Witched

I'm not sure how I got here, but here I am, trussed and bound with my head aching. The rope is chafing my wrists and a disgusting rag is Duct-taped in my mouth, probably so I don't cuss these guys out, whoever they are. I can't see a thing, so it's either really, really dark, or I've been blindfolded. Not the greatest way to start my day, is it? I'd better explain myself. I guess it all started when, hmm, I guess I'm not sure how this started but I probably really p****d these people off. That's really the only explanation for why I'm sitting in the trunk of an SUV with my hands bound and a blindfold on. Did I mention these guys really hate me?

Suddenly, the SUV bumped to a stop. I heard slamming car doors, and the unmistakable clacking of heels on concrete. The trunk door opened and a flood of golden light bombarded my eyes. A rough hand stripped the blindfold from my eyes, and I could see the two figures in front of me.

Now I really wish they'd put the blindfold back on. A short, burly man with a shoved in nose stood looking my in the face. His breath was really bad. Like dumpster bad. A tall, elegant woman stood with her arms crossed behind him. "Hello, dearie. Welcome to your new home," he said gesturing grandly at a one story compacted concrete building. I gulped.

"Yes, well, it isn't much, but it's were you'll be spending, oh, the rest of your life," the woman said smugly. I swallowed hard, and tried to say, "What!?" but of course, the gag wouldn't allow me to. “Excuse me? What was that? I didn’t catch what you just said,” the woman said maliciously. “Oh! Do you want that gag off? I’m sorry, how dreadfully rude of me!” she exclaimed. I was sure I could catch a faint accent. By now the big man had lifted me from the trunk and set me down on the pavement. He shoved me towards the concrete building, but with my feet tied together, I couldn’t walk. I fell and stumbled to the concrete, skinning my knees. The woman cackled evilly.

“Hurts, don’t it!” the brute said. I gritted my teeth and got up slowly, not wanting to give them any pleasure. A tall man with dark brown hair emerged from the structure.

“Alek!” the woman squealed, brushing a lock of blonde hair from her eyes and racing to give him a hug. Alek looked at her with an expression of mild displeasure and she backed away.

“Is this the girl, Marcus?” Alek questioned. His voice was smooth and almost slimy. It gave me the shivers.

“Yes, sir,” Marcus answered, his head bowed in reverence. “It is she,” I tried to ask them why they were talking about me as if I wasn’t in the vicinity and a pair of hands bore into my shoulders, pressing me to the ground.

“Did she give you any trouble, Valeriya?” Alek asked, and this time the question was directed at the woman.

“Her? Give me trouble? Of course not!” Valeriya giggled scornfully. “She had no chance!”

“Good,” Alek mused, stroking his chin. I took the opportunity to struggle to my feet (or at least attempt to). Alek looked at me, and I could feel his cold black eyes boring into me. “Stay down, girl. You do not deserve to stand in my presence!” he hissed. I tried to speak, but the gag didn’t allow it. “Take it off. I want to hear her answer to this,” Alek growled. Marcus ripped the Duct-tape off my mouth and I spit the gag out of my mouth. “Speak, girl,” Alek demanded.

“The question should be why do you deserve to stand in my presence? You sent the Ugly Twins,” I said, gesturing at Valeriya and Marcus. “To come fetch me, so I must be worth more than you,” All three of them glared at me spitefully.

“Do you know who we are?” Valeriya hissed.

“Yes. I do know who you are. You are a trio of worthless bullies!” I shouted, infuriated. Alek grabbed my arm and dragged me towards the house.

“Valeriya, Marcus. Go stay at the safe house. I will be in contact later,” Alek said over his shoulder. After a few minutes of struggling, Alek thrust me through the door and into my worst nightmare. Prison.

***

The inside of the building was rows and rows of tiny cells. Alek dragged me by them, glancing in each one before coming to a stop in front of a grimy cell that looked even smaller than the others. “Do you want to tell me your name, girl?” Alek asked. I had three options. I could either a.) Tell him my real name, b.) Give him a fake name that was somewhat believable, or c.) Offer up a completely fake and hilarious name. Option C sounded pretty dangerous and stupid, so of course that was the one I chose.

“My name is Morgana Le Fay,” I said, smirking.

“Closer, than you think, child, closer than you think,” he muttered ominously. “Welcome to your new home,” he said, opening the cell door and throwing me in.

“Wait! You forgot to untie me!” I shouted, but he was already gone. I slumped against the wall and took in my surroundings. On one wall there was a dusty bench, hanging from the ceiling by chains. In the bottom left corner, there was a small bucket and a roll of toilet paper. On the wall opposite from me, there was a wooden bunk bed. A worn out blanket sat on each bunk. Right next to the bed, there was a narrow hallway leading to a different cell. I stood and walked towards it as best I could. I noticed a small shape huddled in a corner.

“Hey. I’m Reagan. Who are you?” I asked, realizing it was a boy about my age. He had chocolate brown hair that brushed his hazelly-green eyes. He wore glasses with a twisted frame and cracks spreading out over one of the lenses. His jeans and tee-shirt hung limply on his scrawny form. When he stood, I saw that he was shorter than me.

“I’m Jonathan, but you can call me Jon,” he said quietly. He was clutching a book in his right hand. The pages were worn and the cover was wrinkled, but it looked he really liked it.

“Does anyone live in the other cell?” I asked, pointing to the tunnel that connected our cell with another. He nodded and pointed as two figures emerged from the tunnel. They were both tall, but the girl was tall and skinny, and the boy was more compact. He had sandy blonde hair and blue eyes, while the girl had platinum blonde hair and green eyes.

“I’m Seth,” the boy said. “And she’s Veronica,”

“What’s your name, girl?” Veronica asked, shoving me up against the wall.

“My name is none of your business,” I replied boldly, trying to push her away with my hands tied.

“Oho! She is an upstart little maggot!” Seth exclaimed. “You!” he yelled, gesturing at Jon. “What’s her name?”

“M-M-Megan,” Jon stuttered. I smiled in my head. He wasn’t going to tell them my real name.

“Is that so?” Veronica snarled. “Is your name Megan?”

“Yeah,” I said, hanging my head. “Can you untie my hands?” I asked, holding my wrists out.

“Not until you know the rules,” Seth said. “Rule number one: Veronica and I get half of your food at every meal time. Rule two: You have to give us your blanket. Rule three: If you make us angry, you sleep on the floor by the latrine hole. Rule four: You do whatever we want, when we want, or you get punished. Rule five: You don’t do anything until we say you can. Rule six: You aren’t allowed to talk to Jonathan at all. You got it?” I nodded my head.

“Jonathan, dear, untie her,” Veronica ordered. Jonathan stuttered a yes and scrabbled to untie the knots. He got them undone in a few seconds. I rubbed my wrists, and drove my right fist into Veronica’s exposed stomach. She doubled over in pain, her face twisted in agony. Seth snarled and grabbed my left hand, yanking it behind my back. He pulled it higher and higher, but I refused to scream. Veronica pounded my stomach and shoulders with blows. Silent tears streamed down my cheeks, but I refused to scream, or even sob. Finally they relented.

“Give me that rope, Jonny boy!” Seth ordered.

“I-I-It’s Jon,” he stuttered, handing Seth the rope. Seth jerked both of my arms behind my back and tied them tightly, yanking the rope and triple knotting it.

“Check her pockets, Jon,” Veronica commanded. Jonathan turned my pockets inside out, handing Veronica the pack of gum, pieces of lint, two dollars, and school picture that resided in my pockets. She carefully slipped the pack of gum and two dollars into her own pockets and threw the picture and lint into my face. Veronica promptly stalked out of the room into her own cell, leaving nothing behind but bad memories.

“Since talking to Johnny here won’t really cause any problems, seeing as you’re tied up, I don’t care if you do. I’m just being nice as it is your first day. Sleep well,” Seth called as he followed Veronica into his own cell leaving me with a half-dead, broken nerd.

***

“So,” I said scooting closer to Jonathan as best I could. “What did you do to deserve this?” Jonathan was quiet for a moment or too, but I waited.

“There was this old warehouse. Kind of a junker. I always went there when I wanted to be alone, or had to blow off some steam. I was up in the loft reading this,” he said, holding up his book. “When two men entered the warehouse. They were wearing black suits and talking really quietly. One of them kept looking up in my direction. It seemed like they were done talking, but then I heard one of them say that they were going to light the building on fire. I panicked. I was trying to sneak out, but they caught me and knocked me out. That’s basically my story,” I nodded my head, deep in concentration.

“Did you hear them say anything?” I asked.

“Yeah…Something about a girl who could…Uh…Something about turning the tide. They said that they needed to find her before Pro-Procella did. I think they were talking about a-a secret war,” Jonathan said. “It didn’t really make sense, so they were probably talking in code. What about you? How did they get you?” I looked up, startled at the question.

“Well, uh, I really don’t know. Maybe I heard something I wasn’t supposed to…I can’t remember…” I muttered. I really didn’t know why I was taken, but that seemed like the only explanation.

“Bit of a mystery, eh?” he said with a smile.

“Yeah. I’ve got another question: How did they-” I said, jerking a thumb at the little passageway. “Get here?” I finished.

“Seth came here maybe a month after me. He was nice, smart even. We started planning an escape. It was our one chance out of here, and it was very slim. But it was our only hope. We almost made it, but we were stopped. A few days after our failed escape, Veronica came. We tried for another escape, but were stopped almost immediately. I suspected Veronica was an informant, but she told Seth that I was the traitor. After all, it was my plan,” he quipped bitterly. “So Seth treats me this way partly because he thinks I deserve it, partly because he likes power, and partly because he wants to impress Veronica,” I could tell Seth was a sore point for him, so I dropped it. “You’d better get some sleep. I doubt Seth ad Veronica will let you get any later,”

“Okay,” I murmured, but he was already slumped against the wall, so I closed my eyes and let myself drift into oblivion.

In the dream, I was standing on a rugged hill, my reddish-brown hair whipping back in a strong wind. I seemed to be detached from my body, staring down at it from the sky. My ice blue eyes glowed a deep shade of purple and I thrust my hands outward. I screamed, “Orbis Incendia!” really loud and two fireballs exploded from my palms, scorching the plain beneath me. The scene melted into shadows and I was drawn back to reality by the drip-drip-drip of water droplets on cold stone.

***

I was sitting in the dim light, my eyes half open, thinking about my weird dream when a screeching that was the equivalent of nails on a chalkboard resonated through the cell. Jonathan opened one eye. “Food,” he said quietly. Secretly, I was really hungry, but judging by the rest of the prison so far, I didn’t think the food would be too great. Plus, with my hands tied behind my back, it would be quite hard to actually eat the stuff. The screeching got closer and closer until a huge cart stopped in front of our cell. The man pushing it was dwarfed by the immense cart. His spine was bent and twisted and he hobbled eerily. He had a few strands of grey hair poking out over his liver-spotted skull. He smiled almost threateningly, exposing very few rotted teeth.

“Dinnertime, dearies!” he said. “Oh, look! Aleksie was right! There is a new girlie! I’m Brunner. Shake my hand, missy!” he ordered, holding out his wrinkled hand. The nails were yellow and warped and his skin was covered with blisters. For once, I was glad my hands were tied behind my back.

“Can’t, sir. My hands,” I said gesturing towards them with my head. He smiled again and nodded.

“Aleksie doesn’t like you,” he said with a small chuckle.

“Who’s Aleksie?” I asked, a bit confused.

“Oh, you know him as Alek,” Brunner said. He handed Jonathan two bowls of something and two glasses of water. “Half of that is for her, Johnny,” Jonathan muttered something darkly and set the stuff down.

Jonathan didn’t eat anything, so I waited. We heard Brunner’s cart squealing down the hallway, farther and farther away from us. Veronica and Seth came out of the tunnel.

TO BE CONTINUED