• VII •

0 0 0
                                    

Will had stopped keeping track of how long he thought he had been in here. He was not doing well, but Senka looked awful. Her figure was thin, as if the life had been literally sucked out of her, her clothes so baggy that they could fall off. There were circles under her eyes, her lips dry and cracked, and she was barely moving. She hadn't spoken for a while either. Will was worried, she looked as if she would die. His eyes began to close, he didnt have the energy to keep them open anymore. They were being fed, but it was barely enough to survive, not to mention it tasted awful.

He heard movement in the darkness of his rest, probably the door opening, but he didn't care anymore. He felt pressure on his ankles, then his wrists, and before he knew it he was laying on the ground and being dragged somewhere.

"Jesus dude, are you even alive?"

Will heard the voice, but couldn't tell who it was. He was dragged further into what looked to be a bedroom, the lack of the light he had become used to making the room feel cold and uninviting. His 'escort' let go of him, leaving him to lay on the floor.

His eyes finally opened a bit later to a gray ceiling. He sat up and took a look at his new surroundings.

The room was basically a plush prison cell. There was a cot in the center and a desk with a small lamp.

"Don't get comfortable." A voice said from behind him. William quickly turned toward where it was coming from.

The red-haired woman from before was sitting across the room, sprawled across a large armchair in the corner, a book open in her lap. "Don't worry," she said, seeming almost annoyed. "I won't hurt you."

"Wh- what so you want?" He said, sounding less brave than he wanted to.

"Aww, that stutter was almost adorable. *I* don't want anything. I was told to keep you calm while you're being transferred. I was assigned to keep an eye on you, since you're *soo powerful*" She said in a mocking tone, Will could tell she didn't want to be there, there was a strange tenderness to her that he hadn't seen in their last interaction.

"Transferred? To where?"

"To here, dumbass," She looked up from her book. "You think you were dragged in here so you could be more comfortable? Your friend is still in that room, you know."

"Why? What did she do?"

"We thought she would be more powerful, but if a light switch can turn her off she's of no use to us. Now they're just keeping her as...collateral, if you will."

"For what?"

"For you," She spoke as if it was obvious. "It's clear you care about her, and they want you to listen, so they threaten her until you obey." She looked off, as if thinking about something.

"What do they want me for?"

"You and the damn questions," She moaned, "They want you so they can use you. Why do you think they have me? I didn't get these scars from falling off a fucking scooter."

William didn't know what to say. Something about this girl was different than when she had first spoken to him. He saw her face clearer now, the clear skin littered with scars of various depths. Some looked as though they had been there for years, others like they had happened mere days ago.

She closed her book and stood up, heading for the door. "You'll have a long day tomorrow, Will. Get some rest." She spoke gently, like she almost felt sorry for him. She left the room, leaving will alone again in the monotone room.

He layed down on the thin mattress, thinking about the redhead. Something about her seemed off, though he couldn't put his finger on it. He layed there thinking until his eyelids grew heavy and he was pulled into a deep sleep.

Winter's BurnWhere stories live. Discover now