Party, Party

Chapter 36: My Flower

This is bullshit.

Tied to an uncomfortable wooden chair with nails sticking out at every corner, I struggle in my restraints—the furniture questing against the concrete floor.

I'm shot with another spray of frosty cold water, and I whip my head away to avoid the force. Water in my eyes, in my nose and drenching my clothes, I look up at the perpetrator with glaring eyes.

"Stop it, I'll fuckin' rip your head off!!"

"Cool it, Deam." Another spray. "The boss told me to condition you till you calm the fuck down. Your bloodthirsty, and have stayed that way for an abnormally long time."

I glare at Spades from under my fringe, furrowing my brow. I rattle the chains that tie me down again, the cool metal rubbing against my pale skin painfully. Yelping in pain, I shift the whole chair forward in my struggle.

"Goddamn it, calm down woman!"

"Not until every single person who tranquillised me in dead in a ditch."

After threatening Angelique, Atlas ordered someone to tranquillise me.

Tranquillise me.

Like an animal.

After the first shot, I felt slightly sluggish but it didn't stop me for chasing the shooter down and putting a knife through his back.

Then another shot came.

That time I used a shard of a broken porcelain vase and rammed it right through his knee—collapsed from the amount of sleep serum was in me.

Another shot.

And then I was gone. Everything went fuzzy, and then black—and I'd never felt more raw and exposed, twitching on a marble floor half passed out while other Nox members laughed at my collapsed body. Like a fucking bear that's been shot, squirming on a forest floor while hunter's cackle at their prize.

I wanted to hope up with my sword and slice through every single one of them. Not even that, I'd prefer to do it slow. Slice through them one by one and let them crawl away in pain as they did to me.

Some of my rational brain still functioning, I decide acting rabid wouldn't impress the knight that stands in front of me.

"Spades... I'm really sorry I left." I frown, slouching back in the chair—seemingly calming down. "I thought about it every night after I left—" Not entirely a lie. "—I wish we could go back to how we were before."

He looks contemplative for a while, before stamping both feet onto the ground.

"Cut the bullshit, Deam. You wouldn't apologise if someone held you at gun point. It's surprising you could even get the word out of your mouth."

"Screw you." I grimace.

When did Spades become such a condescending asshole?

The room was dark and murky, everything I hated and Atlas knew it. I enjoyed being in open spaces—I loved being free. Which was why a few days previous I was given a wide windowed room with vast view of the city. I didn't have to run, because being in that room felt like I was already flying. I was starting to miss the luxuries I was provided—comfy linens and silk window covers intricately patterned with leaves of gold.

Perhaps this was God telling me I'm getting what I deserved.

What's I've always deserved.

There was something wrong with me. Something that's been festering for quite and long time without being fixed. I didn't need it fixed—I kept denying I was broken.