Graced Feather

Torture

Darkness. Light. Shadows. Sun.

Colors and images flash across my vision. I can't control it.

I hear moans and screams. I smell blood. I feel steel. But I can't open my eyes.

An image of Chase blips up from the darkness. Just as soon, though, it's replaced by Dylan.

Even, in his wolf form. Evan, roaring as a great white dragon. Sophia, with her glowing eyes. Dehlila, and her kind offer.

I see them all. I hear them all. But I can't open my eyes.

Suddenly, blackness steals my sight again. I hear a voice echo in my ears. It sounds like Curator.

"This isn't working. Use your powers to their fullest, you monster. Or else I'll get someone to replace you."

Another voice, this one female, says,"My power doesn't lie in the mind, Curator. I already told you that it lies in the body. I can't recreate memories from nerves."

A harsh sound, like a smack, then a thump on the floor. The girl whimpers as bootsteps sound.

"You will recreate her memories, Nerve, or you will die like your brother. At least he could manipulate thoughts."

"Then why did you kill him?" Nerve asks, shuddering as the boots get closer to her. I can hear her rattling breaths echo off the stone walls.

"My reasons are none of your concern. Now, give me what I want, or lose your neck," Curator growls.

I sense the girl rise to her feet. She's younger than me, I think to myself. Hardly twelve. She shouldn't be here.

I feel power rise around me as she puts her cold hands on my forehead. I still can't open my eyes, and a sharp pain is taking root in my temples and forehead.

Then, right before the sharp pain in my head reaches its peak, I hear a door open.

I hear footsteps, then Eris's voice as she exclaims,"Curator! We agreed that we wouldn't torture them!"

Curator growls something foul under his breath, then says to Nerve,"Enough. Leave her be."

Nerve's cold fingers leave my head, as does the pain. I remind myself to talk to her later, after I'm out of this hell.

Nerve walks out, her dainty footsteps light and quiet. The door closes with a bang behind her.

"I thought I told you not to disturb me," Curator says to Eris, his voice calm. I can imagine his impassive face and his burning eyes all too well.

Eris shifts on her feet. "And I thought I told you not to torture them," she says back, her voice surrisingly level and calm, containing iron and will.

"She has information we need. I know it. I'll keep her down her for another month if I have to. I will get what I want, even if it kills her."

Another month? I've been being tortured for a month?

"She won't survive. And besides, we need her. With her blood, we can alter this war. We can force them to surrender. They would never dare harm her," Eris says, bringing my mind back to the moment.

I can sense Curator thinking about this.

Finally he speaks, saying,"Fine. But if she even breathes a word of what has happened down here, she's dead. And so are you."

With that threat, Curator leaves, banging the door shut behind him.

I hear Eris take a deep breath. The next moment, she's by my side. I feel a sharp prick in my arm, and whimper. The sound is strangely loud in the quiet.