Deliverance [malexmale]

Chapter Five

I wobbled and tried to catch my balance, but it was impossible. Every time I thought I had gotten myself standing, I stumbled and fell back in the snow. I tried to lock my muscles to keep myself upright, but my muscles had suddenly turned to pudding. I shook my head, but that only made it worse.

A strong grip caught the back of my neck and threw me back into the snow on my back. I gasped, blinking as I tried to focus in on the attacker, who stood over me, watching me. He was trying to gauge my reaction to whatever it was he'd forced down my throat. Even now, I could still taste that foul gel. It felt like it was still sticking to the inside of my throat, and sucking the moisture from my mouth.

Breathing hard, I tried to get up, but he shoved me down with an ease that sent panic rushing through my veins. He climbed on top of me and grabbed my face, trying to steady my head that felt like it wouldn't stop lolling about. I couldn't hold my head straight. It felt too heavy. It felt like the strength was steadily draining from my body.

He said something in that language of his, but I didn't understand a single word of it. So I spat in his face and he snarled, bashing his head into mine. I groaned and he dropped me back in the snow, stepping away from me. My vision was growing dark at the edges, so I couldn't pinpoint the sound of a door banging open nearby. My attacker jerked his head up, and someone shouted, but I couldn't make out what they were saying.

One second, my attacker was there, and the next he was gone. I think I recognized the security guard from inside the building. He dropped down in the snow beside me and took out his cell phone. I had no idea who he was calling. I wanted to shove him back when he reached out to touch my face, grabbing my jaw roughly and studying me before he said something else into his phone.

My vision darkened until I felt like I couldn't see anything clearly anymore. I caught flashes of images from my past, images of the labyrinth in Atlantis, the strange Orb device. Gold jewelry, someone's pale hands shackled over their head, a pair of arms going around me. Panic settled in and I struggled to lift my arms and push whoever was holding me. I was shaken roughly, but I couldn't figure out who was hanging onto me. I felt their arms going around my waist and I snarled at them, snapping my teeth at whoever was grabbing onto me so roughly, but I couldn't find them.

There was a sudden jolt and I hesitated. It felt like the elevator in the apartment building. Or was it another building? My breathing became ragged with fear and I struggled to keep it contained. I reached deep inside myself for that cold dark place I'd gone to whenever war had become too much for me. When the sight of blood had begun to churn my stomach, when the sounds of screaming men drowned out the sound of my own heartbeat. The sound of swords clashing together in a symphony of metal, the ground so saturated in blood that it squished beneath my teeth.

I felt someone pulling me, dragging me, and I could hear muffled voices speaking, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. I heard doors open and close, and the telltale sign of the elevator beeping. One second, I was being roughly hauled around like a heavy rag doll and the next, I felt myself laying on a soft bed.

My vision was returning, but everything looked strange. I felt like I was dreaming. The same weak feeling I had whenever I dreamt of that special place I'd go to when I needed a reason to keep going. I smelled the ocean, sandalwood, felt something warm around me like sunlight and a tropical climate. I wasn't cold anymore.

I had to be dreaming.

I felt someone's hands touch me and I blinked quickly, trying to figure out why that was. Hannibal had never touched me in my dreams. He'd never touched me gently, therefore I couldn't even dream it. He'd never looked at me like he cared, never softened his features for me like he did for Akin, therefore, his expression while he slept was one of peace and calm. Because that was the only time I'd ever seen him calm, in his sleep. He never spoke to me in my dreams, because the only time he spoke to me was with a tone filled with contempt and disgust.