Chapter Twenty-Four

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Every moment awake was painful. Physically, but more so emotionally. After two days, it had began to take a toll. Malachai made sure I was drugged up, my mouth remained dry and stomach empty. It was difficult to tell what was real and what wasn't at this point, as I seemed to drift in and out of sleep. I'd been unable to figure out an escape plan from the hell I was in - I'd not even been able to make out where the door had been. I was kept in darkness, and through that my senses had been enhanced, like my sense of smell. I could smell the strong odor of my own urine in which I'd released from my bladder. The drugs made me incompetent. That was the worst part - being unable to do anything. Sitting alone, in and out of sleep, left to my own thoughts. 

"Good morning." Malachai's voice echoed through the hollow room. I searched around unhappily as light came from behind me. That must have been where the door was. I couldn't see much before it had shut again, but I knew that something had changed. They'd seemed to put a lot of effort into making me feel insane, as gradually the Gholies were removing pieces of furniture. I hadn't noticed at first, however after a few hours I felt the walls glaring at me, a lack of cover over them. 
"I have a surprise for you today, buttercup." He smiled, waving his hands before me. I didn't know what to expect, of if I would be able to stay awake to find out what exactly I would find before me. It seemed out of nowhere a figure appeared, as if I'd been dreaming. I didn't out the possibility that I'd fallen asleep for a few seconds, and that was why I'd been fooled. The male was breathing heavily; struggling to find the oxygen in the air to fill his lungs. In some sort of sick way, it had reminded me of my addiction to cigarettes. I missed that, going outside, the cold breeze hitting my face as I gasped to poison the air inside of me. 

As the person stepped closer toward me, or in better words- as he was shoved, I could only just make out the face. 

Jughead. 

A cry fell from my mouth. It was like a spike had gone through me, ripping deeply beneath the layers I thought would protect me. Instead, it was the inside I'd needed protection from. The attachment to other beings was what caused me pain, and in turn a greater suffering. I allowed myself to be hurt, because I loved. What most searched for; appreciation, relationships, family, it was what I despised. Because I let myself feel for other people, they were hurt. It would have been better if on my first day, I ignored Jughead. I blocked out the Serpents. Then, I'd be safe, at home with James, with my family. Because of my ignorance I'd lost them too. 

I was pulled out of my thoughts by the sound of a metal pole dragging on the hard floor. It was a familiar noise, in which was associated with the Gholies. They'd often attempt to inflict fear on others by using their instruments to make sound. Only, it wasn't music they were creating. I knew now the floor had been concrete, as that was the only way it would have made the harsh, sharp sound it had. That meant we must have been in a basement, or in a warehouse of some kind. 

smack. 

My mouth fell open as I watched Malachai's bat swing across my view, and Jughead fall to the ground. I hadn't expected him to do that, however I knew somewhere inside me it was inevitable. Despite the Gholies technique, they didn't earn a peep from me. I sat in silence, tears trickling down my cheeks in horror, and shock. No words could describe the immense loss, grief and terror in my veins. It was no longer anger, it was sadness. I wanted this to be it. I wanted death. I closed my eyes tightly, wishing this was the last moment I would have to feel the pain I'd endured. 

Malachai's laughs erupted from him as I felt him walk past me. For the first time in hours, I sat up, squeezing my eyelids more, wincing at whatever he was about to do to me. I waited. But instead, a bright light flickered through the room, burning my eyes. I hadn't an idea as to what this was, perhaps he was leaning to a new method of torture, or I'd been plain crazy. He'd turned on the light. It dawned on me. He'd make the first thing I'd see in two days my best friend on the floor, dying. With much reluctance, I opened my eyes, to find much confusion. Nothing had been on the floor in front of me. No Jughead. No blood, no pole or Gholie. What there was, was the room, exactly as it had been before. Nothing had moved in the slightest. 

"What is it, Jasmine?" Malachai's voice sent goosebumps down my spine. He knew I was cracking, and after such a short amount of time I was embarrassed. I thought I was stronger than this, but clearly I'd been wrong. I was weak. 
"You're already going insane, aren't you darling?" I shook beneath his gaze, crying. I was scared of him. 
He extended his arm before me, allowing a grubby finger to wipe my cheek. To me, his skin was like ice on a burning fire. It was wrong, yet for some reason I craved some sort of comfort, even from him. A simple flick of a tear had made me want more attention, and more admiration. I missed FP more so now. I wished to feel his hands on me one more time. 

"Do you want to die?" Malachai asked me. He'd asked me this yesterday, and I'd called him many names, squabbling on at him and telling him I'd kill him. But today, I nodded. I was ready. 
"You, Jasmine Cole, mother of Serpents, you want a Gholie to kill you?" I nodded again, hanging my head. I looked at the floor, wondering how I'd dreamed of something so vivid, so horrifying. To my response, Malachai simply laughed. 
"How long has it taken you to crack? A week?" He questioned, smiling. "Not that long, was it?" 
"W-What?" I replied, my throat raw and screaming. I was so thirsty. He couldn't have been right, I'd only been here for a few days. I'd not slept properly, only a few hours at a time, so it couldn't have been longer.
"Oh. You've lost track of time." He grinned, winking at me. "I've brewed enough drinks to know how to fool your mind. You've been here seven days, Jasmine. And you'll be here for a lot more before I help you." 

Cigarette Burns // FP JonesWhere stories live. Discover now