Classified || 2 || ✔️ mature

01 | Holland

Pain swims through my system, my body heavy with it, head pounding steadily with my heart.

Groaning softly, I twist to the side, hands shifting under my body, the feel of cool sheets flutter against my fingertips, a mattress sinking below my weight.

Grunting, I force my eyes open, taking in my surroundings.

White assaults me, peppered with the smell of disinfectant. Staring at the wall opposite the bed I lay on, my own reflection stares back, a dark mirror lining the three walls of the room, the one at my back bare and white.

Dark shades line my under eyes, my cheeks gaunt. Pushing from the bed I walk closer to, my own breathing the only noise in the too silent room.

I cock my head at my reflection, stepping closer. Lifting a hand, a place it flat on the wall, the glass cold to the touch.

With a flicker the mirror clears, the man on the other side causing a scowl to pull at my features.

Samael's face is stoic, no emotion swimming in the dark depths of his eyes.

"Where are my team?" I demand, standing toe to toe with my father.

A light smirk takes over his features and he lifts his own hand, lifting it to his ears as the smirk on his face turns taunting.

I narrow my eyes, slamming a fist on the think glass between us. He doesn't flinch, only lifts a condescending brow back before lofting a hand to press a button on the side of the wall that I can't see.

"No need for the dramatics, Holland."

"Where are my team?" I repeat, the  words a level of calm I don't feel.

Samael shrugs, "Nearby." His head moves to look down the hallway and then the other way, "Have to keep you all where I can keep an eye on you." He eye flick to the corner of the room and I lift my head, turning to the corner and narrowing my eyes at the camera.

Spinning back to face my father, I take a deep breath in. "What are you planning on doing?" I say, "The same thing you did to Scarlett?"

Samael tips his head back in a cruel laugh, "I've evolved from that, there's so much more I can offer now."

His hand leaves the wall, and he dips his chin at me before walking away. I match his steps along the wall until I can't anymore, staring at him as he fixes the lapels of his suit and continues walking, his back disappearing from my view and the wall facing the hallway darkening to my charcoal reflection once more.

Grunting, I scram in frustration, slamming a fist against the other wall to my side.

It flickers and clears, my heart climbing up my throat at the man on the other side as I almost stumble.

Slamming a fist against the wall again, I hiss at the pain in my knuckles before the man finally turns, his blonde hair speckled with blood and a bruise blooming on his jawline.

"Clay." I mutter the word, my lips forming his name as his eyes widen and he rushes to the wall separating us, his mouth moving but no sound reaches me.

Despair clings to my every move as I shake my head at him, pointing to my ears.

A focus my attention on his mouth, trying to form the words in my mind.

'Are you okay?'

I look back into Clays eyes, nodding before raising my brow to shoot the question back at him.

He nods, and I raise the second brow, pointing to his bruises.

His chin drops and eyes narrow beofre he nods again, the finality in the movement stopping any other questions I may have had.

Nodding, I glance over his room, the space very similar to my own, a bed pushed against the wall, white sheets on a single mattress and not much else.

Clays hand waves in front of my face and I blink, lifting my head to stare at him and he flicks his chin, pointing past my shoulder.

I turn and almost crumble at the man in the other room beside mine, slamming a fist against the wall much like I had.

Stumbling back from Clays side, I rush to the other, placing my palm flat against the wall when Archer stops, his fist curling before he flattens his palm to mine, his eyes questioning as they move up and down my body, checking for injury.

"I'm fine." I say to his perusal, even though he can't hear me. I never wished I could mind speak as much ad I do at this moment or at least learnt sign language.

My gaze takes in his own face, the bruise along his cheekbone bright red, the skin split from the force of whatever hit him, or he hit.

I curl my fingers against the glass, turning back to look towards Clays side but the glass between us is dark once more and I tilt my head.

Turning back to Archer, I shoo him back and he furrows his brows but does as I instruct, backing up from the wall.

Stepping back myself, I count the seconds in my head before the wall darkens, blocking Archer from my view.

Fifteen seconds.

Stepping forward, I tap the wall, my shoulders relaxing when I see Archer once more.

He shakes his head sadly at me, looking me up and down and finally I look at myself, noticing the dirt and grime over my clothes, blood splattered my hands, my mind too preoccupied to notice.

Curling my fist up, I ignore the memory that comes with the blood on my hands, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Find her.

Scarlett's last words pop into my head and I squeeze my eyes shut.

Find who, Scarlett? Who is she?

Opening them again, I look at Archer across from me, moving to sit on the floor, leaning up against the wall.

Archer follows me down, his shoulder flush with mine against the wall, his hand lifting to push against the glass and I lift my head, letting my hand touch his through the inch thick wall between us.

He dips his chin, his eyes earnest, almost questioning and I answer the same silent question that Clay had asked only minutes prior.

"I'm fine." I say softly, knocking a knuckle against the wall, and he nods his head, letting my know he is too and I relax only a fraction.

Leaning my head against the glass, I let exhaustion finally pull me back under.