by A C Wilds
“Where could she have gone? It’s not like there is more than one exit,” Greyson says. Fuck! That’s terrible news.
“I don’t know. Maybe she hid in one of the empty houses? We are going to have to search through them one by one. The King is going to be pissed!” the other voice says. It’s a male, but I can’t make out his face. I can only see his shoes, and they are huge — tactical boots and black cargo pants. They must have brought the big guns out if this guy is anything to go by. I’m starting to get a bit scared.
Night comes about 4 hours later, or so I am guessing. My ass is numb from sitting cramped in between these bushes, and my legs are on fire. Pins and needles are the worst. I slowly peek out and look around. I haven’t heard anything in ages, and I think that the coast should be clear. I get up into a standing position and stretch. My body is killing me, and a headache from this afternoon’s energy blast is still there. I need a shower and to change out of these clothes. I smell, and my hair is a tangled mess.
It’s super quiet. A little too quiet. There are no animal sounds or the rustling of leaves. This not-forest is creepy as fuck. I need to get out of here. Heading in the direction I came, I make it to the tree line in about 5 minutes. Again, there is no one on the street. The houses are silent, and there are only a couple of street lamps on. This place looks like something out of a Halloween horror movie. I start walking, keeping to the shadows to avoid detection.
Down the next block, I notice there are cars in the driveway. This must be the area that is inhabited. I have to figure a way out. None of the cars I see look like they would make a good getaway vehicle until I stumble across one that happens to be fully electric. Electric cars are quiet as fuck. They sound more like a moped than an actual vehicle. Now, to see if it is unlocked. I slink over to the back of the car and drop down. Crawling on the side, I reach up and try the handle. Unlocked! At least something is going right. I get in the car and close the door lightly. I have no idea how to hotwire a car, especially a car like this, but since this is a push button start, if the keys are located by the front of the house, the car should start.
Everybody keeps their keys by the door. It’s the first place you walk into and the last you step out of. It’s not very smart, but I know I was guilty of doing it. The only problem is I can’t turn it off, which is a non-issue because I am driving out of here and straight to the nearest police station. I press my foot on the brake and hold down the button praying it will start up. With a whirling moan, the car comes to life. It is the quietest thing I have ever heard. Thank goodness for technology! I back out of the driveway and turn down the street. I keep the lights and the radio off. After circling through the maze of streets, I notice a sign that says EXIT. Yes! Finally, I can get out of here. Making the right and picking up speed, the exit comes into view. Except there is one problem: a massive wall of people is blocking the exit.
There must be about 15 of those security people, and the rest are the...uh... villagers? I notice Greta standing next to a man that must be Harry. She has a blank look on her face like she is hypnotized. They all look like that, well, except the guards. I’m just staring at them, and they are doing the same. What the fuck am I going to do now? Ugh! This is just getting more messed up. It seems like I only have two choices: get out of the car and give up or put this fucking car into drive and speed up. Does it make me a horrible person for considering mowing these people down? Probably. But this is my life, and I am going to fight to my dying breath. I will not give up and give in.
As I take my foot off the brake and press it to the gas pedal, a man steps out from the crowd and stands in the middle with his arms outstretched. He looks…evil. The car goes from moving forward to suddenly dying. It shuts off and is not going anywhere. He makes quick work of walking over to me. His face is contorted in rage. His 6’2” height is intimidating, his jaw is set in a grimace, and his eyes are penetrating me through the windshield. I’m in a shitload of trouble. He walks over to the car and opens the door even though it’s locked. He stands there staring at me and says two words, “Get out,” then walks away. I start looking at his back, unsure what to do. I don’t have to contemplate too long because two massive guards come and collect me. They have to easily be over six and a half feet with shoulders the size of monsters. There is no way they can be human. I try to struggle out of their grips making it difficult for them to hold me, but they adjust their positions and hold me face down looking at the concrete like I’m a picnic table they are moving to a different spot in the yard.
“LET ME GO YOU BIG MUTHAFUCKERS!” I scream, and try to wiggle out, but their grips are iron tight. There is zero chance I am getting free. I start to feel my face flush again. My arms begin to vibrate. I’m hoping the blowback thing happens again, even if I land flat on my face, but it gets cut off before I can even get there.
“Enough! You can’t use your powers in front of me, so there is no point in trying,” a voice says above me. I can’t see anything except really nice black dress shoes. They look leather and very expensive.
“Well, if you tell the muscle twins to let me go, I wouldn’t have to,” I say in a snarky tone, because really, who the hell does this guy think he is?
“Will you behave?” he asks.
There is that fucking word again. Behave. What is this, kindergarten? How dare he talk to me like I’m some irrational child. I take a breath because the blood is starting to rush to my head. I need to be standing straight again.
“For your information, I am behaving like any normal person would in this situation. I don’t know if you are up to speed with this whole dilemma, but I have been kidnapped and brought to this place without my consent. And in case you didn’t know, because it seems most of the people here are delusional in some way, that is extremely illegal.”
“I am aware of the human laws, but in the Light, they do not pertain. Here, I am The Law, The Truth, and the only person you need to worry about pleasing,” he says in a baritone voice, that almost sounds like thunder could come out of it.
“Well then, turn me right side up so that I can look into the face of The Law.” I say the last word with a growl. I guess he gives the go ahead because I am suddenly vertical again. All the blood rushes out of my head, and I get dizzy. The giant twins hold me steady while I get my bearings. I gaze at his face for the first time. He is handsome in an older father figure kind of way. He has light blond hair with a bit of graying on the sides. His eyes are intense and the color of a storm just before it breaks. His suit is crisp and expensive. This guy is dripping with power. It’s rolling off of him in waves. Even if I didn’t believe it, I can feel it. He makes me want to run away screaming. He is one scary dude.
“Now that we have that settled, let’s get inside and we can discuss your future here at the Light,” he states, while walking toward a massive mansion, or more like a palace. It’s a giant marble building with massive columns supporting the front of the structure. There is a grand staircase leading up to the front door and on either side are more guards dressed in dark grey. He walks right up to the stairs with us trailing behind. His head is held high, and the arrogance surrounding him is palpable. The columns are an entryway to two colossal mahogany doors. One has an iron knocker in the shape of a lion with wings. The Law walks into the entrance and starts yelling for someone. I can’t make out the name, as his booming voice is so loud it hurts my ears. Two young maids and a young boy come running to his attention. He is too far away from me to hear, but the expression on the maids’ faces say he isn’t too pleased. Must be because of me. Oh well.
The boy takes a step back from him. He looks terrified that The Law is going to hurt him in some way. The Law stalks over to me and gets right up in my face. He bends down slightly because he is so much taller than my 5’6” frame. “You are staying here now. You have one more chance. After that, I stop playing nice and put you with the others who don’t follow the rules.”
With that, he turns on his heels and walks away.
One of the maids speaks up and says to the guards, “Take her to the Pearl room and secure it. One of you must be outside at all times, as per the King’s request.” Oh, so that is the king Greyson was talking about. He must be the leader of this merry band of misfits.
She then turns to the boy and says, “Get a tray from the kitchen and bring it to her room.” She then walks away with the other maid. Not too friendly, that one. I guess I wouldn’t be either if I had to live here.
The guards make for the first corridor located on the right of the entryway. I have to try to find a way out of this. As soon as they put me in that room I know, I’m stuck here. Maybe they will listen to reason.
“Listen, I know you work for that guy or whatever, but I am here against my will. I was kidnapped from my hometown, and now I don’t know where I am, or what is going on. Can you please just let me go? I promise not to say anything. We can make it look like you got knocked out or something. I have powers now, so I could try.”
The left guard chuckles, “You could not overpower us, little Fae. You are too untrained to do such a thing. We will not let you go, so just stop talking.” With that, he turns his head, and they continue to walk.
I can feel the anxiety creeping up my face. This is bad. Really bad. They are going to lock me in some room and never let me out. Noli must be so worried about me. I don’t even know if she knows I was taken. What if she thinks I just left her?
We get to a door at the far end of the hall. It is another huge wooden door with a pearl in the center. There is an ancient looking lock above the knob, and it appears to be extremely complicated. The guard takes out a key and places it into the lock. He then hovers his hand over it, and a grey light emits from his palm. The pins turn and the lock clicks. They waste no time walking me into the room and placing me in a large wingback white chair. The room is done in all white, varying from the purest white to the stunning blue-white that is on the inside of an oyster shell. All of the sconces and hardware have mother of pearl inlay. It is a beautiful cage.
“Sit and stay like a good girl. If you move, I am going to be forced to knock you out, and I don’t think that you want that,” left guard says. He seems like he means business, but I have to try anyway. Making a break for the door, I almost reach him before he slams it in my face. I am officially a prisoner.
Meeting the Family
Azra
I must have fallen asleep at some point. The morning sun is shining through the windows and right into my face. The bed is enormous and has a big fluffy comforter that I sank into once I sat down after my earlier failed escape. I haven’t cried yet, but I figure it’s only a matter of time. I am still in my dirty outfit, and I am starving. I notice a tray on one of the side tables. I scoot over the bed until I can reach the plate. There is a soup of some kind and nice crusty looking bread. A glass of water stands beside the bowl, and a peach is sliced into perfect portions. The soup is freezing, but I don’t care. I need something to fill my belly. The bread is also hard, so I dip it into the cold soup and eat the whole thing. I drain the water and look around this gilded cage for the first time. There is a bed, two side tables, a fireplace with two chairs in front of it, and a door on the far side of the wall. I assume that is a bathroom or closet of some sort.
A knock sounds on the door, and one of the maids from yesterday walks in. She is holding a pile of clothes in her hands. She smiles at me and says, “The King is requesting an audience with you at breakfast. I have brought you some appropriate attire to wear. You only have 20 minutes to shower and change.”
“Oh really? And what makes you think I want to eat breakfast with my captor?” I sneer.
“You don’t have a choice. You can go in clean and dressed, or you can go in like that and suffer the consequences. If I were you, I’d choose the former. You don’t want to find out what happens if you don’t listen,” she says with a straight face, as if she didn’t threaten me with bodily harm.
There is no choice here. It is becoming a survival situation. I need to think and act smart to get out of this. I approach the woman and take the clothes from her. “Where do I get changed?”
“Through that door is the bathroom. I will be back in 18 minutes to escort you down.”
I turn and walk through the door into a similarly styled room. It’s done in an all-white marble tile with a few shiny accents. There is a massive shower on one side with a bench built into the wall. To the left is a claw foot tub which looks so inviting. Too bad I don’t have time for a bath. I haven’t soaked in a tub since New York.
I peel off my dirty clothes and throw them into the trash. I climb into the shower and stand under the rainfall spray, letting all the dirt and grime wash off of me. The hot water feels amazing on my tired muscles and achy head. There is shampoo, conditioner, and body wash that smells like peppermint candies. It gives me tingles all over and surprisingly makes my skin feel soft and smooth. Stepping out of the shower, I towel off and pad over to the mirror to get a good look at myself.
I look tired and sick. I don’t know what Greyson gave me, but it’s taking a toll on me. I feel out of it – like I could sleep for three days.
I dry my hair off and put on the simple outfit I was given. It is a beautiful white blouse made out of super soft material. It feels like heaven on my achy skin. There is a bra and a pair of underwear too – thank God, because it would have been gross to put on my old ones. The pants are a soft grey color and feel comforting on my legs. They are sized correctly, almost as if they were made for me.
Just as I open the bathroom door, the maid comes in carrying a pair of dark grey leather ballet slippers. “Here you go,” she says, thrusting the shoes into my arms.
“Um, thanks. How do you guys know my sizes?” I question, ‘cause this is starting to get a bit weird. Who am I kidding, this has been weird from the beginning.
“The King knows everything,” she states, then turns around and heads for the door without looking back to see if I am following. I quickly put on the slippers and follow her. We walk down the same corridor as the night before. Before we get to the main entrance, there is another hallway on the right. The maid proceeds down it until we reach the end. There is a set of double doors as tall as the ceiling. The two guards from last night are standing at attention on either side, staring at nothing. They both have on matching grey suits that are the same color as my pants. They also have two massive swords strapped on their backs in a criss-cross pattern. There must be holes in the jacket to accommodate the holsters. As we approach them, the guards nod to the maid and then open up the doors. The guard on the right bellows out, “Azrael Sumner.”
Wait, what? How does this guy know my birth name?
Before I can question the guard, the King yells from the other side of the room. “Good Morning, Azrael. Join us. I want to introduce you to my family.”
I cautiously walk into the room. There is a vast table stationed in the middle of the room. There is a massive spread of food. Anything you could want for breakfast is there, including a box of Lucky Charms. They happen to be my favorite. It stands out like a sore thumb amongst all the fine china and crystal. Walking up the length of table takes a minute. It has seating for thirty with high backed chairs that have intricate scenes carved into them. The room is what you would expect a palace dining room to look like, except everything is done in whites, creams, and light gray. I am starting to notice a pattern here. There are paintings on the walls, but of abstract art — splotches of paint thrown onto a canvas in a range of gray shades. It is all very expensive looking.
When I reach my destination, the King is smiling at me as if nothing happened last night. There is a woman, who I assume is the Queen, and two young men sitting near her on white satin covered chairs against the wall. One of the guys is more youthful looking than the other. He has a head of hair the color of straw, the same as the woman next to him. He is seated with his arm around the back of the chair in a relaxed fuckboy position. I can tell this guy is pompo
us right away. He gives me a toothy grin and a little wave. I smile back because this is the friendliest anyone has been to me, even if this guy is playboy.
The second man, who I assume is his brother, is sitting with his back straight and his eyes glued onto me. He is gorgeous. At first glance, my breath is taken away. His energy is pulsing this intense white light, and I have to look elsewhere before I am caught staring. My face is flush, and I feel something stirring in my stomach.
The King takes a seat at the head of the table with the woman sitting to his right. Each of the guys situates themselves in the second chairs on the right and left the side of the table. The left chair next to the King is empty.
“My name is Azra, not Azrael. I changed it a long time ago,” I say to him, with no emotion in my voice. He doesn’t need to know why. He smiles at me and gestures to the chair next to him.