Poisoned Lips

9: Fate

"It's not just by chance that we meet people. It's fate, Frey."

Days had gone by since Devland's absurd proposition. A band of five weak teenagers breaking out of the MOST secure prison was ridiculous. All five of them looked like toothpicks, except Devland who looked the most nourished out of all. Even if by some miracle, they had the strength to fight, how would they break out?

Azalea let out a small whimper and a tear rolled down her cheek. 

"Freyja, it's starting." She whispered.

Freyja rushed to Azalea and tore a piece of fabric from her pants. Before she could wrap it around Azalea's mouth, the latter cried aloud as her body was taken captive by convulsions.

"I swear to the skies, if I hear her voice one more time, I'll see to it that she dies today. This is your last warning." A guard threatened from outside their cell.

"I get it." She muttered.

Freyja wrapped the fabric around Azalea's mouth and moved backward to observe the scene. Her eyes had turned white, her lips were a shade of deep purple and her body was shaking uncontrollably. Golden liquid poured out of her mouth but most got absorbed by the white cloth. A small amount escaped the cloth and dripped on the ground, causing the concrete to melt.

Suddenly, Azalea's body went still. Instead of inhumane cries, all Freyja could hear was a little girl who was dying. Choked sobs floated through the quiet area. Freyja walked over to Azalea and helped her to lean against the wall. 

"Thank you, Freyja. These last few days have been hell. If not for you—"

"No need for that." Freyja gave her a forced smile. "I'm just fulfilling my duty as your cellmate."

Azalea chuckled, her purple lips looking a bit lighter. "Your duty would be to let me choke on my poison."

"You need to rest." 

Freyja retreated to the spot she claimed as hers. After the couple was taken, Azalea started to have convulsions and spasms. Letting Azea die wasn't an option (even though she previously considered it) because the guards were informed to leave dead bodies in their cell, per the High Guard's order.

"What time is it?" The lanky boy croaked.

"I assume it's the afternoon," Lila responded with a yawn.

"Where is lunch then?" He asked.

"There's no lunch today," Devland responded as he walked into the cell, no guards in sight. "Something about low food supplies. However, I was able to get something for all of you—"

"Where are you coming from?" Freyja interjected. "You keep leaving the cell and somehow always come back in one piece. What do you do outside?"

"I don't—"

"Answer me."

"I can't tell you."

Freyja glared at him. "You can."

"I can't, okay? If I could, I would. Believe me." He sighed and brought out a napkin from his pockets. "It has four chicken drumsticks. It's all I could get."

He distributed it to everyone and sank in his spot while everyone swallowed their chicken whole. Freyja, on the other hand, picked at it, suspicious. How did he get them? Her hunger didn't care about the question and it forced her to eat it. She glanced at Azalea who was still sleeping and decided to oppress Devland with blank stares. If he didn't want to tell her, she would force him to.

Devland squirmed under her gaze. 

Luckily, her attention was pulled from him as she heard footsteps and pleads coming from outside. Like starved animals, they rushed to the cell door to see who the guards were bringing in.