Splintered Illusion

» seventeen «

A feeling of déjà vu was accompanied with the haze I woke up to. The only thing different this time was that instead of waking up in my safe, comfy bed to a concerned Puck, my eyes adjusted to the darkness surrounding me.

Coughing, I pushed my body up with my elbow into a sitting position, my muscles aching from the position they were in on the cold, hard floor. I shuddered as I looked around at the cell I was situated in. It was dark. And cold. And damp. And everything that I wished it wasn't.

My head pounded and I brought a hand up to it in an attempt to console the headache forming in my temple.

"Feeling sore?" a sharp voice rang out, echoing throughout the cell.

I jumped, startled as my eyes darted frantically around my surroundings, trying to find the person who spoke. "W-who's there?" I asked into the darkness, my voice scratchy. My eyes widened when I heard the same person chuckle.

"Guess," the person - now identifiable as a man - said.

I focused hard on the voice. It sounded familiar, but I just couldn't put my finger to it. The man sighed, and I watched as his sleek, leather shoes stepped closer to me. My eyes trailed upwards, all the way to his face, and I gasped.

Puck's father.

I could tell he was satisfied by my reaction from the smirk that rose to his lips - a smirk so very cold and familiar to Puck's own. My heartbeat accelerated and I attempted to push myself away from him, my back hitting the wall behind me.

"What do you w-want?" I tried to make my voice come out firm, but it wavered at the end, and the smirk on Puck's father only deepened at that.

He pulled at the cuff of his dark, expensive-looking suit. "You want a list?" I glared at him and he let out a cold, humorless laugh. "I want a lot of things. But most of all, I just want my son back."

I was confused, and Puck's father could tell by the frown on my face. "What do you mean? You already have him."

"Oh, but I don't," he said, turning away from me and slowly pacing the length of the room in front of me. "But I can change that...with you."

My eyes widened. "Me?!" I said incredulously.

"Yes," he answered calmly, his attention slowly wavering away from me with each step that he took. "Yes," he said again, softly, mostly to himself, deep in thought.

I gulped. Dear God, what have I gotten myself into? "How?" I asked him. "How is kidnapping me going to get you back Puck?"

Puck's father stopped walking, and slowly turned to me, a thoughtful expression on his face. When his dark eyes landed on me - reminding me of Puck's - a smirk rose to his lips. "Because he likes you. Isn't it obvious?"

"No," I said immediately. "What are you talking about?"

Puck's father rolled his eyes. "It's not your place to understand. It won't make a difference. Just sit there like the obedient girl you should be and you'll be fine...hopefully," he added the last part quietly to himself as he turned and pulled the cell door open, letting it shut behind him as I heard the sound of his footsteps getting further and further away.

I scoffed. Obedient girl.

As soon as I was sure Puck's dad was really gone, I scrambled up from my place on the floor and rushed towards where the cell door was. Hoping against hope that he'd forgotten to lock it as he went out, I pulled at the knob, but it didn't budge.

Huffing in frustration, I let out an annoyed grunt and kicked at the floor, panic starting to overtake me. How am I supposed to get out of here?

My eyes roamed the cell I was in hopelessly, and I was just about to give up and fall to the floor, moaning about my terrible life...but then something on the floor caught my eye. Frowning, I walked over to where I was previously a sitting, and my eyes widened at the crowbar that sat idly on the ground.

Grinning, I wondered how those fools hadn't noticed it yet and stooped down to grab it. I scrunched up my nose in disgust when my hand felt something icky and slimy on the tool, but ignored it as I went back to the cell door. It was all I had for now.

Letting the end of the crowbar slide into the small opening of the door, I used all my strength to pull on it. My breathing grew shallow and I felt all my muscles screaming at me, begging to stop the assault taking place on them. But I had to get out. Placing my foot against the wall for more stability, I pulled.

The only thing I managed to do was dent the crowbar and tire myself. My knees gave out and I fell to the floor in a heap, my heart pounding inside my chest. So tired. So, so tired.

I was going to die. I was sure of it.

My head felt like it was on fire as I let my eyes dart across the cell, taking in everything and looking for anything that could help me get out of this place.

All of a sudden, the cell door was thrown open and I bolted upward. A bored looking man stood there, a pair of shackles in his hands. I was confused for a minute - in the time span of which the man approached me and started gathering my hands in his. When realization finally dawned on me, it was too late.

I screamed in horror and tried to pull my hands away from his. But his cold hands were strong and persistent. And his expression was one of haven done this multiple times without struggle.

I didn't stop thrashing around, my whole body protesting against his tight hold. My arm shot out and elbowed him in the groin. It was only then that the man's grasp loosened, a groan leaving his lips. I took that as my advantage and quickly scrambled away from him, forcing myself into a standing position and snatching the shackles out of his hands before he could realize.

Without another thought, I threw the chains around his neck and pulled, strangling him. It was as if another force took over me, the adrenaline forcing me to survive against all these cruelties. The man made a choking noise, his hands reaching up in an attempt to try and escape. But I was persistent. And I didn't let go. Not for one second.

It was only when the man's body went limp that I let go and started panicking. Oh my god, I thought in horror. I killed him.

Reaching down hastily, I put my finger to his throat, where his pulse was supposed to be and almost sagged in relief when I felt his pulse still beating.

And then, without any hesitation, I turned and fled the cell. No one had noticed yet what I had done, and I was grateful.

I felt my hair flying behind me as I ran, turning corner after corner.

All of a sudden, metal clanged against metal behind me, and I spun around to find a man bending down on the floor, picking something up that he dropped.

He would see me. I knew it. I wasn't fast enough to escape this. Not this time.

But just as I waited for my impending doom, someone grabbed me from behind and pulled. I opened my mouth to scream but a hand landed on my mouth, squeezing it and preventing me from crying out as they pulled me around the corner and into a very dark room.

So. Basically, I know what I want to write, but it's as if the words just won't leave my fingertips.