I Am Who? - Book 2

Chapter 1 - Dreams & Mountains

Warm, golden light flooded the familiar room. Emitting acrid steam, the bowl was shoved beneath my nose, and consciousness jolted through me. Knowing the vanity of it, I jerked against the chains that trapped my hands and ankles against the desk where I was seated.

"You know I don't want to do this, Bree." I turned my head unwillingly to see the figure leaning casually against the wall on my left.

Hatred welled within me, and my struggles increased. Knowing all too well what would come next, helplessness took hold of my heart. Burning tears sprang into my eyes, and my subconscious wrath was at war with my conscious fear and sorrow.

"You traitor!" The words slung like arrows from my lips. "I trusted you. I vouched for you."

"Tsk, tsk, tsk, don't be so upset. You weren't the only one deceived." He chuckled.

"Bastard!" I spat, jerking violently against the chains. "If you've harmed them—any of them—"

"You'll what?" He cut me off. "Face it, Bree; you're not getting out of here—not unless I get what I want."

"You'll never, ever get that from me." I spat, but my insides were already churning with trepidation for what I knew was coming next.

"Oh, we'll see." I could hear the smile in his voice even if I couldn't clearly make out his features. "You know," he pushed off the wall and walked over to me. "This could have been so much more pleasant if you'd politely cooperated at the start. It could still be okay. You can just give in, and it'll all be better." His voice was almost pleading.

No, no, no, don't do it.

I spat in his face. Like a feral beast, I bared my teeth at him, straining against my bonds in a vain attempt to reach him.

"I'd rather die." I growled.

He chuckled, wiping my saliva off his face. "You'll regret that choice, sweets." You see, the king's methods were archaic and foolish. I've heard there's a way to force you to do what I want. It happened with your father at the end so they tell me."

I jerked at my bonds again, and he shook his head. "Let me loose, and we'll see who comes out on top."

"Look, sweet thing, even if you were free, I'd overpower you in a moment." He chuckled.

"Then why don't you try it?" I growled.

His head tilted to the side as if he were actually considering it. I wished with all my being that he would. At this point, I would accept anything that would stave off the twist I was anticipating.

"I'd humor you, but we have limited time." He said, and I barked a mocking laugh. His back straightened, and he tensed. The laugh bothered him.

"You think it's funny, don't you?" His voice was tight. "Well, let me finish. You see, the king was all about cruel torture methods, but he never thought of trying the cruelest one of all."

Dread tightened my stomach into a knot. No, no, no! I didn't want to see it. I wanted my eyes to stop working or for the scene to change suddenly—anything, anything that would stop the familiar horrors from becoming reality.

He snapped a finger, and the sound echoed through the room. A grinding sound filled the air, and a platform lowered from the ceiling. I wanted to shut my eyes before I saw the terrible sight, but I couldn't. My heart stopped. There was a figure on the platform—a figure I knew too well. All the fighting spirit within me dissipated, replaced by a horrible sense of dread.