Seduce Me ~ The Path To Forgiveness

Path Three, Step Seven: Choice and Outcome

I'm curled up in the corner of my cell when I awake, knees pulled weakly against my chest in a vain attempt to keep warm. I glance over to the crack at the bottom of the door hopefully but, once again, there's nothing there. How long can one survive without food? Although it's impossible to tell time in this accursed place it feels as though it's been weeks, perhaps even months, since I've had food or even seen another living soul. The small toilet at the opposite side of the room had kept me hydrated for a while but I can't seem to find the energy to drag myself over, my throbbing head spinning with every movement. I'm endlessly surround by an eerie calm, thick and oppressive, and I can do nothing to disturb it, my mangled throat left a soundless void.

I allow my eyes to slip back shut as I exhale through cracked lips, wishing once more for death to take me, when an unfamiliar voice breaks the silence. "Is someone there?"

An older male voice, filled with a convincing tinge of worry, echoes through the small cell. I peel my eyes open, pulling myself up onto my elbows at a snails pace as he continues. "I came to help you, you don't need to be afraid."

Trick or not I'd do anything for even a morsel of food, though it makes little difference since I have no way to call for help. My arms are too weak to bear my sudden weight, head cracking painfully against the concrete as they slip out from under me, and I lie in a daze as the voice continues to speak.

He tells me his name, William, and what he is, a powerful warlock. While my starved body struggles against the mild concussion I surely received he tells me about his life, and the lives of others he's helped. I can't say how much time passes before my head finally stops swimming, his calming voice never pausing. He tells me now of a boy he saved, one whose mother had made an attempt on his life before ending her own before him, as I struggle once again to prop myself up on my arms.

"His father blamed him, punishing the boy any chance he could." The door is only a few feet away but it feels like miles as I drag myself across the smooth concrete, a daunting task that would bring tears to my eyes if there were any left. "I could hear him call out to me when he could bear the abuse no more, just like I heard you call to me."

My skin burns as I finally collapse before the door, rubbed raw, but I don't allow myself a moments rest lest I lose the will to move again. I reach for the iron door, my motions ridiculously sluggish, and slam my fist against it with all the pathetic force I can muster. The sound is so quiet it doesn't even echo in the hollow room but it's enough.

"There you are. Dying by the sound of it." His words come laced with pity but I'm far too tortured to be offended, pity me just save me.

The air before me shimmers, like light hitting a glass window, and a hand reaches through the void, callused and wrinkled. For only a moment do I hesitate, bracing myself for whatever may be on the other side, before taking his hand and allowing him to pull me through.

I raise my arm, shielding my eyes from the cruel rays of light that pour through the slight crack in the curtains, when the fabric wrapped around it catches my eye. I'm confused for a moment as I stare at the black material but the nights events come back quickly as I notice Damiens prone form beside me, a hand tangled in the hair as he lays on his back with his face turned away.

'Damien?' I call softly and he groans in response, the bed shifting beneath us as he turns to face me.

"Shhh, it's not morning yet." Comes his sleepy reply and I can't help but smile as his eyes sink back shut.

'The sun begs to differ.' I smirk as I sit up, feeling more well rested than I have in years, which is enough to make him crack his eyes open, stretching his arms above his head with a yawn.