Page 124 of Decimation

The guards drag him away, his protests fading into the distance. I turn back to Leandra. She’s shaking, her eyes wide with fear and confusion.

I step closer, reaching out to take the dagger from her hand. She doesn’t resist, her fingers loosening as I gently pry it from her grip. I pass it to one of the guards, then pull her into my arms.

She stiffens at first, her body tense but then she collapses against me, her tears soaking into my shirt.

“It’s okay,” I murmur, my voice soft. “You’re safe now.”

She shakes her head, her voice barely audible. “I don’t feel safe.”

I hold her tighter, my mind racing. This is a problem, a complication I hadn’t anticipated, but I’ll deal with it. I’ll silence anyone who threatens her, who threatens us.

If necessary, I’ll butcher the entire world to make her fall in love with me, to make her trust me.

Because she’s mine, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep her.

Ipace the length of my room, my bare feet padding against the cold floor. My hands clench and unclench at my sides, my nails digging into my palms. It feels like the walls are closing in, like the air is too heavy, suffocating. I can’t shake the feeling that I’m trapped, not just in this room but in this body, this face, this life that isn’t mine.

I stop in front of the mirror, my breath catching in my throat. The reflection staring back at me is unfamiliar.

It’s not Ines, it’s not me.

It’s something in between, a grotesque fusion of two identities forced together by violence and cruelty. My fingers tremble as I touch my face, tracing the contours of my cheekbones, the curve of my lips. Who the fuck am I?

The question echoes in my mind, unanswered.

I’ve been here for days, weeks maybe, I’ve lost track of time. Lazarus has been… kind. Too damned kind. He’s given me space, allowed me to rest, to recover, but I don’t trust it. I don’t trust him. He’s dangerous, a man who murdered his own brother… what’s to stop him from turning on me if I don’t give him what he wants?

I should have tried to escape by now.

The thought gnaws at me, a constant itch beneath my skin. Why haven’t I? Fear? Weakness? Or something else, something I don’t want to admit?

Christ, I need to get out of this room. I need to feel the sun on my skin, the wind in my hair. I need to remember what it feels like to be alive.

I stride to the door, my heart pounding in my chest. This is a good test. If Lazarus truly means to keep me as his brother did, the guards will stop me. If he intends to be kind, if that’s even possible, they’ll let me pass.

I grip the handle, my fingers trembling, and pull the door open.

No one jumps in front of me. No one reacts.

I step into the hallway, my breath shallow, my fists clenched. A guard stands at the far end of the corridor, his posture relaxed. He doesn’t move as I approach, doesn’t react to my presence at all.

When I reach him, he inclines his head in a gesture of respect, the kind he’d give to Lazarus.

A wave of relief washes over me, followed immediately by disgust. Am I really as pathetic as a bird rejoicing because its cage is slightly larger? Because I’m not free, am I?

But I’m outside the room, and that’s something.

I walk on, my steps quick and purposeful. I don’t know where I’m going, but I need to find a door, a window, anything that leads outside. The corridors twist and turn; this place is built like a labyrinth designed to confuse and disorient.

And then I see him.

Isaac.

What is he doing here? How…he’s older now, his hair is streaked with more grey, but I’d recognize him anywhere. His face is etched into my memory, creating a permanent scar on my soul.

My breath catches in my throat, and my body freezes in place. It feels like the entire world comes to a stop, that time itself stills.

His colours swirl around him, dark, murky greens and sickly yellows, the colours of deceit and cruelty. Colours I know so damn well.