The Flame Trilogy (Books I, II & III)

2.04

Everything around me is dark, dank and musty; goose bumps rising on my naked flesh from the cold breeze that infiltrated the space. I'm cold, almost shivering my toes turning blue- I'm almost certain that my lips are the same. I want to wrap my arms around myself but I can't. The skin of my wrists are chafed and bleeding raw from the cold chains that restrain them.

I'm in a cell; trapped like a goddamn rogue. Whatever drugs they have hooked me up to seem to finally be leaving my system and I can slowly feel the remnants of control flooding back into my senses.

The first thing that comes back to me is the unadulterated rage. The hazy cloud of zombification dispersing to reveal what I really feel underneath. I have never wanted to hurt, to rage, to kill more in my entire life. I feel vicious- wild; I barely feel like myself, whatever I that had been.

The emotions are startling even for me; I have no idea where it's coming from, I've never felt such a way in all my life. Perhaps they are right to lock me up; maybe whatever they have been injecting me with has finally taken its toll and I'm actually turning rogue.

I'd take that over the torture of being stuck here. One would think that they would have mercy, but I've started to come to terms with the fact that the word 'mercy' probably isn't in any of their vocabularies. Not even the suffering of a 9 year old is enough to sway them- they are truly sick bastards.

Just thinking about the way they've pushed me further than my breaking point, of all the injustice and suffering they've caused me is enough to make me sick with fury.

Mama had always said that the strong were meant to protect the weak. These villains have done nothing but abuse the power and strength they have to prey upon the ones who need their protection most. It is nothing short of nauseating. Infuriating.

Footsteps echo around me, my less than cognizant self unable to tell where they're coming from. I don't want any of those disgusting, pieces of shit coming near me, not ever again. I thrash against my restraints, my wrists bleeding more profusely from the ripping skin.

There is an uncomfortable growing heat below my skin. It's as if there's a volcano inside me that is about to explode, tearing me apart in the process and I can't stop it. The fire only intensifies, until I can't help but open my mouth as a scream rips through me.

Pain. So much pain. Exploding everywhere, ripping me apart. The burning intensifies in my back and then I really am being ripped open- something is growing, on my back. Its heavy, foreign weight, terrifying me, making tears sting my eyes. Fear so much fear, I can't breathe with it.

Leathery black, clawed wings bloom, until the small space of the cell feels cramped. My head aches- it's a pain beyond anything I have ever felt before. Everywhere is in excruciating pain, so intense that I'm surprised that I haven't completely passed out. The same burning I had in my back is now in my head, my hands clenching tightly into fists as I try desperately to deal with what is happening to me however that only worsens the problem as my extending claws draw blood from my already battered palms. One final scream rips through me as horns push their way through my skin; blood trickles down my face and into my eye from my forehead.

Darkness encroaches the peripherals of my vision, and my entire body goes limp- drained from the exertion of the shift that had taken over me. There is a darkness creeping into my mind, one that I don't understand, but I have felt growing each day since. My senses are warped, there is a ringing right in my ears- or perhaps it isn't my senses, but my brain just can't process it.

"She's magnificent..." That voice comes again, haunting me. I barely even feel as he lifts my chin to inspect my face and naked body. He speaks again but I don't know- understand- what he's saying. "...for us. Brand her. Make sure she doesn't die."