The Revival

01| The Aftermath

Everything is black.

Stirring from her slumber, Elia groggily moves to sit up, still surprised when her movement is halted by the chains around her neck and limbs. Letting out a defeated sigh, Elia tries to settle back down as comfortably as possible, wincing when the chain restraining her right arm hits the fresh burn mark covering her skin. The guard that inflicted it earlier was all too happy about doing so, smiling down as he pressed the flame to her flesh. Elia hasn't had the privilege of learning his name, but she hopes that whoever it is had a special seat reserved in hell.

Unfortunately, this is the fifth time Elia has woken up over the course of the night. Though she is unable to tell the time, she knows that it's only been a few hours since the lights in her room shut off. Just like the rest of the building, Elia's room has auto controlled lights that turn on and off during specific hours of the day, making it easier for her to tell how long she has been held captive.

There are times when Elia has been knocked out for so long that she believes she could have been asleep for days. Her somewhat accurate calculations, however, conclude she has been in this prison for a week and a half. Ten days, to be exact.

Ten days of torture.

Ten days without Nathan.

At the thought of him, Elia's eyes drift up to the strings dangling above her in the dark, the photos hanging from them moving softly under the blow of the air conditioning. Though she is unable to physically see them now, Elia has each and every image imprinted in her mind for the rest of eternity. The sight of Nathan's lifeless body in front of her is something she will never forget. At the time, Elia didn't think things could get any worse for her.

Now she realizes what a stupid thought that truly was.

Elia wants desperately to reply to Elijah's words, but she is unable to move, the feel of the camera in her blood-covered hands still feeling surreal. None of this felt like it could be happening. Not to her, at least.

Wyatt couldn't actually be dead. Nathan couldn't be dead.

Before she has the will to even think about moving, Elia's limbs are being restrained by the two remaining guards in the room, one of them throwing a heavy black bag over her head to restrict her sight. Elia tries fruitlessly to resist, but her efforts are hardly worth it. After everything that has happened to her today, Elia simply doesn't have the strength to fight back.

The guards don't handle her with an ounce of care, practically throwing her body down the main stairwell and out the door. Neither of them speak while they lead Elia away, the only proof of their presence being their meaty hands all over her limbs.

If she didn't have the bag over her head, the men might realize they could let her go. The look of hollowness spread across her face would be enough proof for anyone to see that she wasn't going anywhere. Whether she could get away to stay in Portland under the Rats or keep going with these men as a part of the Revival, Elia knows she's more than likely already dead. This thought is perhaps the only solace she believes she will ever feel again.

At least if she dies she can be with Nathan again. Even Savannah and Derek.

Not long after she and the guards descend the front steps of the house, Elia finds herself being thrown into the back of a vehicle. Judging by the lack of fabric that used to trademark the seat of a car, Elia determines she must be in the back of some sort of truck. In her mind, it's an old chipping white color that even the dumbest of people know to steer clear from.

The oddity of Elijah having access to a car doesn't even phase Elia as the doors shut loudly in the chaos, leaving her all alone in the dark space.