Champion of the Bots ✔️

Chapter 13 ~ UNKNOWN

This story is dedicated to @Bydefinition 💖 She is the reason why this book is actually really decent 😆👌 Thank you again for all your advice and support 😬

"Wake up!"

The girl stirred. She was growing tired of that phrase. Wake up, they say. Wake up and tell us all your memories. Wake up so that the pain can swallow you whole again.

"What do you want from me?' She replied harshly and hoarsely to the man. She still hadn't seen his face, only the grey mask he wore that reached his eye bags.

"You are healed," the man replied. "Now get up."

The girl didn't believe him, but she tentatively reached behind to touch her naked back and—

The pain didn't come. The girl wanted to cry—in relief, in freedom, in jubilance. But she wasn't free. She needed to get out of the dreaded room, away from the dreaded, torturous grey-masked people surrounding her.

The girl tilted her head, confused. Two figures stood at the edge of the spotlight on her, wearing no grey masks or light green suits.

"Come with me," a trilling voice projected from one of the unknown figures.

The girl jumped slightly. She had never heard this voice before. Another person here to torture her? Cringing, the girl struggled to move, to get away; but her body was slightly numb.

"Come with me," the voice repeated, outstretching an elegant hand into the spotlight.

"I can't," the girl answered slightly irritatedly, unable to even lift her arms in despair.

The grey-painted fingers of the hand snapped, and the figure beside her moved. Before she could attempt to slide off her metal bed, two sturdy arms enveloped her and carried her off. They entered a long, echoey hallway; her heavy breathing seemed to knock off the grayish walls. Her eyes wandered around at her new surrounding, at the absence of any windows or doors—

Bright. Too bright. The fluorescent lights suddenly burned her eyeballs, making her squeeze tears out of the tip of her eyes. She clutched the soft, woolly shirt—

Whose shirt was she holding? The girl glanced up.

Even with her disoriented vision, the girl could tell that a man was carrying her. Her eyebrows furrowed—she knew this man. From the curve of his lips to the growing beard on his weak chin, she knew this man. She tried to lift her hand, to cup his soft skin, to feel warmth from another human; but her arms still felt numb as the dead. She wanted to speak, wanted to ask the questions bubbling inside her; but her throat clamped up.

"W-who are—" She cried out hoarsely, her words barely audible from the heavy footsteps of the man.

"Shush." The man pulled her close to his chest as he mumbled, "Stay still."'

Even his voice sent tingles of familiarity into the roots of her hair. She covered her face on his dark blue suit to hide her bright blush.

"I'm gonna save you," the boy whispered softly, his breath gently rubbing the top of her head. "Just wait a little."

"Edie, did you say something?"

Peeking from the warmth of his chest, the girl saw the owner of the grey-painted nails looking at her. Slim, slightly short, the woman walked with power. Not elegance, not confidence, power. The woman now walked backwards, her legs expertly walking straight, her eyes a glowing bright green.

"No, Samantha, I didn't say anything," the boy, Edie, replied.

"Okay, you can put that girl down." Samantha raised her grey index finger and pointed it to the stone floor. "Now."

Edie didn't reply, only looked at the girl again with those gentle eyes. Then, he slowly peeled away the girl's fingers clutched on his woolen shirt.

"N-no!" The girl mumbled out, clawing harder on the boy's shirt. "Don't leave me. Don't leave!"

"Shh, shh, it's okay," the boy lulled. "I'll be right here." The boy slowly plopped the girl onto the cold floor, holding her waist to keep her steady.

"Are you ready?" Samantha queried, placing her hands on her hips. "He's waiting."

The girl panicked. The boy nodded. The woman placed her index finger onto a small slab of stone on the wall. The wall yawned open into a wide crack.

Squaring her shoulders, Samantha stepped over the boulder and into a dark room.

Her knees wobbling, the girl clung harder to the boy next to her. "I'm scared," she muttered out.

"You were never scared of anything," the boy murmured, his hand snaking towards hers and squeezing her trembling hand tight. "Go in there, prove to him that you are still the Ola I know; and I'll see you in the Garden very soon. Go!"

Confused and wobbly, the girl climbed over the crack with her pale hands. When she looked back, the wall swallowed up the crack; and the boy was gone. When she looked forward, she saw the slim figure of Samantha standing next to a black-haired man, glittering glass windows surrounding them.

The man's hair was slightly tainted with grey, and his frail body leaned on an exquisite cane—veins of blue lined the thin whitish grey body with a grey marble head of a serpent sat at the top and seemed to hiss at her. He began approaching her, limp after limp from his lame leg, thud after thud from his slithering cane.

Panic. It consumed her as she ran against the wall, battering her firsts against it. "Help! Please! Please!"

She waited for the boy to come, to carry her into his safe arms, to whisk her away from this horrible place. "Edie! You said you're right there!" She pounded on the wall again and again.

But he didn't come, and the girl lost all hope.

I will only include three character's perspectives in this whole book, so don't worry (unless, you know, an amazing, brilliant, fabulous, fantastic new character pops up in my head).
Ola? Who's that? Well, sorry, you just gotta stay tune!
I will definitely be updating and editing this chapter and others 😁 so, you know, you can always go back and reread everything! Also, thank you all so much for making The Road Home rise up to rank #338! This is the first time that I published an actual book, and I am so so happy that it actually has a rank!! So, please, keep voting and commenting and being awesome 😘😜😁