Shayla stumbled backwards, trying to get away from the man claiming to be her father. His face broke out in a nasty grin and he stepped forward to grab her arm, effectively pulling her to a stop.
"Yes dear. Father." His tone was so venomous that the very environment they were in changed. Sharp looking cliffs shot up in the background and trees you'd expect to find in front of that old haunted house you cross the street to avoid grew all around them. There wasn't however any live grass or sweet chirping birds. The grass on the ground was brittle and brown. The only sounds coming from the forest were what seemed to be screams from some sort of wildcat. It was, in one word, terrifying.
She alternated staring in shock at him and her surroundings. Suddenly a pressure began to build at the base of her skull. It grew to such a level that her knees began to buckle from the pain. Just as she was sure her head was going to explode from the pressure, visions began to surface behind her now closed eyelids. They were foreign images, fleeting pictures of her mother, the townspeople, Soren, even herself. The ones of Shayla were from a strange point of view, as though she was having an out of body experience.
She realized with a gasp that he had been watching her for years. How did something like that go unnoticed? The pictures stilled on one of Soren and her- father- though she loated using the term. How could someone so evil be her own father? She turned her focused on the scene playing out in her head.
Soren was strapped to a chair and it seemed that he was being tortured, though no one was touching him. Soon she came to the realization that this was what had happened over the week he was gone. She couldn't hear what anyone was saying but she figured out that he had refused to report on her to Lawrence any longer. But even bad boys like Soren have a breaking point apparently, because eventually he nodded his head and began to speak. She assumed he was telling them everything they wanted to know.
When Shayla couldn't watch any longer she began to try and push the other presence out of her thoughts and mind. The force, her father, pushed back and a battle ensued. In one last act of desperation, to stop the 'movie' playing she pushed with everything she had. And found herself in a cell, looking down on a battered version of her mother.
This Darcie was much thinner than the one she remembered, but she was sure it was her. Shayla took in the sight of the filthy, tattered dress her mother was dressed in and the room in which she was kept. It looked like the sort of place you'd find in the dungeon of a medieval castle. The floors were covered in grime and there was only a small mattress and bucket in the way of comforts.
Against her will, she shot her foot out and kicked her mother's sleeping form. It was then that she realized that it wasn't her looking down on her mother. It was Lawerence. She gasped mentally when her mother sat up. Her belly was swollen and she was obviously very pregnant.
Her mother scrambled into the far corner as Shayla's father began to speak. "Oh Cici, don't be like that. You need to preserve your strength. You'll be giving birth in a few days. Can't have you stressing my little power bud." Though his words were kind, his tone was one of disgust.
Though her mother was obviously terrified, a gleam of stubbornness lingered in her eyes. "You'll never have this child. Or it's power." She declared. Her voice was clear and strong, it was strange considering her appearance.
"Oh but I will. I'll train this child to it's full potential, and then I'll have it's power."
Darcie's eyes widened and her mouth formed an 'O' in horror. "The only way to take the power of another is.."
"Death." Lawrence stated simply, as if he was talking about the weather.