The Ivory Killer (DISCONTINUED)

-Chapter Nine- Aron

Chapter 9 is here and it's a doozy. Enjoy!

After every intimidating statement was said, every binding was tied, and every glare was thrown, they left the room. I could hear the gigantic clunk of a large lock falling into place outside of the door. Their footsteps receded and I was left in silence. Well, silence minus my terrified breathing and quiet chatting of guards outside of the door.

There were too many problems to sift through; too many questions to find answers to. Where was I? Why me? Most of all, right on top of the list was, how could the lady be dead? Despite our short time together, I could feel a small hole grow right next to the one reserved for my mother in my heart. I surprised myself there. After just a few weeks on my own, I had gotten used to worrying about myself first. I planned on when I would eat next, where I would sleep, what I would wear. Now, I only wondered about her. Whoever the Ivory Killer was would pay, as soon as I got out of the rope tying my hands together.

Speaking of the rope, the knight that tied it did it exceptionally well. After he had tied my hands together, he wrapped a larger length of rope around my torso, securing me to the chair. Every time I wriggled in my seat, the rough fibers of the rope seemed to dig into my wrist in the most uncomfortable way possible. Eventually, I didn't dare to move any more. I felt a small drop of warm blood roll down my hand and drip off the tip of my pointer finger. I didn't even have to see my hands to know that they were red and raw. Luckily, my midsection was protected by my clothing.

Even though I had reached "last resorts" many times that day, I pulled out one more from my sleeve. "Hey!" I shouted, ignoring the obnoxious crack in my voice from lack of water. There was no plan as to what would happen if someone replied, but if I could get someone to open the door, that was good enough. When no one answered, I shouted again, "Hello? Anyone there?"

There was a sharp thump on the door, then, "Shut up!"

I frowned. All I wanted was for them to open the door, and I needed more than a "shut up" for that to happen. I leaned forward a bit in my chair, and a sharp piercing pain in my wrists reminded me of my position. Here I was, tied up in a place that I was certain I had no power. Why would they open the door at my request? So, like they said, I just shut up and waited.

It wasn't a terribly short wait, but it wasn't as long as I had expected. I flinched unwillingly when the lock screeched and the door slammed open. Two of the guards from earlier marched into the cell, what I had begun to call it, and shut the door with another crash. Behind the two figures, I could make out one more. Their tense shoulders were draped with a brown cloak and their hands were hidden underneath it. Their eyes and nose were covered in the shadows of the hood, so I could only see their tightly pressed lips. What seemed odd about their appearance, though, was the state of their clothes. The knights wore deep red shirts underneath a layer of chainmail, paired with dark trousers and boots. Every article of clothing was in pristine condition, with no holes or stains. The chainmail glimmered in the light of the window behind me, though it was small and lined with vertical bars. Even their boots appeared spotless and clean. The extra person in the room was clad in clothing similar to mine. The cloak was ripped and stained, with the edges having seen better days. They definitely weren't a knight. I watched while one knight pointed to the left corner of the room, and they obediently shuffled into place.

"A little birdy told me you were being loud," said the other knight. He towered over me, glaring at me with a malicious fire in his eyes. He flicked my temple and I blinked in surprise, "We don't take well to noisy candidates."

Candidates? I wanted to question, but I held my tongue.

"Well, it won't be a problem soon," he said mockingly, pacing around my chair, "Enjoy your last moments of freedom."