𝕕𝕒𝕞𝕒𝕘𝕖𝕕 𝕘𝕠𝕠𝕕𝕤: 𝕒 𝕓𝕚𝕝𝕝𝕪 𝕙𝕒𝕣𝕘𝕣𝕠𝕧𝕖 𝕗𝕒𝕟𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟

ℂ𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟝: 𝕌𝕟𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕘𝕚𝕧𝕚𝕟𝕘

Darcy opened her eyes to a bright light shining in her face, which only intensified the unforgiving pounding in her head. After blinking a few times and shaking off the migraine, she began to survey her surroundings. The walls and floor of the room were covered with black tarp, the only light being the lamplight shining in her face. She glanced down at herself, finding herself sitting down in a wooden chair with her hands duct taped behind her. She closed her eyes, trying to remember what happened before she opened her eyes.

Billy's Camaro. Leather seats. Eyes as blue as heartbreak staring into my own. Cold hands. Darcy's eyes widened with alarm. Where was Billy? And most importantly, where was she? Darcy writhed in the chair, frantically glancing around the room. "Billy? Billy?!"

Darcy perked at the sound of the door opening and closing behind her. She craned her neck to find Billy walking over and bringing a chair to sit on across from her. Her face brightened with hope until she saw the bandaged gash on his head and his broken nose. "Billy, what's going on?"

Billy leaned forward in his chair, studying Darcy. "I could ask you the same thing."

Darcy glanced around the room one more time. "Where are we? Why am I tied up?"

"Darcy, look at me."

Darcy turned her attention back to Billy, despite him ignoring all her questions. Was this some sort of prank? Was she at the police station again? Was Billy really a narc this whole time? She pushed down the unease curdling her stomach. "Billy, what happened to you?"

Billy remained expressionless, his face absent of emotions. "Darcy, what was the last thing you remember?"

Darcy glanced down at the duct tape around her wrists. "We...we were in your Camaro because you offered to drop me off at my house. And then you parked in my driveway and you turned to me, then..." Darcy paused, wracking her brain for an answer. It was hard to think with this migraine and this fuzzy feeling in her head. It was like a furry Calico cat playing whack-a-mole on her brain with a sledgehammer. "I...don't know. Then I woke up here, tied up."

Billy raised a brow. "Is that all you remember?"

Darcy scoffed. Why was he asking all these questions when she should be the one asking him? "Yes, now why am I tied up?!"

Billy leaned in towards Darcy, pointing to the gash on his head and his broken nose. "Do you know how I got this?"

Darcy would have thrown her hands up in the air if they weren't bound to the chair. "I don't know! But listen, you have to let me go—"

Billy shook his head. Was that regret on his face? "You gave these to me, Darcy. Don't you remember?"

Darcy fumed with frustration. "No, I don't." she began fidgeting with the duct tape, squirming in the chair. "Did you tie me up? Why did you tie me up?"

"Darcy," Billy began calmly, "do you remember the steel mill?"

What was all this nonsense Billy was talking about? Why couldn't he see that she needed his help? "No, I don't! Let me go!"

"I will if you can answer one more question."

Darcy glared at Billy, disregarding the flickering lamplight in her face. "No, let me go now!"

"Darcy, who is the Mage?"

"I don't know, Billy!" Darcy gave a fierce tug against the duct tape, but just like Billy, they wouldn't budge. "Billy, let me go, please!"

Instead, Billy stood up and walked towards the door, giving her a sidelong glance. "I'll be back soon, Darcy."

"Billy, wait!" But Billy had already closed the door on Darcy's pleas. Darcy sank against her chair, thinking, thinking, thinking. What happened between Billy dropping her off at her house and now? Had his charm all been a sick act to prove that she'd been behind Tommy's disappearance? If she was responsible, that is.

Darcy threw her head back and released a shriek of fury, the lightbulb above her shattering and coating the room in more darkness.