned. A silky white pantsuit decorated with chunky gold jewelry had taken its place. Her auburn hair had been flat ironed, with long bangs covering her forehead down to her eyes.

A small shiver went down my spine went down my spine when I saw her nails. They were long and pointed, almost razor sharp. They were painted with silver. Actual silver. A slight gleam reflected off of them. I recoiled.

She smiled at me, her trademark pointed teeth bared. Her entire stature was sharp and pointy. From her jawline, her bangs, her eyebrows, nails, teeth, even cheekbones were all sharp lines and angles. Harsh, seemed to be repeating in my thoughts as I looked at her.

"Alright, your time in here us up. Care to partake in the main event?" She hissed at me. Her eyes seemed to turn to slits, like a snake. When she blinked it went away.

I peeled back my lips and gave her the most ferocious snarl I could. I showcased my own set of teeth, not as sharp... but menacing enough. It wasn't much of a roar as I would like it to be, my voicebox was too hoarse from lack of water and not using it.

Her smug smile only increased at the sound of my weakness. The witches violet eyes twitched over at my feet, still chained.

"Oh, does that hurt? It looks like it hurts." I snarled again. She laughed.

"Your cute, Paige. Really. But..." she paused, "it's time for you to help me exact revenge upon your mate!"

In a flash, the same two men from the motel room were looking over me. I laid there on the hard floor, unable to move. The first one had unchained my feet while the other held me down by the shoulders.

I tried to fight, I did. I tried to trash and push. Nothing worked. They were too pumped full of steroids and I was too starved and weak to do anything.

They quickly tied a thick rope around my ankles, squeezing them. The coarse rope charged horribly against my still sensitive skin. I peeked down at my feet. A small section of skin was visible from above the rope. The skin was red and swollen, even bleeding in some areas.

The two beasts repeated the process with my hands, I repeated my tired charade for escape as well.  I guess at that moment was when the dread finally set in.

There wasn't much that I could do. I was too weak. I didn't want to give up. But my body had gone through so much the last three days that I was physically sick. I wondered how Damian was holding up.

I no doubt must gave been feeling what I been through the last few hours. I wondered if I'd ever see him again. Sure, he left me when I needed him most. I still loved him though.

Love him. You love him.

Gee, you sure do have timing don't ya? Wait until your being escorted to your own death before coming to this realization.

The burly men seemed odd. They weren't werewolves, no they grabbed my silver chains. They didn't have the ink tatoos that all male warlocks were born with. And they didn't have the beady red eyes of vampires. They can't have been witches (for obvious reasons. All witches are female.)

They also couldn't have been human, they wouldn't have been able to hold me down like that if they were.

What are these things?

I guess that did t matter right now. No matter what they were, they were step get than me and were carrying me down a long chamber with an ominous light at the end. I began to get deja vu.

Thus was just like how I felt when those damn prison guards had hauled me off to the 'questioning room'. Except this time I doubted that I would get away as easily as before. These brutes had both my shoulders and wrists in a death grip, cutting off my circulation.

The woman led in front of us, her starch white pumps making that annoying clicking sound. Her arms lightly swinged at her side. Her nails screeching as she grinded them together.

The whole thing took about 45 seconds, but it felt like a century. She led the mystery men and I inside the brightly illuminated room. It was only after I had rounded the corner when the fear set in for good.

It was a fairly average room, smooth white walls, tile floors, harsh florescent lights attached to the ceiling, making my sensitive eyes water.

In the middle if the room, was the thing that truly concerned me. There was a chair. A typical chair that you would find in a kindergarten classroom. A plastic seat, with metal bars supporting it.

The chair was nothing, but the table next to it that held things such as hammers, pliers, rope, silver collars, duct tape and a video camera, can you feel my fear yet?

With a sudden clarity, I knew that I was going to die in this room. I just hoped that I didn't suffer.