Protect the Prince

CHAPTER 38 - FELIX

Black.

That's all I see, eyes still closed, as I slowly - painfully, shift into consciousness. My head swims, feeling heavy and weak, and my tongue feels like its swollen, a thick piece of muscle and flesh in the dry, aching contours that are my mouth.

I moan in pain and confusion.

Where am I?

My last memory is that of a girl... a girl with strikingly silver eyes.

Sam!

Where is she?

It's the thought of her that pushes me to try to move. I painfully open my eyes, revealing white. Everything was white, but the white was sinister, as if trying to lull us into a false sense of security, before striking.

I felt as if I was made out of sluggish, slow-moving wet concrete as I forced my protesting muscles up with agonizing slowness, eyes seeking out danger with a slowness that made me want to scream.

But at the same time, all I wanted to do was be completely placid, slow, god, not any trouble... yes...

NO!

With a mental scream, I forced myself away from those thoughts that weren't my own with a feeling of overwhelming nausea.

Just what had they given me?

I force myself not to slip in to the relaxing, tempting haze of darkness that I was before. I look around with enormous difficulty.

I'm not the only person here.

Some of them are guests, I notice a few people. A couple of my friends are here, and I let out a sigh of relief. They're safe - for now.

But where's Sam?

We're in some sort of cage, I see that now, made of some of the thinnest material I've ever seen, webbed with dizzying intricacies that my currently dazed mind cannot comprehend, but I have no doubt that it's strong and probably dangerous. I continue looking, searching for something. I'm not sure what it is.

I realize that we're on a... padded floor? It's soft and surprisingly comfortable, seeing how we were taken. It's a deep, rich crimson.

I swallow. Hard. It's probably to hide blood...

I try not to think of it. I can't have a nervous breakdown.

It is then I notice that I am dressed differently, in all white clothes. They are plain, simple, a thin cotton jumpsuit with a cotton black belt, which gives me an odd sort of relief and satisfaction. Finally a different color - or is black a shade?

It doesn't matter. Something different from the sickening white-white-white-red.

Even if it's the same tempting dark haze, calling me to fall into its inky embrace.

My muscles strain, and I finally lay back down, wincing at the sharp tingles of pain. My nerves seem to be permanently out of whack and totally shot, and my muscles... I don't eve want to think about that.

How long have I been here?

This question, out of all the others (Where is Sam? Where am I? What's going to happen to me?) seems to be the straw that breaks the camels back.

I fall prey to a wave of panic, breath quickening until I'm nearly choking ohmygod-

Footsteps sound, and my breath comes only quicker, until all I can see, before I pass out again from exhaustion, fear and panic, is a dark silhouette and the colour of blood and lies.