Arise (Book Three of The Syrenka Series)

Chapter 1

One 

Eviana 

I never thought I would beg for death. It simply wasn't my style. I was stubborn and determined, not broken and weak. When life turned against me, I fought back. I never gave up. So why was it so hard for me to open my eyes right now?  

The door creaked open with a groan. A single beam of light catapulted my room into an altogether different landscape. The dark walls were highlighted enough for me to see the intricate ridges and grooves of the coral stones. Skeletons of an ancient reef surrounded me on all four sides of my prison. The irony wasn't lost on me. I was a creature of the sea, trapped by a once living animal now reduced to nothing more than a stone. Its purpose in life stolen away the moment it was removed from its home. Just like me. 

A silhouette of a small woman temporarily blocked the light and I was thrust back into darkness. I'd become accustomed to the dark. It was safe and comfortable and it matched the way I felt inside. Alone and empty. 

"La sirenita?" a tiny voice called into the shadows of the room. When I didn't answer, she opened the door wider and I threw up my arm to block the light from my eyes. "Ah, la sirenita. Ven a comer."  

She placed the plate on the floor and crouched down next to it. Holding out her hand, she beckoned me to come toward her and the fresh food, coaxing me like a stray dog. 

"Venga!" 

I shook my head and turned away from her. We'd been through this numerous times. She would come in, put the plate on the floor, and leave when I refused to acknowledge her existence. As if on cue, I heard her sigh and gather up the uneaten food she'd brought in a few hours earlier. My Spanish was rough, but I swear she mumbled something about me being a stupid little mermaid before slamming the door shut again. 

Not long after she'd leave, another stranger would enter the room. He was much larger and smelled like he bathed in dead fish. Although he never spoke to me, I could hear him breathe as if it were difficult for him to use his nose. At first I was scared and would try to fight. But it was always a useless attempt because the moment he got close enough I would feel the prick of the syringe. Within seconds, the world blurred and I'd slip back into an endless coma of sleep and despair. 

It was the only routine in my life since I'd been kidnapped by my estranged father. Estranged probably wasn't even the right description although I just recently discovered his true identity. Words like delusional, crazy, or psychotic would be a better depiction of the man who killed my parents, my uncle, and my friends along with many others. His insane ideas and extreme behavior created a divide amongst my kind and I would imagine that by now, we were officially at war with one another. 

I had been trapped in this room for days. Or at least that was my assumption. The back of my head, where my loving father had knocked me out, still ached. I hadn't been in any water, although I could sense some nearby, so my body was unable to heal quickly.  

If I could just get to the water, maybe I could escape. Maybe it would give me the desire to fight against my captors. Each time I got an injection, my will to survive seemed to fade into a haze like my surroundings. I knew that I was being drugged but I couldn't bring myself to care anymore. 

When the door squeaked open again, I didn't even bother to acknowledge the large, fish-smelling man. He was right on schedule with his syringe and when he stuck the needle into my shoulder, I felt a tear roll down my cheek. Maybe this would be the last day I had to endure. 

But when I opened my eyes to find the tiny Spanish speaking lady changing out my food plate again, I realized that my life wasn't over yet. It took me a few moments before I noticed that she wasn't speaking to me, although she was talking a mile a minute. I could hear the heavy breathing of the fish man who grunted in acknowledgement of her comments.