My thoughts were headed down a dark path and I knew if I let this warehouse and the people inside get to me I would lose my mind. I had to stay sane. The Underground would come for me. They would have healed Kian and he wouldn’t stop until I was safe in his arms. Rebecca and Madison wouldn’t stand for me being captured. They were coming.
Splash. I didn’t know how many minutes, hours, days were passing between each bucket of cold water, food, and beatings, but the cold seemed to settle into my bones until all I knew was the frigid air. My eyes refused to open and I drifted in and out of consciousness, only waking when either the accomplice or his stocky friend came in to douse me with water.
A hard slap across the face woke me from the darkness. The pain was stinging against my icy skin. I struggled to break open the frigid seal on the lids of my eyes as panic set in. There were others in the room; I could feel their eyes watching me. Assholes are probably enjoying watching me squirm. A scream wrenched from my tender throat as tepid water splashed against my face, burning my cold skin and instantly melting the ice that sealed my eyes shut. Dean stood in front of me, Mae to his side. Her face was schooled into a neutral expression, but her eyes were filled with sorrow.
Sadie. I am sorry this is happening, but you have to hold on. Her musical, child-like voice danced inside my mind.
“Will she break?” His booming voice hurt my sensitive ears.
Mae’s voice sounded like wind chimes next to his explosive tone. “Soon. She is strong-willed.”
I jerked my chin up in defiance at Mae’s statement, but neither of them acknowledged my small rebellion. Dean rubbed his chin as he perused my stretched body. His gaze felt like slime pouring over my exposed figure and I fought to not physically react to his scrutiny, but instead kept my hardened gaze locked on his face.
“Give her water and food. Then prepare the white room.”
“Father. I don’t think…” Mae started.
Dean raised his hand as if he were going to backhand the lithe girl. She straightened her back in preparation for the blow, but it never came. Instead he growled, “you are not here to think.”
She nodded and turned to stare at the wall, her lips pinched together in a tight line.
The white room will be the greatest test of your strength. I do not envy you. Stay strong.
Tears prickled at my eyes as the weight of Mae’s projected thoughts pulled at me. If this white room was something she feared when she was raised in this hell, how much more should I be afraid of it? A white room didn’t sound all that frightful, but I knew better than to disregard my captors.
Without warning the chain holding me up loosened and I crumpled to the floor in a heap of skin and bones. My joints were painfully stiff, as I stifled a scream as they bent. Pins and needles pricked at every inch of my skin as warmth fought to push out the lingering cold from my body. I couldn’t stop the tears as they flowed uninhibited down my frosted cheeks.
A large bottle of water and bowl of oatmeal appeared in front of me. I reached for the bottle and a startled gasp escaped as I took in the condition of my hands. My fingers were a mottled blue and deep purple down to my second knuckle. A quick glance down to my feet showed the same result. I clenched my fist and winced at the pain from my joints, but noticed the very tips of my fingers, which were beginning to turn black, were still numb. My stomach growled, reminding me that I was starved. I painfully drank and inhaled the bland mush.
“Spray her down. She smells of shit and piss,” Dean snarled before he and Mae left the room without a second glance.
My face warmed from embarrassment for a second before I stilled myself. I wouldn’t allow them to demean me for something I had no control over. The accomplice and his friend dragged me down a rusty, dilapidated hallway. I tried to use my legs and feet, but they wouldn’t work and a part of me wondered if I would ever walk again if I made it out of here alive. We walked through a set of doors and into a large room with multiple showers. It must have been a locker room or prison shower in its former life. They dropped me on the floor in the middle of the tile without ceremony, turning on the closest shower head, and throwing a bar of soap at me.
“You have 10 minutes.” The accomplice didn’t leave the room, but walked to the edge of the tile and watched as I struggled to crawl toward the running water.
There was no steam coming off the water to indicate that it would be any hotter than lukewarm, but as soon as it came in contact with my skin, it burned as if the water were boiling. Pain laced my skin from the beat of the water and I wanted to curl into a ball, but instead, I forced my arms to move and wash the worst of the grime off my body. As the water ran down my body, blisters formed in its wake.
Maybe the water is really burning me. I moved to the rest of my body and noticed my ribs were poking out of my skin even as I bent over to wash the sweat and grease out of my hair. I had just finished rinsing my hair when the water was turned off and a towel landed floor next to my feet.
“Stand up and dry off.”
It took me three tries, but with great effort, I was able to stand on shaky legs. The towel scratched my sensitive skin and a few blisters popped as I rubbed the moisture off my body. When finished, I stood straight, my legs feeling a little more secure than before. The accomplice walked forward and handed me a set of stark white pants and t-shirt.
“Put these on.” He didn’t have to ask me twice. It was the first time since the moment I had awakened on that damned chair that I had a full set of clothes. The itchy fabric felt like fire against my flesh.
Both men walked forward, leading me back down the ramshackle hallways. My blistered feet couldn’t keep up with their brisk pace and I struggled to keep up, tripping over my own feet. They never slowed down. The fleeting thought of escape crossed my mind, but the state of my body and lack of knowledge of where I was, plus the fear of what they would do to me if caught, kept me hobbling behind them like a loyal old dog.
We stopped in front of a wide, rusty metal door with faint chips of green paint in random patterns streaked across the surface. There was a sliding door at the bottom, big enough to allow a plate of food. Above the lever which doubled as a door handle and a locking mechanism were bold black letters. WHITE ROOM 1.
The accomplice let go of my arm, “You don’t want this, Killer. If I were you, I’d drain the Lane woman and stop your suffering.”
“You are not me and I will never drain Laura Lane.”
He released a long sigh as if he was frustrated and maybe a little concerned with my choice, but I didn’t see the issue. I would be in a room, dressed and without these men leering at my mostly naked body. I would take that over the box or the cold cell any day.
“You will regret this,” he whispered before opening the door. Unlike the other doors, this one opened without a sound. Even the accomplice’s feet were uncharacteristically muffled as he walked me closer to the room. I looked down; he was wearing thick white booties covering his boots. When did that happen?
Uncertainty settled in my stomach as I lifted my eyes from the floor and looked through the open door. My eyes widened as I took in the white room. True to its name, every surface in the room was a blinding white. There were no windows and the walls looked like they had padding covering every inch of the walls, floor, and even the ceiling. There were three recessed lights that cast a blinding white light, giving the room a sterile feel.
From behind I was forcibly shoved into the room, almost landing on my knees as I stumbled into my new prison. I turned around as the accomplice shut the unnervingly silent door, his teeth bared in an angry snarl.
Alone, I surveyed the room. It was perfectly square with no defining features and nothing seemed menacing like my previous tortures, but I couldn’t relax. My nerves prickled as the hairs on the back of my neck raised. I realized what was bugging me – the complete and utter silence. There were no groans from the old building settling, no whirring from the air vents, and even when I took a step, that sound was
muffled as well.
Now I see why everyone was terrified of this room.
I moved to sit in the corner, my knees protesting each inch before I rested on the ground.
“Hello.” My voice sounded as if someone held a rag over it, muffled by the white room. There would be no help if I spoke. It did nothing to improve the oppressive blankness that was this room.
Without a second thought, I lay down on the padded floor and closed my eyes. Sleep came without delay, but it wasn’t restful or long before I awoke with a start. My eyes darted around the room searching for what had roused me from my fitful slumber. A white tray sat just inside the door. I crawled toward it. My heart sank when I saw the white slop and cup of what I hoped was milk.
I ate in utter silence and then crawled back to my corner. My mind warred with itself. There was nothing to focus on. Nothing for my brain to do besides keep my body alive.
There was nothing.
My Talent surged beneath my skin, long ago released from its carefully constructed cage. There was no risk that I would harm someone when I was surrounded by nothing. It buzzed underneath my skin, restless.
Everything about me was restless. My mind couldn’t focus on anything substantial. For a while I had focused my energy on memories of Kian and my friends, but those images became fleeting until finally I couldn’t hold a single rational thought.
Another meal arrived. I rocked back and forth, my eyes darting from one corner of the room to the other searching for something. I didn’t know what, but I wanted to find it.
You’re going insane, Sadie. Keep it together. A small voice broke through my frantic thoughts. The statement resonated with me and I fought with my fragile mind for something to keep my sanity.
I pushed at my Talent just for something to do, forcing it outward and then pulling it tight inside until it felt like a tiny ball just under my breastbone. Then I repeated it with my secondary. I held the pulse as long as I could before pushing it out as far as I could. Darkness filled my second sight until a bright silver light showed at the edge before the pulse compacted itself back into my mind.
My breath caught. This place was large, and from what I could tell Mae and Kian’s mom were the only Caelians here. The corner of my eye caught movement and like a caged animal, I tensed. The small door at the bottom of the door opened without a sound. Two pair of white feet slid another white tray of white food inside.
Each breath was sharp as I fought the overwhelming urge to give in to the insanity perched on the edge of my subconscious. Instead, I crawled over to the food and ate.
The never-ending white pressed against my psyche, agitating my already fragile sanity. An idea exploded in the empty recesses of my mind. My eyes frantically searched the room. Satisfied no one was watching, I curled into a ball in the corner, my forehead resting in the soft crease. I took two deep breaths before placing my thumb inside my mouth and biting down with all the might I could gather.
Blood pooled on the cut left by my incisors. My watery eyes focused on the deep red bubble and an overwhelming calm spread throughout my body. I don’t know how long I stared at the shiny beads on my thumb, savoring their beauty before I smeared it on the floor.
The crimson smudge anchored me. Memories I had thought lost came flooding back. I remembered my friends as I stared. Memories of Kian’s warm touch and the overpowering wash of his love ran over me. For the first time since the day I had woken strapped to the chair, I was able to sleep through the night.
Chapter 28
Caelian Summit Address
“An anonymous tip was called in last night around 11pm with promising information regarding the whereabouts of my fellow council woman and close friend, Laura Lane. The tip implied that she, along with another missing Caelian woman, are both being held against their will by none other than Dean Kerrington of the Human Purist Coalition. The local norm authorities have been notified of this tip and have ruled out any direct involvement between Mr. Kerrington, the HPC, and the missing women, but I am here to tell you that we have evidence to the contrary.
We, as Caelians united, cannot just roll over and allow the norms with their corrupt government and practices to sweep instances of hate against Caelians under the rug. Caelians suffer every day under laws that discriminate against our very nature. These women are suffering because they are Caelian. No other reason.
That is why, with a majority vote from the Caelian council, I propose we send in an extraction team immediately and bring these women back from whatever hell Mr. Kerrington and his hate-mongering norms have been putting them through.”
Miles Koenig’s address at the emergency Caelian Summit. Atlanta, Georgia
Chapter 29
The next morning, I felt more rested than in any other moment during this hell, but still exhausted. All that was within me longed for the moment I could leave this place. If I ever left at all. My emotions skipped from bright, all-encompassing hope, to complete and utter despair. Yet, everything didn’t seem quite as lost as long as I had my tiny blot of red in the sea of unforgiving white and the ability to practice flexing my Talent.
Dean visited me soon after I awoke, donning a white hazmat suit. His eyes gleamed with pride as I shrank into the corner. I could see it in his face; he thought I was cowering in fear. I fought to contain a conniving smile. He would never know that I cowered in the corner not out of fear, but to hide my little crimson secret. My carmine safe haven in this white hell.
It didn’t take much pushing from Dean for him to realize that I wasn’t broken like he thought. He demanded compliance and with each denial from my end he kicked his white-covered boot into my ribs until I heard a loud crack. He eventually gave up as I lay in the corner, curled into the fetal position to protect my aching torso. As he stormed away, I heard him scream after Mae and judging by the beating I had just gotten, he was livid enough that I feared for her safety.
Dean must not have comprehended how Talents worked if he allowed Mae to roam around the complex uninhibited or if he thought a sensory deprivation room would break a Caelian that easily. We were made of stronger stuff. It was nature since our minds and bodies had to coexist with the power within us.
He thought I would break without stimulation, but then again he probably didn’t know about my secondary or the fact that Mae had been helping me. Whenever I was on the brink of losing myself, her voice would filter through the madness. Once my mind became clear again, I would release the pulse of my secondary and see her silvery glow at different points, but never close to my location. She was smart enough to never give herself away.
After my whitewashed daily food tray was delivered, I stared at the single spot of sanity in this snow white world and practiced pushing my secondary again, but unlike every other pulse, the vibrations of this one felt different. I held on to it for a moment, becoming acquainted with the feel of this new pulse. It felt just slightly off from the previous pulses. Without a second thought, I released it and slumped from exhaustion. This one pulled more from me and I felt a twinge of Talent sickness.
When the pulse returned, I could see multiple muted energy signals. They were not like anything I had seen before. Caelian Talent signatures that I saw in my mind usually matched the nature of the Talent user, but these were dimmed lights, like a low wattage lightbulb, although a few were brighter and others had different swirls of color within them. I gathered another pulse and released it. Most of the faint glows moved, all except a few at the outermost limit of the pulse beam and the two closest to my location.
I continued to stare at the almost black smear of dried blood on the floor. A thought was nagging at the back of my mind, but I couldn’t put two and two together. These new lights. They were not Caelian in origin. That much was obvious.
They were norms.
The thought slammed into me with a sudden truth that shook me to my core. Mrs. LaMotte theorized that I could see the energy signature of norms with the right amount of training, but it was something
I never really believed. Why would I ever need to see where norms were located? Before the HPC kidnapped me, my biggest enemy was other Caelians.
Would my Talent now work on a norm?
I was overwhelmed. My body shook from this new revelation and with caution to my old and newest injuries, I lowered myself to the ground, sitting on my knees. A soft murmur bounced around the padded walls, but I knew from previous experience it was my own voice babbling incoherent words. My Talent flared around me and I allowed it to flow uninhibited. It buzzed throughout my tired body, filling the silence of my mind with the noise I found most comforting.
My eyes closed as my muscles relaxed. So my secondary expanded to where I could locate norms. That would be awesome if I was outside this white prison, but it would do me no good unless my main Talent evolved so that I could drain a norm of their life-force.
The buzzing inside my brain flared again and I allowed my Talent to release another pulse. In the days I’d been inside the white room, my Talent had controlled my body more than my resolve controlled it. I allowed it because the Talent within me was stronger than my own human cognizance.
When the pulse returned, my body perked at the new vibrant color signatures gathered in groups throughout the facility, but fatigue pressed against my body from over use of my newly expanded Talent and I struggled to stay awake. My eyes drooped and I couldn’t gather enough energy to care about the newest development.
A crash sounded on the other side of the room. Then deafening sound reverberated throughout the muffled white room. My fight or flight response activated, releasing a torrent of endorphins. I jumped to a crouched position and allowed the vibrations of my Talent to fill my body, ready for action. Another burst of sound permeated the room as the door crashed open. A soft feminine voice filtered through the noise inside my brain.
“Sadie.” I recognized the voice, but I couldn’t place it.
The Caelian Cycle Boxed Set Page 31