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(a/n: in the middle of editing this book. i wrote this when i was 15. i'm only trying to edit it to make it a bit more readable and fix the plot.)
"You have witchcraft in your lips" — William Shakespeare, Henry V
—
CHAPTER 04; NO LONGER HUMAN
Mina's ears were ringing.
Her mouth tasted awful.
She tensed. Why were her arms numb?
Static arced through her eyes and pricked her face. Mina stirred awake, softly groaning and her tongue clicked dry against her teeth. Her jaw hurt. A blob floated into her line of sight, but it was the moonlight slipping through some tiny gap in the ceiling.
Her head pounded like someone had smashed the back of it with a sledgehammer. Not even the music could subdue it. That made a mirthless smile flash on her lips. As if she could expect anything from the music.
Pretissimo. Like rain slamming against a window. Or drumsticks clashing with its cymbal. It followed her like a leash around the neck. Like a dog. Mina lifted her head drowsily and then her lead-heavy limbs only to feel cold metal clink against her wrists.
Her chest burst with itchiness. She inhaled through the nose, feeling the air compress inside her lungs before last night flooded through her eyes like a hot streak of lightning. Fuck. She snapped her head forwards, writhing. Her hands were chained to a stone wall behind her—sensation slowly floating to the tips of her fingers as she observed the tight black shackle wrapping each limp wrist.
Mina was exhausted. It was like as soon as she regained consciousness that her body decided to give out. Her legs had been crumbling under the pressure of standing for hours, blood pooling down at her legs, itching her skin with needles. Knees bent, shaking, they struggled with her dead weight.
Someone cut through the silence.
"Lovely day, isn't it?"
Her blue eyes fluttered to the sound of the voice, darting about in the darkness with a sinking feeling. She winced when the ceiling light turned on, baring its teeth on her face. It revealed an underground chamber of some kind, with Dazai Osamu standing inches away from her face.
Mina had never felt so fucked over in her life.
Fuck—FUCK!
She did the first thing she could think of. Spit at him.
Mina felt Dazai clasp his fingers around her jaw. She received a slanted, boyish smile from him as he spoke, "I asked you a question, Mina."
Mina. She looked at him. He said her name like it was a prayer. It was too soft-spoken. It was sickening.
