Jovie stopped running as the wooden doors creaked open, releasing a surge of cold air.
She stopped to look at the building that she was going to spend until God knows when. It wasn't exactly the futuristic building she thought it would be.
She peered inside the windows, to see what she would be living in. The view was barely visible, but she could make out a multitude of colors. A black squared object, a silver thing which shone in the light, and...
Red.
Crimson, fresh red liquid dripped from the windows.
"What the actual fu—" Jovie muttered to herself as she fixated on the red blotches. One tiny drop fell onto her shirt, tainting it blood red.
She didn't think she would ever make it out of this.
She had heard of it as some prison for Magicians, if they were caught. And a prison was supposed to be something to reform people, not murder people. So she was going to be murdered!?
Nonononononono.
She backed away, stifling a whimper. Thunder boomed from outside, the pain vibrating in her ears. The blood was still dripping, forming streaks of red in the walls and seeping through its holes. So this was why the bricks looked old–
She shut her eyes, dazed from the impending reality that she was probably not going to leave this place. She realised not a single person had asked if she was going to make it out.
"Welcome to the Gates of Hell." boomed thousands of voices, all in unison. The thousands of voices poked at her eardrums, wanting to break into what little sanity she had left in her brain.
As the echoes faded away, a wave of relief washed over Jovie until she could feel someone's breath growing closer and closer to her. It was warm, almost tender.
"Come on in." it whispered.
Word count: 306
YOU ARE READING
Metanoia
FantasyOnce upon a time, there was a little girl named Jovie Everhart with the power to change the weather...whose sister was murdered. By lightning, they had presumed, for not a bruise was on Tally. But Jovie knew SHE murdered her. That was why everyone...
