Ferry of Woe [malexmale]

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

I woke to a horrible headache.

I felt it right down my spine and spreading through my chest. I kept my eyes closed, afraid of waking up to a bright light, even though I'm sure there wasn't judging from the darkness behind my closed eyelids. I could hear an occasional drip, and the sound of papers fluttering somewhere and shifting shoes on a stone floor...

No, marble, I realized, managing to lift a heavy hand to place on the floor out in front of me, feeling the smoothness of it. The air was cold and damp. I wrinkled my nose at the smell of moth balls, well water, dirt, and just general ancient funk. I forced my eyes open, grimacing at how heavy and sore they felt.

I found myself laying sprawled out on my side, one arm thrust under my head across the floor, my other resting on my side. I was still wearing a blood stained t-shirt and jeans. I frowned at it, confused for a moment before everything came rushing back at once, along with a wave of nausea that had me rolling over to vomit on the floor.

I panted hard, reaching up to grasp at my chest, but the bloody gaping hole was already healed. I felt so hollow and empty inside, though. It hurt and for no reason, I wanted to cry. I slumped back on the floor, pausing to tilt my head up to see long steel bars cutting my cell off from what looked like a huge round room.

My eyes widened in recognition. It was the room in the labyrinth, the center of it all. I remembered the huge round table at the center with a model replica of the labyrinth. There were a few other desks in the room, all piled up with papers and scrolls. And much to my shock, Epimetheus was standing in the room with his back to my cell, flipping through a file folder with a serious frown on his face. His dark hair was swept back from his face, eyes narrowed on the pages. He wore black jeans and a torn army jacket over a camo tank top.

I blinked a few times. He hadn't seemed to notice I was awake. I pushed myself up slowly and quietly when I heard something behind me shift. I sucked in a sharp breath and whipped around, then froze at the sight in the corner of my small cell.

Hannibal was tightly bound by the familiar glowing gold rope used by Alexion to restrain gods and their powers. But he looked awful. His hair was wet, from what I wasn't sure, but swept back from his face to reveal the painful forked scar that ran through his eye and down his cheek, one of the forks sweeping into the corner of his mouth. He only wore a torn, wet sleeveless black turtleneck, revealing all the deep white and puckered scars decorating his arms, and a pair of tight leather pants with chains wrapped through the belt loops.

I glanced back out at Epimetheus, who had thrown down his file folder and was making his way toward one of the many rooms that lined the outside of the round room. I watched him leave, then turned back to Hannibal.

"Hannibal?" I whispered, trying to get his attention. His mismatched eyes flickered open slowly, and he was obviously dazed at first before his vision seemed to clear and he furrowed his brow. He gave a lazy tug at the restraints around him, then slumped back against the wall, tilting his head back.

"How did you get here?" I asked. He frowned a little more.

"That's what I'd like to know." He muttered dryly. I frowned curiously at that. So he had no idea why he was brought here. I remembered Prometheus saying something about a host, about needing a host to finish the ritual, and yet... Were they really going to use Hannibal? Why did they bring me? They had my heart, that was all they needed from me...

Or did he need two hosts because there were two Khalian? If that was the case, we were both in trouble. I wasn't sure what went along with being a host for two Khalian, whatever that meant, but I wasn't going to enjoy it. That I knew already.