EMERALD KINGDOM:The Escape

Chapter 2: Carlotta

Suddenly I realise why I'm here. Or at least...I think. I'm a prisoner. It all makes sense: the strange whispers from people passing by, the rusted cell, the reason why I'm being escorted to a big, scary building. It's the only logical explanation.
In fact, when we come to the guards at the old gate that stands before us, the general shows his ID badge and asks if we go through. But the guards didn't seem so happy about that. One of them protested, holding up her hand and raising an eyebrow. Then she and my escort seem to have a silent conversation. Eventually, they let us go through.

I glance upwards as the towering gate scrapes and squeals while it slowly opens inwards. It makes a shriek that is too painful to listen to. Shielding my ears, I watch the gate open.

The guards step aside as we make our way across another bridge-a draw bridge that is less than half the size of the last one. I look up at the general; "Umm...if you're taking me to some court or to an execution or something, I'm not going to be much help. Like I said, my memory is blanc."
He laughs coldly and gives me an icy stare, stopping in his path. "Technically, you are not a prisoner. And we are fully aware of your memory loss."
I stumble backwards and stare at hip deeply, studying him. What kind of place is this?
"Then...isn't there anything you can do about it?" Annoyingly, he ignores me.
"Right this way, young lady."
I sigh, frustrated. I feel like crying and spilling out tears of anger and sorrow. I wish I knew what was going on.
We reach the castle doors, only to face two more guards. How many guards does this place need? And it's not like anyone would actually want to enter this dark place. Anyway, why can't they just use a swipe card to get in?
"Bit old fashioned, isn't it?" Once again, I was given a resentful glare.
"What? The guards? Well, we like it that way. It's more...safe. If you like." Raising an eyebrow at him, I start to wonder if it's really because they like it that way, or if this place is even more evil than it lets on.

Walking through the door, I'm in awe. Picture a huge hall, with black, marble tiles and long pillars that line in rows next to the walls. At the end stood a large, empty throne that seems to be made out of bronze, with a blood red cushion on the bottom. At the head of the chair was the same sign that I saw earlier on the flag outside. I could tell what it symbolised: Power. Bad power.

We take a vast right turn into a long hallway with alternating sets of stairs on either side. Anxiously, I follow the general up the third set that leads in to an old fashioned office the size of a classroom. Bookshelves line the walls, which somehow surprises me. A glass chandelier that looks like a group of icicles hangs from the ceiling."You read?" I ask.
"Here in Diablo, we're not as unordinary as we might look. The deputy should be here any minute. Please take a seat. But not that one-" he gestures towards a tall leather seat on wheels with metal spikes growing out the top, and the head of a serpent half way down the back-"That one's reserved." He says, mimicking someone's voice.
So, I find a seat that looks the least like it's going to eat me. I look around. A lions head rests on the wall. Okay...even though my memory is fuzzy, I still don't think that's normal.

Moments later, another man strides in, who is even taller than my escort. His hair was spiky and he is wearing the same uniform as everyone else, but with three medals resting on his chest pocket. Although he is similar to everyone else in Diablo, his presence us unsettling. I've met him before. I'm sure of it.
In a polite case, I would have stood up and possibly have shaken his hand, but I don't feel like I should. He doesn't...deserve it. I don't know why. I just know.

"Ah, Miss Dye. It's a pleasure. You're very, ah, well known here. I see you've made yourself comfy." His voice is slow, like a cat's purr just before it pounces.
I stare at him in suspicion. "Miss Die?"
"Charlotte Dye, correct? D, Y, E. That is your name?"
"I wouldn't know."
"Ah, I remember. Suffering from amnesia. We all get that when we're nervous. My apologies, I forgot."
Did I imagine it, or did he just wink at the general? He takes his seat.
"I don't think it's amnesia,"I say.
"Oh? And why ever not?"
"Just a hunch."
"Any other hunches you'd like to tell me?" He asks, leaning forward in his chair. I purse my lips in answer. I don't trust telling him about my weird experience with the emerald.
"I see. The boss will want to see you. And I suppose General Grey here told you that you work with us now." I can tell he is choosing his words carefully, nodding slowly every now and then.
"Yes. He also told me that I am very powerful. So I suppose you desperately need me."
"You could put it like that. You'll be helping us face an enemy, on the front line during war and you'll be deciding tactics in the mean time."
"You say that I work with you now. Where was I before? Because General Grey said that you would tell me."
His expression darkens rapidly as he shoots the general an icy look.
"You're past and where you come from doesn't matter now. But if you must know, you came from another place, organisation if you like, where you were called a 'PowerBorn.' End of story."
"You're not telling me everything."
"Like I said, it doesn't matter."
"Well in that case, it won't matter to tell me!" I shoot back, my voice raising.
"You're with us now. In fact, change her clothes. Dorm 89." Then he sees my necklace, his eyes widening: "And get that thing off of her! You'll know what the boss will do when she sees that!"
"No!" I can't become one of them, especially when the clothes I'm wearing are the only things I have from my old life. And the emerald. I need it. I don't know why, I just do.
"Yes!" Says the deputy, shouting back, his fists banging on the table. A wave of echoes fill the room. I clutch my necklace.
"Carlotta Sky, I will not let you win again, now hand me that necklace!" He's standing up now.
Before that man can get hold of me, I flee the room.