Alias: The Doyen Series book 1

(27) PRISONER

PICTURE: Aisling's cell (minus the light because they didn't give her that luxury).

WARNING: This chapter gets a little graphic with assault. It was a very hard chapter for me to write based on personal experiences. It took me 3 times as long to write this chapter than any other one due to the tears I couldn't stop from coming. If you are sensitive to this kind of content, PLEASE SKIP. LOVE YOU xo

A feather in the back of my skull wakes me up from my light slumber.

Kayde has been trying to connect with me for the last—however long I've been in this dungeon—but I've ignored him. I know that the second I open my mind to him, he will lose his.

He will find me

and he will get himself killed.

They've thrown me into a small room that is 2 times larger than a twin mattress. I can't lay down. I can't get comfortable.

I have no lighting,

no window,

no way of escape.

I have no idea what day it is, what time it is, if it is raining or absolutely gorgeous today. I feel like I am a mental patient, shut up in her room with no communication to the outside world.

They are taking away my humanity, my identity, my sense of self without having to lay 1 finger on me. It's genius and evil and cunning all at once.

It's almost as miserable as being beat to death.

They've "fed" me once. My meal consisted of a sandwich with nothing but ham on it. I have been locked in this cell for what feels like days. I'm so hungry that my organs may fail.

Maybe that's their plan: to starve me to death.

It's working.

I can hear Brayden's cries all day long. He has lost more and more control every day, his willpower diminishing I assume. My heart has broken 456 times since I've been here.

A slim boy, a few years older than me, came in the other day. I knew instantly that he was a witch. His light hair and dark, almost black, eyes freaked me out from the moment he walked in. When he touched me, I felt cold, like he was holding ice on my hand.

"Who are you?" I demanded when he came in. He ignored me. "Tell me your name," I yelled.

He looked up from his hooded eyes and laughed without humor. "What does it matter if you know my name?"

"It makes you more human," I answered without thinking.

He stopped smiling and looked away immediately. "I'm not human," he muttered.

"I know you aren't. Neither am I, obviously," I said, trying to find common ground. "But we are more human the more we care, the more we associate, the more we—" I was saying before he cut me off.

"Shut up," he snapped and was in my face before I could blink. He put his hands on my shoulders, holding me down. Just like with the girl from before, I couldn't move. He was a witch, no doubt. There was a slight pinch in my brain from a spell he had on me. "You're very beautiful," he mumbled without looking into my eyes. "So soft," he said whilst running a rough hand down my forearm.

His hands started to roam downwards, towards my chest. He stopped when his hand was cupping my right breast. He squeezed 3, 4, 5 times.