It Follows

Part 6

The cold, hard ground pressed against her cheek was the first sensation Alina felt when she came to. It took a few seconds for her to open her eyes, and even then it was a struggle. Her eyes were heavy, her mind foggy. The light in the room felt blinding, making it impossible for her to see clearly but she forced herself cut through the pain to sit up. The sharp soreness on the side of her head elicited a groan. When she touched the spot, it was sticky; her fingers bore stains of dried blood.

Despite the splitting headache, she managed to stand up, slowly, using the bed post to balance herself, almost feeling somewhat composed until she caught sight of the King's body a few feet away. He was lying face down on the ground, his body twisted in an awkward position.

Everything that happened came back rushing back.

She'd been escorted to the King's personal quarters and ordered to wait for him in there. After a few minutes, he'd shown up. A large man, born to privilege, woefully insolent, he was used to getting his own way. At first he'd played nice, trying to be friendly, offering her a drink from his special collection of vodka, repeatedly telling her the concoction wasn't one he shared with just anyone and how lucky she was to share that privilege with him. Every word out of his mouth made her skin crawl, and eventually he drew closer, pawing at her, but she found a way to put some distance between them, turning down his offer of a drink consistently, until, suddenly, he grabbed her using his full physical strength. It didn't matter how much she struggled against him, he was twice as heavy as her and not afraid to use violence. Panicked and terrified, she grabbed the bottle of vodka and smashed it against the King's head. The gesture caught him by surprise, giving her the chance to run, but then he grabbed her leg, causing her to stumble forward and she slammed her head on the floor. Then, everything went black.

Alina stared at the body slumped over on the ground. Her heart started pounding in her chest, her stomach coiled into knots. Was he dead? Had she killed him? A wave of nausea suddenly hit her, making her want to wretch and she doubled over in pain. Regicide. She'd committed regicide and they were going to hang her for it. Of all the ways to die, she'd never thought it would be by hanging. Of course she'd never thought herself capable of taking a life either – no matter how despicable the King may have been. Oh god, she had to run. She had to get out of there.

Then she heard voices in the next room, even though the door hadn't been opened, and realized it was too late. Her life was about to come to an end. Resignation sank in. Defeated, she sat on one corner of the massive bed, staring down at the King's corpse.

"Alina?"

She recognized Genya's voice but didn't bother to turn around. "I think I killed him."

"He's not dead, simply unconscious."

She tensed immediately upon hearing Kirigan. Angry by how flippant he sounded, she turned around to confront him.

Genya gasped, but it was Kirigan who had the visceral reaction. He seemed to pale right in front of her eyes, his dark eyes growing somehow darker – or maybe she was just projecting. After all, she'd imagined he cared about her but then he'd given her to the King like she was a toy to share. Whatever she saw didn't last long because he was back to his normal self again within seconds. "What happened?" he asked quietly.

A bitter laugh escaped her throat, even though it hurt like hell. "Your beloved King attacked me and I fought back. I guess that surprises you."

Genya rushed over to where the King was on the floor and she knelt down next to his body. "There's blood all over him."

Kirigan started undoing the buttons of his kefta, Like the military leader that he was, he went into action, issuing orders. "Genya, get up." Removing the heavy coat, he marched towards Alina. "Take Alina back to my quarters. Use the tunnels."