Spellbinders Secret

The Past Always Comes Back

I don't know how long I've been here for.

 One week? Two weeks? A month? It doesn't matter anymore. 

Everyday is the same. Arran gets up, kisses me goodbye and leaves me here, all on my own, for the rest of the day. That part doesn't really bother me. The less I see of him, the better. But what does really annoy me, is that I have nothing to do. No books to read, no violin to play, and Arran's not dumb enough to give me a needle and thread to sew with. He knows I'd find someway to use it to escape. It would appear that he also prepared this room specifically for me, because there's nothing, I repeat, nothing, that I can use to escape. He doesn't even let me have hairpins because he knows I'd just use them to pick the lock, and that's only if I somehow get rid of this stupid chain. But I will find away. If there's one thing I've learnt, it's that nothing is ever completely invincible. Even me. 

After all those years, and all those walls I built around myself, I let someone in. Perhaps, under other circumstances, it wouldn't have necessarily been a bad thing, but being so far away from Callum is making my heart ache even more than when I saw him dancing with that she- demon at the ball. Now that I look back on things, I wished that I'd spent more time with him. 

And now I have nothing. 

Out of nowhere the door opens. I glance at the clock on the wall. 

11:23

Frowning, I look at the three hulking forms in front of me. One of them, I realise, is Arran. The other two are hunched over, black, hooded, robes concealing their faces. Perhaps, if I were human, I'd think they were people, but the thing is, I'm not. I'm a Spellbinder, and I'm a member of the Resistance, and I know what these things are. 

They're wraiths; creatures created from the evils of the world. 

"Good morning Ella," Arran greets me casually. In response, I shoot him a glare. 

"What do you want?" I snap. Arran smiles and circles me, talking all the while.

"I need you to use your.... gift," he says. A shiver runs through my body, and I'm unable to suppress the cold fear that settles in my gut like a block of ice. He wouldn't. He couldn't. 

"I don't think so. You promised," I remind him, my voice calmer than I feel. It's true though. When I  arrived here, I made him promise to never use me for the Cursed's purposes. Arran chuckles, as though the idea amuses him.

"Ella, my sweet, sweet, Ella. I'm the King of Darkness. I'm the sovereign of murderers, thieves, and, most importantly, liars." 

Heat rushes to my cheeks. My blood feels cold, but my skin feels hot. The room starts to spin and I no longer know what to think. Actually, I do have one thought. And its constantly reminding me that I was  a fool to ever think he'd keep a promise. 

My need to escape becomes desperate. Stupidly desperate. 

Arran leans into me, a triumphant grin twitching at the corners of his mouth. Suddenly, I kick him and wrap the chain attached to my ankle around his neck. Arran makes a strange choking sound before a burning pain courses through my body. Screaming, my grip loosens and I tumble to the floor. My body aches, as though it's just been beaten to pulp  and left to dry in the sun. Arran stands up, looking shocked, and, in spite of my tired body, I still manage to glare at him.

"You don't keep your promises, then I won't keep mine," I hiss, my voice sounding low and dangerous. Instead of his usual sickly sweet smile, his eyes burn with a hateful fire. 

"Well, I tried asking nicely," he says. My heart skips a beat. What could he mean by that? What other torture could he have up his sleeve? 

Whatever it is, it can't be nearly as bad as what I've already been through. Or at least, that's what I thought. 

"And now look at what you've gone and done," Arran continues, his smug smile back to where it used to be. "Now I can't prove to my fellow members of the Cursed that you'll be docile and meek, oh well." Now his smile turns into something vile and wicked, or rather, more so than usual.

"What are going to do?" I ask nonchalantly, cutting off whatever he was about to say. "Beat me? Hurt me? Threaten to kill the people I love?" I tip my head back and laugh maniacally. "None of those things will work. Leo's tougher than any of your soldiers, and now that they know who's behind the attacks, they'll have increased the security around Callum. And as for torturing me... you saw my memories, you know that nothing could ever compare to what your kind did to me."

"Well, I guess that means you won't mind if I reunite you with an old... acquaintance," Arran tells me vaguely. I stare at him. Who would I know that could possibly cause me pain? Arran sees my confusion and feigns disbelief. "Oh, you don't know who it is?" He asks. I continue to stare at him, not even daring to blink. His grin widened. "It's the first person you ever actually knew."

I stiffen. 

No. No, no, no. It can't be. Not even Arran, as sick as he is, would think to do that to me. 

I try to tell myself that he's bluffing, that he couldn't actually do what he's implying, but another, broad form steps out of the shadows, silencing my doubts. He's here. 

"Lock the doors when I leave," Arran tells the figure, still cloaked by darkness. "I don't have the heart for this, but it needs to be done," he mutters, before walking out. I close my eyes, thinking that if I don't see it, it won't be real. 

The figures footsteps sound like thunder as his huge form approaches me. I didn't even realise I was shaking until I clasped my hands together, trying to make myself seem smaller. Trying desperately to be invisible, to disappear, or fade away to a distant world. I tried, and I tried, and I still tried, but nothing could block out the harsh reality. 

"You're still the same weak brat that you were twelve years ago," a deep, rough voice whispers. I feel the hot, putrid breath brush past my cheeks. Carefully, I open my eyes and stare at the man before me. The one that's haunted my dreams for so long. 

I stare at the pudgy face of the Big Man. 

***

Thwack! 

I stumble back, my head hitting one of the bed posts. 

"You're just as stubborn as you were, you worthless piece of garbage!" the Big Man roars at me. I don't respond. I don't even move. Maybe if I just stay here...

Smack! His hand slaps  across my face. My head lolls to one side. 

I am numb. I am wrapped in a shell. No one can hurt me.

Thud!

 He kicks my body to the floor. I cringe slightly as I feel my head smack into the wooden floor, making everything in the room wobble for a moment. The impact pounds my head, again and again, like a gong after its been rung. Slowly, but surely, I slip into blackness, but not before I have one more triumphant thought. 

I won. I didn't give in.