The Elite (Editting)

Chapter 9: Traitor

          "Scabs, she has done the worst thing imaginable," Gabriel began speaking, formality in his voice. "She snuck into my chambers, here, and forced herself upon me."

          I was angry. I could feel the fire burning inside me as I looked into Gabriel's distant brown eyes. "That’s a lie!" I yelled as loud as I could at Gabriel. He walked over to me and backhanded me across the face.

          "That will teach you to hold your tongue in my presence, slave," his expression was disconnected from his words. His mouth said that I was nothing but a slave to him but his eyes spoke otherwise. His eyes told me that he was sorry and he didn't mean any of it.

          "Gabriel, please," I pled one last time before he looked me in the eye and spoke.

          "Take her away," he said and with a simple motion of his hand, I was being dragged down the hallway by my hair. Scabs took care to hit my body on every corner we passed and occasionally, he'd bang my head against the cold, sharp limestone walls. Eventually I gave up screaming and began to realize that Gabriel was just a lie. He'd lied to me about everything and he wasn't going to save me from the horrible fate I would endure.

          "Why'd you stop screaming, you miserable wench?" Scabs addressed me as if I was lower than the piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe. "I like it when you scream." Scabs stopped dragging me and stopped outside a tall wooden door. My head fell to the ground, throbbing in pain and bleeding from the collisions with the walls. He opened the door to a bedroom, mine I silently prayed. As I raised my head to survey the room, Scabs grabbed my hair again and pulled me into the room. He shut the door.

          "Strip," Scabs demanded. His voice said there was no option.

          "No, I refuse," I knew I should have held my tongue but I couldn't, not after the betrayal I felt.

          "You refuse? You didn't seem to waste any time with the Prince. I saw how you were all over him."

          My feelings went from anger to shock to confusion to an emotion I couldn't describe. Gabriel, the prince, he never told me. There were so many things running through my mind at one time I feared my head would explode.

          "I wasn't all over him, if anything, he was all over me," again I let my tongue slip and spoke.

          "How dare you speak ill about your master! For your insolence, you must be punished!" Scabs said unsheathing his knife and pressing it to my throat.

          "You wouldn't dare." It was hard to sound threatening when there was a knife pressed to your throat but I somehow managed.

          "Really and why is that?" Scabs moved the knife lower to rest against my breastbone. "Give me a good reason why I shouldn't run you through with this knife."

          "You wouldn't want Gabriel to be upset with you." The knife pushed harder, I could feel my skin breaking and blood running down my chest.

          "You better come up with a better reason or start striping."

          "A better reason? The glow." I was scrambling for a good reason to keep Scabs from killing me when I remembered what Gabriel had said to Sylvie and at the temple.

          "The glow?" Scabs asked. The knife's pressure lessened, I knew I was on the right track.

          "Yes the glow, you idiot. When Gabriel and I touch, there's no need for lights, we are the light," I pulled words from the air and put them together.

          "The glow!" Scabs dropped the knife to the floor and went quickly to the restroom. As I lay on the carpet covered floor with blood slowly flowing from wounds on various parts of my body, I pondered this "glow". Everyone seems to be in awe, in reverence of it. I needed to find out what was so big about it. Before I could even collect my thoughts, Scabs returned from the restroom with a crisp white towel and a basin of water.

          "Clean up," he ordered me. My face shifted to a defensive expression. "I meant your blood, stupid girl; I can't have red spots on my carpet." After a few seconds of waiting for me to act, Scabs picked up the towel and dipped it in the water. He wiped my neck where he had cut me with his knife, using force to remove the dried up, caked on blood causing me to writhe in pain. "Shut your trap or I'll do worse than cut you," Scabs barked in my ear, pressing the towel to my bloodied body.