Freerunner

Chapter 19

The world was a blur all around me. My insides burned as an endless stream of blood poured from my mouth. Black clouds billowed, filling the room with darkness. I hacked out more blood, watching it pool around my feet. My knees gave way beneath me and I collapsed to the floor. My clothes, saturated with the pooling red, weighed me down. I couldn't raise myself up. I was too heavy. I tilted my head sideways to stop everything from seeping back down my throat. For a moment, I was relieved. I wasn't going to drown.

I watched the clouds dance around, ominous but innocuous. The haze just continually crept towards me then retreated as if it were frightened. However, I was nothing to fear. At least, not while I was in this state. As if the smoke could read my thoughts, it rushed towards me, engulfing my body in its oily grasp. I thrashed against it but it's impossible to seize vapour. I found myself restricted by my soaked clothes. The blackness filled my lungs and shrouded my eyes. I couldn't win. I stopped trying to throw it off and resigned myself to the cruel mist.

I awoke on the stone floor of a solitary cell, spluttering out a foul-smelling liquid. A layer of slime covered my skin. I promptly heaved myself off the floor and pushed up against the wall. I screwed up my face at the sight. The ground was drenched in water mixed in with what looked and smelt like vomit. Judging by the way my throat still burned, it was pretty fresh. I threw off my jacket in disgust. Still, despite the grossness of the situation, I couldn't help but wonder where all the water came from. A dull pain throbbed from the back of my head. Gingerly, I reached up and touched the spot. I felt a large scab scratch against my fingers. When I withdrew my hand, a chunk of my hair came with it. I stared at the brittle pink strands, mixed with dried blood and diluted vomit. I sunk back down to the ground, curling up into a ball.

Suddenly, the door burst open. I jumped and slipped back into the muck. I shuddered at the grotesque humiliation of the situation. I was literally lying in my own filth. The person at the door just watched me writhe on the floor. In her hand was a long tube. She seemed to ask me something with uncertainty. I stared for a moment, trying to comprehend what she said.

Oh, I realised. She wants me to sit up.

I pushed myself up against the wall again as she hosed down the cell. All the contents of my stomach were washed out of the cramped space. Once she was done, she placed a tray over the threshold and shut the door behind her. Even after she'd sprayed the place, the smell still lingered.

Once I'd eaten, I did what I could to stop the madness invading my brain. I took one of my shoes off and repeatedly threw it up in the air and attempted to catch it, created anagrams from the words on my arm patch and even tried to etch the gryphon onto one of the walls. Every so often, I'd miss and catch my hand on the rock I used to etch. My knuckles were grazed and my fingers bled but it didn't bother me. When I finished, I sat back and admired my work. It was the crudest yet most accomplished thing I'd done all month. For the first time in forever, I smiled. I began to wipe away some of the crumbling bits of wall from the etching when the door opened again. At first I thought it was a guard back with dinner but I had no such luck.

Alex stood there with a hand still on the door, watching me with a rueful expression. I stared back, mustering up as hateful a glare as I could.

"Rose?" He said quietly. "Could you come with me for a sec?" The way he said it made it seem like I had a choice. My eyes narrowed further.

"No Alex, unless you want to get one of your traumatized little soldiers to drag me along," I spat. He didn't respond. I rolled my eyes and turned back to my sketch. It would be so easy to push him over and run but I had a feeling he had a guard or two somewhere nearby. I heard him walk a few steps away then returned with company. Their footsteps were firm but familiar. I immediately assumed they were guards and turned around.