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Rain
Ifell asleep. I haven’t a clue how long I stayed sitting against the wall before my eyes finally fluttered shut. Exhausted and overwhelmed, it came easily. I’m not sure how long I was out for or how long I have been up now. My mouth is dry, and a slight headache still lingers. I would do anything for some water right now.
The fire is still lit, and it dances against the stone. Watching it has helped pass the time.
I don’t feel him.
I’ve tried to force it. Search for his energy to meet mine. But there's nothing. He isn’t here. Why would he let them take me? Was it him? It couldn’t be. Nothing about the last twenty-four hours has made sense; it could be longer than that by now, I can’t be sure.
One thing I am sure about is that I fucking felt him just before my world went black.
No one has come to check on me since. It’s been eerily quiet. The water droplets and the fire are the only things I have heard. Being left alone to my own thoughts is torture; it wanders every time to my ending, to the what-ifs and maybes. There’s no point in giving myself false hope. I am typically an optimistic person, but in this situation, it’s hard to be.
The near silence of the space is deafening. My mind is starting to play tricks on me. The fear of the unknown is amplifying it. With each drip of water that echoes through the cave, my mind goes tick tock, tick tock. The few times that the drips stopped, I scurried making sure my back was against the wall, with my eyes closed pretending to be asleep. My mind convinced me someone was coming. I’m not sure how long I stayed like that each time, but long enough to realize I was no longer thinking rationally.
My eyes have been watching for shadows against the rock wall outside of my cell. I have spent hours fixating on it. Whenever the flame flickers, my heart pounds thinking it’s been disturbed by a person. Then I wait like I did with the drops, holding my breath for someone to pop out, but they never come. If they are capable of taking me, they are capable of things I can’t even envision.
The sound of a male clearing his throat catches my attention. My eyes look in the direction that it’s coming from. I didn’t even hear anyone coming, how long have I been in my head? How long has he been watching me? This is a stranger, but not my stranger. I don’t feel him.
This person before me, on the other side of the bars, is in a dark black robe. From his feet to the hood on the top of his head, it covers his entire body, with long sleeves that hang over his hands.
A white mask with an intricate gold-painted design around both eyes and over the bridge of the mask's nose. It has an opening for his eyes, two for the nostrils, and a small hole for the mouth. My heart sinks, taking him in. My eyes watch as his hand moves to his pocket, getting what he reached in for, he moves it out toward the lock. Gripping the lock with his other hand, he places a dark key into it. As he twists, the lock pops open and he pulls it off the door without saying a word. It’s hard to tell if he is looking at me or at the cell door. It’s too dark to see his eyes, with the mask holes casting shadows over the small openings.
He begins to slide the door open; it’s loud against the hard stone ground, scraping it as it goes. I hate this sound, but I don’t flinch as I don’t want him to see how it affects me. As it reaches the end of the opening, he stops and moves to stand in the opening, dropping the lock at his feet with the key still inside. Is he testing me?
Neither of us do anything. I never take my eyes off him, waiting for him to make the next move. I assume it's a male, but it could very well be a female with a deep voice. Either way, I know I am fucked.
They step forward, and black shoes peek under the long black fabric. The loose gravel crunches beneath with each step taken. It only takes them a couple steps for them to be standing directly over me. Their head tilts down toward me slightly as my eyes move up. Then, they reach out their hand, their bare skin is exposed. I don’t move. My body trembles; it’s been through a lot and has done a great job trying to protect me, but I’m not sure it will cope with what is bound to come next. I’m still sitting still, not moving as they tilt their head toward their hand, coaxing me to take it. Swallowing the little saliva I have, I take a deep breath and raise my trembling hand to theirs as I begin to rise.
I haven’t stood up since I woke up here the first time. My legs are stiff and filthy, I am still only in my sleep shorts and tee. Their hands are rough and big, confirming this is definitely a male. As I fully stand, my head is maybe two feet from the top of this prison, this person’s head is inches away from touching it. He drops his hand from mine, turns around, and begins to walk toward the open cell door. He must expect I will follow.
And I do.
Tiny sharp pieces of broken rock embed themselves into the bottom of my feet as I walk; some cut against my flesh, but that is the least of my worries. Because this man is leading me to my death. I am certain. My body is trembling, my teeth chatter and I want to cry, but my eyes are so dry that nothing comes out.
Leading us down a long hallway, it is also lit by the same torches as my cell. My fingertips brush against the cold, dark stone that surrounds us. We are underground somewhere, but for the life of me I can’t figure out where. As I continue to take in my surroundings, I notice the area becomes more lit up, more torches line each side of us, along with a low humming noise which can be heard. My brows furrow, trying to concentrate. Is it just a hum, or are they saying something? Not paying attention, I don’t realize the man in front of me has stopped walking, and I walk into his back. Caught off guard, I stumble backwards and almost apologize out of habit, but I cover my mouth with my hands and stop myself. He is unphased by it, not even turning around. Looking around to see why we have stopped, I see we are standing within a stone archway. He steps further inside the space while still blocking my view. As he turns his body to the side, it exposes a larger room within the cave area, which is lined with over a dozen people, at least.
All of them are wearing the same long black cloaks, hoods over their heads, and white masks with the gold design.
My eyes move around in the room while my brain tries to figure out if I can place any of these people or this place. None of this is ringing a bell for me.
I wish I could feel him. Unease and terror ripples over me. Nervously, I start picking at my nails as all the white masks look at me in silence.
Then, a loud voice echoes in the space, shocking me as my head turns towards it.
“Rain, my girl. Welcome home.”
Chapter 5
Rain
The man standing at the front of the room, who welcomed me home, knows my fucking name. He stands taller than the rest, wearing the same white mask as everyone else. Others stand before him, there aren’t a lot of them, maybe twenty or so. But it makes the small space feel full. His black cloak also has gold trim decorating it. On the breast there is a design that I can’t quite make out from where I am standing. My fingers rake through my disheveled and long black hair, which is in desperate need of a brush.
Where the fuck am I?
Along with the torches lining the area, white candles decorate the perimeter of the area. The wax is melting onto the dirt floor. I swallow, opening my mouth to speak, to demand some sort of answer but no words escape me. I am completely frozen.
“Ah, my child. No need to say anything at all. You are here to observe this evening. We have a special night planned for our followers, for you,” The deep, captivatingly calm voice explains.
