Daughter of the Legend: Breaking Fate

Chapter Twenty-Two: Change

There was a pounding in my head, drowning out all of the sounds that may or may not have been around me. My senses were blurred and the only feeling I could recognize, was a discomfort that came from my throat. Leaving my skin irritated and itching. Shuffling feet echoed lazily in my ears, I attempted to open my eyes. They fluttered uselessly.

I can't determine when my brain decided to turn back on, but when it did, I groaned. The headache that had rendered me helpless earlier, was now a dull beat in the background. Turning my head slightly, I winced as I felt the stitches holding my agitated skin together. In an instance, the events replayed across my mind. My eyes shot open. I wasn't restrained by ropes or hand cuffs; sitting up on the bed cot that I had been laying on, I tried to determine where I was. Looking frantically around for my father, I was only met with ominous darkness. Cold chills crept across my skin.

"Dean?" I struggled to whisper, "Dad, are you there?" The strain of my eyes against the dark, amplifying the pain in my head. Knowing my luck, I probably had a concussion. Faintly, a groan sounded from the darkness, followed by a mumbling of undefinable words.

"Dean? Dean, is that you?" I whispered anxiously. Mentally, I scolded myself. After watching hundreds of scary movies and being in this line of work, you would think that I would know better than to call out into the dark.

Another groan and mumbled words seeped from the darkness. I stood up from the bed, but quickly sat back down as the world around me did a back flip. Another groan escaped my sore throat. A soft shuffling echoed, and I looked into the gaping darkness in front of me.

"R..." I heard the slurred attempt of communication, but it wasn't Dean. The voice was different. Another attempt of speaking was made. "Rae..."

"Bentley?" My voice came out quiet. A sour taste formed at the back of my throat. No, it couldn't be Bentley. Bentley was probably dead. "Cut the crap." I growled coldly. "I know it's you Shane."

"Who?" came a more audible reply. It was Bentley's voice, now it was just irritating me. Mostly because it made the pain of knowing that he was gone even worse.

"I'm not going to talk to you if you keep using his voice, come out and face me like a man, or whatever you actually are."

"What the hell are you talking about Rae?" I heard chains scarping the ground and a sentence of profanities seep from the darkness.

"Wow, you are still keeping up the act. I'd applaud you if it weren't for the fact that I hate you."

"Holy shit, who pissed in your cheerio's this morning?"

"You're crossing the line Shane."

"Who the hell is Shane, Rachel?" His voice broke like it always does when he is stressed out or tired. I didn't respond. "Rae, god dammit. Answer me!"

"Just stop!" I cried out, finally breaking. "Just stop! Where is Dean, you son of a bitch? I just want my dad..." I pulled my knees up to my chest and sobbed. Of course this only made the stitches in my throat hurt, making me cry harder from the pain it was causing. Scuffing feet made their way towards me. I wouldn't look up. I knew it was Shane, and I knew if I looked up I'd break completely. I would think that even for that split second, my best friend was alive and that he was here with me in this hell hole.

"Rachel," his voice was so real. It was so familiar and I wanted to wrap my arms around him. I wanted him to be real. So desperately I needed someone there for me. His hand was on the side of my face.

"I can't..."

"Rae, please..."

"I can't...please...please just stop."