A Dare

Chapter 3.

When Xandria woke up the next day, she didn't open her eyes. 'It was all a dream,' she thought. 'When I open my eyes, I'll be in my own bedroom and at school I'll tell Kyle of my nightmare and he'll comfort me.'

So she slowly opened her eyes, and to her disappointment, she was still in the same plain white room as she was in her nightmare.

She then noticed her hunger. She hadn't had much of a lunch yesterday, as she had been expecting to eat a lot at the party. But then she didn't eat any dinner at the party, either, so her tiny stomach rumbled.

Xandria sat up and threw her legs off of the bed. The instant her toes touched the hard, cold white tile, she winced and drew her legs back up to her torso. Her home had always been covered with warm, fluffy carpet. She slowly placed her bare feet on the floor and got up. She walked to the door and tried at the knob, but it was still locked. She let out a soft moan and flopped on the bed again. Running her fingers through her hair, her brain working wildly. Her stomach was growling angrily and her tongue dry.

'I'm going mad.'

She imagined what others were doing at the moment. Chyra was probably contemplating drinking the alcohol in the fridge as a distraction from losing one of her best friends. Elisa, she thought, was texting her boyfriend back and forth, worrying about Xandria. Yes, that sounded right. But what was Kyle doing? Oh, how she missed seeing him and cuddling with him and smiling while kissing him. They had only been dating for five months, but Xandria was sure she was in love with him.

Suddenly, a peculiar noise came from the door. She sat up, forgetting about Kyle, and looked to see what had happened. The door opened a foot and a plate of food was thrown into the white room. Just as quick as it was opened, the door slammed shut and was locked. Xandria stood up and walked to the plate. There lay two slices of toast and a hard boiled egg. Confused, Xandria piled up the plate of food and brought it to the bed to eat.

ΞΞΞΞ ΞΞΞΞ ΞΞΞΞ

A man, not older than forty, sat in a large, dark room with a television screen in front of him. He held a thermos full of coffee in his right hand and reclined in his leather office chair. He sat up and put his coffee down on the table in which the television rested on when a boy of seventeen walked into the room.

"Well, Hiro? Did you feed the girl?"

"Yes. She didn't escape, and I don't believe she saw me either." the boy - Hiro - had beautifully tanned skin and dark, almost black hair and eyes. He wasn't particularly large, but his muscles bulged and could be seen through his black, skin-tight t-shirt. His hair was straight, shoulder-length and fell naturally over his left eye. He could easily make any girl swoon, but wasn't looking for any relationships. "Tell me again," he said to the older man, "why are we holding the poor girl captive?"

"She is of the blood. If she isn't confined, she will demolish the state - if not, the country."

"Well we should at least let her out of that room! She's practically in an asylum right now!" Hiro yelled.

"Shush, boy, not so loud!" the older man hissed. "She will hear you."

"If you don't have a good reason, I'll just let her out myself!"

"NO!" said the man firmly. "I can kill you."

Hiro sighed and walked out of the dark room. As silently as he could - for he knew if Xandria heard him he'd surely be killed - he stepped up the stairs and stood against the locked door Xandria stayed in. He could hear soft mumbling, and the occasional moan or sniffle. He knew it was his fault. He knew if he just did the right thing Xandria wouldn't be here. But he hadn't. He never did the right thing.

Nobody of the blood ever did the right thing.