Persephone

Chapter 6: A Slice of Apple

A/N: Hey guys. Just wanted to say THANK YOU to those who voted for 'Persephone', big shout out to them! For that, I've decided to break the Humane Side of this story. Let's start, shall we? ;) ~Y.G

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Chapter 6: A Slice of Apple

Percy was just finishing up her essay on the six Crusades when her usually noisy and uncaring classmates suddenly quited down. It was almost like a miracle, like the whole class was taking a long deep breath that wasn't going to stop for a very long time. Percy slowly looked up as the door opened and a dashingly handsome young man strode into the room in a seemingly well-tailored coat and papers underneath his arm. He had long blonde hair that was tied back behind him in a red ribbon, and his shapely jaw was covered in a thin stubble. He looked around just 25-ish to be a teacher, but damn he was intimidating. 

"Good afternoon, people. I am Mr. Gavriel Rayne, your math teacher for today," he said in an unusual gravelly voice, the type Benedict Cumberbatch has, Percy thought idly as she set down her papers in her folders to pay attention to the new comer. She snuck a look at the other girls, and of course they were batting their eyelashes, making purr-ty faces, smucking out their lips like a duck's: all to have it ignored by Mr. Rayne. She opened a container of apple slices without breaking her look from the teacher, and placed one in her mouth. 

Instead she found herself staring back at him for quite a long time, and him staring back at her too. His eyes. His eyes. They were blue, the kind of blue you find on the surface of a gemstone, captivating, alluring, mesmerizing. Percy felt her throat constrict for some reason and a burning sensation at the back of it. She began to cough loudly, until her classmates turned to look at her like they wanted to murder her for making Mr. Rayne stop talking.

I don't know what the hell's happening! Percy thought, panicking as she tried to double down her chair to keep the noise down, but she coughed all the louder. Tears rushed into her eyes as she gripped her mouth. She felt the spittle come to her hand. Oh, god, stop! She felt the apple lump in her throat like a large ball.

"Miss, come with me," Mr. Rayne was already lunging forward and then led her out, Percy's back being stabbed by a thousand burning looks. Her math teacher went back in the room for a second and then asked them to keep quiet while he runs her to the clinic. "I believe that our student has choked on something."

Percy's legs were trembling. What the hell's wrong with me?! She gasped and sputtered and felt her throat being rubbed down by sandpaper. Mr. Rayne quickly took her by the arm and then began heading up the stairs. 

Then to another hallway.

Then to another hallway.

Then to another hallway.

Wait a minute, Mr. Rayne's new here. He probably doesn't know where the clinic is, Percy thought and abruptly stopped. They were at the higher section of the seven-story building, and one more floor up would bring them to the open pool. They've gone the wrong way. 

Mr. Rayne impatiently tugged her. "Come on," he said, still in that suave voice, now laced with impatience.

Alarm bells rang in her head, sharp and clear. Percy shook her head violently. "N-No." She took a step back, then another, and then the racking cough took her down again. Her throat was burning as if she'd drank a whole bottle of tobasco sauce. Her knees folded and she sank on the floor, doubling up, her stomach cramping, adding up to the pain she was already feeling. 

Flesh connected with flesh, and Percy was seeing stars and the side of the floor. Her cheek stung, and in her vision she could see a pair of suede shoes. "Listen to me, you stupid demonio."

Demon.

He called me a demon. Percy struggled to move, but it was as if she was chained to the floor. He called me a demon. He called me a demon. Her mind echoed and her tongue was as heavy as lead. Percy couldn't understand what was happening to her. He called me a demon. Then she was pushed back none too gently, and she faced the ceiling. 

Then a hot sticky liquid dribbled down her forehead and pooled on her eyes, turning her vision red. The sharp coppery smell hit the air and her stomach roiled. Blood. Oh my god, what is he doing to me? Percy began to struggle against her bonds, but she felt numb. It was nothing she had ever felt like. Her voice wasn't working either. She wanted to scream. Fear was gripping her heart in a vice. 

"Liga me ad hoc daemon in caro, in sanguis, in anima. Ego sum autem dominus huius infelix creatura," he began to chant in a blank voice, his hand over her eyes, but Percy could see that he had slashed through his own skin and the blood -- his blood -- was dripping over her eyes, stinging them more. "Restringo ocolus eius." Then her vision darkened.  

The panic surged into her in a fresh wave and Percy thrashed her body with all the might she had. Someone help me please! SOMEONE! But she couldn't see anything anymore. She couldn't scream for help too. Percy wanted to break down. Percy was scared. She never felt so alone, so helpless. 

"You've been a great handful to us, you know, honey?" The suave voice was back. She hated it. "We've heard all you did and  that witchy friend of yours, but who'd guess you'd be this easy to trap? Easy as pie."  A shiver passed through her body as fingers left tingling sensations on her skin. Stop touching me. She felt revulsion like a rearing snake and all she wanted was push away those fingers and wake up. 

But Percy knew this wasn't a dream she was having. It was real, and Percy couldn't move, couldn't talk, couldn't see. All she felt was those fingers touching her where she didn't want them to, invading her personal space, feeling disgustingly molested. With the blood in her face, she felt like she was never going to be clean again. 

Ezekiel, she thought despairingly. Bells, Beatrice. Percy wondered if this was the feeling after death, when you couldn't see anything anymore. Like you were now being lowered into the hole as sad faces looked on. With the sky as ashen grey as the faces were, and no one would remember you, at least in a very short time. She was chilled. Maybe no one was there anymore. She couldn't feel anything except for the probing fingers. It was as if her soul had abandoned her in her midst. Percy thought of a news casting later on that day. "Body of a girl found in a school. Police are still searching for the criminal" and all stuff like that. She felt like dead. Already. And Bells and the others were supposed to have a slumber party, in which she was invited into. Percy thought she'd never see her again. 

Evander, she thought suddenly. She didn't know why, neither did she want to know why. It was so random, so stupid. Why would she think of him, that no-good clown newbie-in-town? She had better people who she could think of, and he was the next thing that came in her mind. Seriously?

And she heard footsteps along the corridor.