Burn Me (A Shatter Me Series Sequel)

Prologue

My head is hurting. I try to force myself into full consciousness but black clouds are blurring my vision. I blink them away. It takes me a full minute to adapt to the blinding whiteness of the room. I swipe my gaze around it. There isn't much to take in - white walls, white floor, white door blending in almost completely. There is no furniture apart from the metal chair I'm sitting on and another one next to the door. Every joint in my body is aching as if it's a lock rusted shut. I try to stretch and I realise my hands are handcuffed and strapped to the chair. After that my brain starts flipping through the memories. They come fast, flooding my mind. We were taken. All of us - Ian, Alia, Lilly, Winston, Brendon, Adam, James

Juliette

She must have found a way out by now. I must go to her. I realise that I have no power, I try to find it, to make my way to it but all I can feel is this room - white, sterile, empty. A sudden realisation strikes me. If I can't feel the others, where could they be. How far could they've locked them up.

Are they still alive.

I am hungry for answers. I will tear apart every white wall in this hellhole but I will find them.

The door doesn't creak when she walks in. She makes no sound as she slides gracefully in the metal chair. Her skin is white as milk, her black eyes - two bottomless voids, her hair is the colour of sunlight just before a thunderstorm. It is styled flawlessly in a braid falling down her right shoulder.

"Hello, Aaron" she says and I think that if snakes could speak with human voice, they'll have her voice. "I am Jasmine Eaton - your supervisor"

I stay silent. I realise I hate everything about her. The tone she uses makes me feel small, the way she looks down on me, even the way she looks. Much better than me and that unsettles me. I find a little bit of satisfaction in her clothing though, she's wearing a red tank top, dark jeans and boots. They haven't changed my clothes so I'm still wearing black slacks and a shirt. I notice my jacket on the floor next to my chair. The simple fact that I'm better dressed than her gives me a sliver of confidence.

"I assume you won't acknowledge my presence at all." she cocks her eyebrows and leans forward resting her chin on her hand. I can't help being fascinated with the way she moves. I can't help admire her grace, her superiority. "Which is not very smart, because I might offer you useful information."

Her words make sense, but I don't want to give her the pleasure of thinking she has an advantage. I simply rise my head and look her dead in the eye. She holds my gaze a good half a minute before she speaks again.

"The Reestablishment keeps a close eye on interrogations. It keeps a close eye on everything really. I am sure you are aware that this conversation is recorded." I don't know why she's telling me this, I have grown up among the cameras, every moment of my childhood is stored in the Reestablishment documents. "But I have a feeling that there would be some kind of...." she takes a good ten seconds to let a slow and very wicked smile spread across her face "...data corruption."

I don't know how to response, I can't decide if it's a trap. My mind is telling me that it is, my instinct is telling me to trust her. All my life my mind has been the most loyal adviser. I need to think this through. We are prisoners. There is nothing that I say that would make the situation worse. I follow my instinct.

"You want to help us?" 

"I want the Reestablishment down. I want to burn it to ashes. Frankly I don't care who will aid me in this battle. I just need a team to lead. I've been watching you closely and I admit I am very impressed. Especially with you." She gets to her feet, takes a couple steps forward.

I am not willing to take my guard down so easily.

"Why should we trust you?" I ask my voice bitter.

"If you want me to swear my loyalty to you, I'm afraid I cannot do that. I don't really need your trust or respect." It takes me to long to notice. The rising temperature, the faint glow in her veins. "Only your fear."

Her hands are on fire.

She is standing to close. I can see her tracing a line on my shoulder with her finger. I can see the fabric of my shirt burning. But the scorching pain is drowning any other sensation.