The queen of the damned

Chapter 1

My head pounded. 

My arms tingled, I was awkwardly on my side with my arms behind my back. I groaned, shifting, trying to get my bearings. I shook my head, confused. Stopping as it began to swim and my stomach started rolling. I began again, slowly this time by stretching my neck and realizing my arms weren't actually pinned but tied behind my back. I slowly opened my eyes, steadying my stomach, but my eyes only found darkness. Looking down toward my feet I noticed the soft glow of a candle on the floor of the damp concrete. Hearing a soft mumble of words that I couldn't quite hear. I squinted, trying to make out the cloaked figure making the noise. I struggled to call to it, finding my mouth bound and no sound making through. My pounding head asking more questions than I could answer. With a jolt, the memoires came flashing back. Walking to my car after work, stiffening as I heard footsteps approaching.

I started walking faster, my heart beating quickly in my ears. I rounded the corner of the restaurant seeing my little car in front of me. My steps quickened, fumbling with my keys, cursing the tremble in my fingers. Three steps and I was there, my hand reaching for the door handle. The hair on my neck stood up and my throat went dry as a gnarled hand snaked it's way in front of my face, clamping strongly over my mouth, My nose filled with the stench of something I couldn't quite place.. My body went rigid as it was yanked back into a strong frame. I then jerked my torso, my body acting on instinct with no purchase. The body pressed me against the side of my car, my keys digging into my skin. My eyes started to water from the smell, my pinned elbows squirming, trying to break free. A sharp pain to the back of my head hindered my struggle as black spots danced in my vision. A sinister voice reached my ears as an even more fowl breath reached my nose. "You're stronger than you look," it said. A second blow to the head doused my vision in black. 

I'm breathing heavy now, the dirty rag in my mouth making it harder. The smell from before came back, fainter, mixed with an earthy dampness. I closed my eyes, the pounding in my head getting worse. I try to focus on my breathing, trying to calm down. Using the technique Dr. Hepburn taught me, I try to remember. 

Okay, deep breath. 

Focus

Okay, what are five things I can see? I see a candle, a dirty floor, a bug crawling a few inches from me towards a puddle... a puddle of blood. A puddle of my own blood. I realized. 

I mentally scanned my body trying to find out where it was coming from. I noticed small stings coming from my arms and legs that my pounding head must have ignored. Looking down I found small nicks on the bare skin that my jean shorts didn't cover. Small lines of dried blood tracked down my skin. A chill ran down my spine as the cold from the concrete seeped into my small frame. The mumbling from before got louder, and unknown language reached my ears. I've never been a person of faith, but at that moment my heart felt connected to something bigger, someone greater than myself. So I prayed.

Please anyone, please help me. I begged in my head. A breeze picked up, blowing my hair around in front of my face. The words coming from the figure seeming to echo around us. Get me out of here, I all but screamed in my head. SAVE ME. The stinging from the cuts seemed to ache and get worse as I watched blood seep through the once closed wounds. My head started to get light, my breath coming out ragged. The wind around me getting stronger, leaves and dirty pieces of paper fluttered around me. The voice and it's echo becoming the only thing I could hear, their sound resonating through my chest. The candle flame burst into a column lighting the cloaked figure as it did. The gnarled faced matched the hands that had kidnapped me, his eyes full of hate that never left the book in his hands. The words left his mouth like a snake, slithering their way to my ears. I closed my eyes, the blazing candles growing almost to the concrete ceiling. The sensation of being connected to something unyielding. My hair whipped around my face as the earth started to shake. The walls I couldn't see started to rumble. Dirt and stones pelted the floor and my body, creating bruises I know I would feel later. The candle light vanished and my eyes burst open as everything suddenly stopped. 

In the quiet I could hear something shift and fumble, then the sound of a match being struck. The cloaked figure was illuminated by the lit match as he bent down to light the candles again. Abruptly I felt the presence of someone to my right, and I know they weren't there a moment ago. The cloaked figure rose slowly then jumped, startled, as his eyes locked onto the large figure next to me. 

"Ah, yes. Finally," The cloaked figure sighed. His voice returned to the sinister one he whispered into my ear.  "I've summoned you here, oh foul demon, to.." He stopped short as the large figure advanced on him. I tried to make out any details of the retreating frame, but a sharp voice interrupted my thoughts as the figure barricaded my sight from the old man and the light of the candle. 

"Is this guy bothering you queen?" The sharp voice seemed to size the old man up. I could hear the old man sputtering angrily, trying to find his words. 

"I have summoned you demon!" He bellowed. 

"Uh, no. You haven't." The 'demon' retorted, "I don't see you bleeding out in the middle of the summoning circle" That last comment made me inspect the concrete around me. In the dim light I noticed a faint line covered in dirt and debris that could almost be made out into a circle. 

"Then...then why are you here?" The old man stuttered.

"SHE summoned me." As it spoke the figure turned to point to me, its body moving enough to see the old man, his confused eyes meeting mine. His nostrils flared as his eyes became outraged.