Dari Cross (On Hold)

Part Nine

I woke; startled by the fact I was face down in a pillow. A cold chill inched its way up my spine. I realize I’m not wearing a shirt. Weird. What’s going on? I’m on a bed, unfamiliar to me with only a bra, and some jeans on. Well partly, my bra’s been undone at the back to where my whole back’s exposed to the freezing air. I shiver, before trying to sit up. Bad idea. My back aches with pain, as nausea washes over me. I lay back down before dots begin to form in my vision. I tilt my head, when someone enters the room. It’s not Logan, or Miles or anyone that I know. Something is definitely wrong here.

He slowly comes over to me, as I lay there paralyzed with fear and confusion. His hazel eyes pierce into my soul as he washes them over my body. “Who are you?” I manage to croak as a wave of coughs hack through me.

He blinks slowly, seeming to want to answer, but something holds him back. I can see the grief in his strained face. Something is terribly wrong here. Another figure appears in the corner of my vision. I strain to see, but the person doesn’t move an inch from the door way. Whoever this was had ultimate control over the guy in front of me. I could feel the silent commands of the unknown person, directing him to move on with whatever he was going to do. He grabbed my wrists and restrained them as well as my ankles. I knew that he wasn’t going to hurt me, but will the others force him too? Where am I?

He places a soothing hand on my back as relief trickles through my skin. It felt like all of the scratches were slowly sealing and disappearing away. Yet suddenly it all stopped and the sickness returned in greater force. I turn to him. Why had he stopped? And how did he even do that anyway? He stared at me trying to share something, but nothing came from him. Nothing except his sorrow filled eyes. The person in the door way suddenly motioned for him. The boy stood hesitantly and walked out of my line of vision. A sharp pain suddenly shot up my back, as my vision faded into darkness.

The next time I woke it was dark. The room slowly came to focus as my eyes adjusted to the faint light. Maybe that was all just a dream, but I had a feeling it wasn’t. I was in the same room, the same bed and in the same restraints. That was defiantly not a dream. It was silent for many moments, before blaring lights flashed on. I shut my eyes, until they were strong enough to with stand the luminosity. I could feel the presence of someone in the room, as my “danger sense” tingled through my spine. Nice timing.

It wasn’t the healer guy. I could tell by the way they stood there, not coming into my line of sight. “Number Seven,” Someone acknowledged me with a thick voice.

I said nothing at first, but curiosity kept nagging at me until I finally asked, “Where am I?”

“Somewhere far away from the others,”

The way he said others caused a chill creep up my spine, even though there was one already there. The owner of the voice came into view, sweeping his eyes over me. I seem to shrink from his gaze. He was nothing like the boy before. There was something menacing about him, something that I could never trust. He slid his fingertips up my side, as chills hacked through me. I stare hard at him, trying to pierce into his soul with mine, too see exactly what he was thinking. “Why?” I ask terrified.

“Why what my dear?” he says eerily.

“Why are you doing this to me?”

His dark eyes look away from my gaze and down my body almost longingly. “Those scratches on your back are infected, and because of your history, he had to tie you up,” He says touching my face.

“My History?” I ask confused.

“Yes, your mother had a power as well, and it could possibly be passed down to you. We could not risk any endangerment to you or to us,”