On a String

Chapter 19

Kai had always said she was smart for her seven years, and she could already see what the police man wasn't saying. She'd had enough experience with machines and vehicles to know that cars were big and fast and powerful. Crashes involving cars could kill-

Her parents were dead.

Then there were hands running though her hair and hugging her, the efforts obvious meant to be soothing. But the hands were those of strangers (not her mummy or daddy) so she hissed and spat at them, struggling until they (strangers!) finally gave up and placed her back in her brother's trembling arms...)

Police voices.

Car crash voices.

Funeral voices.

Her mummy, daddy...

("His radio is active, but for some reason, he's not answering,")

... and Kai.

Her heart suddenly began to beat again; a bird flapping against the walls of her ribcage. But the dying flutters were weak and brief- like a flame.

Burning.

Dying.

(Silence.)

Falling.

Resisting the urge to cry- or show her pain in any other way-, Nya turned away sharply and left the bridge, unwilling to hear anything else.

...And I still wonder, why heaven has died...

Cole was rising.

Up, up, up through an ocean; watching dancing lines of golden sunlight part and waver as he drifted in the water, away from the darkness. The feeling was so real; he almost expected to see bubbles floating by as he glided closer to the sun kissed surface.

Then consciousness fully returned, and his opened eyes were coldly greeted by a concrete floor. Feeling soon followed vision, and the image of paradise was abruptly shattered when the rest of his senses came back. There was a regular throbbing in the back of his skull, and his fingers were white with cold.

The cell was freezing.

His eyes widened at the realisation.

Cell.

He was in a cell. He was a prisoner.

Fuc-

(Don't.)

-keep it together!

He blinked in an attempt to clear the throbbing pain from the back of his head, distantly wondering what would happen next. Right on cue; as if they had been waiting for him to wake, someone behind him began to speak.

"Ninja..."

Startled by the soft voice, Cole jumped. The movement did little more than alert him to the fact that both his hands and ankles were cuffed together, and that he was more helpless than he'd first thought.

Not that his chances of getting out of this mess had been looking that great before anyway...

With a low groan, he attempted to turn around, but resignedly realised that dignified movement was a feat currently beyond him. He settled for twisting awkwardly to try and locate the source of the sound.

"...you belong to me," the voice floated like mist above a creek, or gas hissing from a leaky pipe. Sort of... delicate and sickly and dead. Cole shuddered, his numb fingers finally finding purchase against the chilling floor. He managed to turn a wobbly half circle by blindly scrambling, and was rewarded for his efforts with grazed knuckles. But the pain eventually paid off when a dark, hooded figure entered his field of vision.