15. Chapter 15

15

Chapter 15

Mia

" M iss Blackwood? Are you ready?" The polite tone of the guard at the door leaves me frowning in confusion.

"Um…sure," I reply as I slide off the bed and land on shaky legs. There's no impatience or demand for me to hurry up as I take a moment to find my feet. I try not to cringe away as I draw nearer to him, but my apprehension is unnecessary. Today, there aren't any stinging slaps or harsh shoves.

This is…different.

I blink groggily as the guard leads me back to my cell. The events of the past day – or has it been longer? – swirl in my mind like a fog. My body still feels weak, but at least I'm on my feet now.

As we approach the familiar door, I steel myself for the stark, oppressive space that's become my prison. The guard unlocks it, and I step inside, ready to face another day of confinement.

But what greets me stops me in my tracks.

"What the…?" I breathe, unable to hide my shock.

Gone is the cold, bare room with its hard cot. In its place, I find a space that's almost…inviting. A plush bed with actual pillows and a soft-looking comforter dominates one corner. There's a small bookshelf stocked with volumes and even a cushy armchair beside it.

I take a hesitant step forward, my fingers brushing against the smooth wood of a writing desk. Pens and paper are neatly arranged on its surface.

Part of me wants to collapse onto that bed, to sink into bliss after days of discomfort. But a larger part recoils at the idea.

This is wrong. All of it.

I shouldn't be grateful for basic decency. I shouldn't feel a twinge of appreciation for my captors. This is still a prison, no matter how they dress it up.

And yet…the prospect of a soft place to sleep tugs at me. I'm so tired, so drained. Would it be so terrible to accept this small mercy?

This is how Stockholm Syndrome starts, Mia!

I shake my head, trying to clear the conflicting thoughts. Is this some kind of psychological game? Make me feel indebted, soften me up?

But what for? They can take my blood whether I want to give it or not. They don't need to soften me up.

Something's going on.

I can't let my guard down. I won't.

Those bloodsuckers are not to be trusted. Ever.

But as I sink onto the edge of the bed, feeling its give beneath me, I can't help the small sigh that escapes my lips.

"I'll leave you now," the guard says, still politely. "Good day, Miss."

Good day? Hah!

But I'm too exhausted to respond. Instead, I sink onto my side and curl up on the soft mattress, pulling the comforter over me.

I'm asleep almost immediately.

A sharp rap on the door jolts me from my deep slumber. I blink, momentarily disoriented by the unfamiliar comfort surrounding me.

Right. The new cell. The cushy bed that feels like a trap.

"Miss Blackwood?" a man's voice, crisp and professional, calls from beyond the door. "May I come in?"

May I come in?

What if I said no? Right. When did that ever make a difference?

I sit up, smoothing my hair and steeling myself. "Yes," I call back, my voice raspier than I'd like.

The door opens, revealing a guard I haven't seen before. He's tall, with close-cropped dark hair and an expression of polite detachment. Nothing like Patty's sneering contempt. He's human, too, so I'm guessing that it's daytime.

"Where's Patty?" I ask before I can stop myself. Part of me hates giving them the satisfaction of asking questions, but curiosity wins out.

The new guard's face remains impassive, but something flickers in his eyes. From where I'm sitting, it looks a lot like fear.

"I'm afraid I can't discuss other personnel," he says smoothly. "But I can assure you that Patty won't be interacting with you again. Her position has been…terminated."

His words carry an air of finality, and I give an involuntary shudder. What happened to her? As much as I despised the woman, I hope she's okay. She may have been a bitch, but I wouldn't wish vampire justice upon anyone.

"I'm here to offer you some time outside your cell," the guard continues. "If you're feeling up to it after your recent…ordeal."

I study him, searching for any hint of deception or cruelty. His attitude is so different from what I've come to expect. No sneers, no rough handling. Just calm professionalism.

The thought of leaving this cage is tempting, even if it's just for a little while. But suspicion gnaws at me.

What's the catch?

"And if I say I don't want to?" I challenge, lifting my chin.

"Then you're welcome to remain here," he replies evenly. "The choice is yours."

I weigh my options. More hours of isolation in this deceptively comfortable room, or a chance to see beyond these four walls, maybe gather more information about my surroundings.

"I'll go," I decide, standing up. "Lead the way."

I follow the guard through the winding corridors of the facility, my mind racing with questions and possibilities. Every turn, every door we pass, I commit to memory. You never know what might be useful later.

Suddenly, we're approaching a set of heavy double doors. My heart rate picks up. What lies beyond? Another lab? Some new form of torture?

This is it. The moment I learn it's all just some twisted trick.

The guard pushes them open, and I squint against the sudden brightness.

Sunlight. Actual sunlight. Tears begin to well, and it's not because the sun is blinding me.

I step forward hesitantly, hardly daring to believe it. The warmth hits my skin, and I can't help but close my eyes, savoring the sensation. How long has it been since I felt the sun on my face?

As my eyes adjust, I take in my surroundings. We're in a garden. Not just a small courtyard but a sprawling space filled with lush greenery and vibrant flowers. The scent of roses and freshly cut grass wafts up and I inhale deeply.

It's…beautiful. And utterly unexpected.

I glance back at the guard, confusion warring with suspicion. He simply nods, giving me silent permission to explore as he hovers a few feet away.

Cautiously, I move further into the garden. My bare feet sink into soft grass, and a gentle breeze caresses my face. It feels surreal after days in that sterile cell.

Almost unconsciously, I reach for my magic. Inside, it had felt completely smothered, but out here…there's a faint stirring. It's like a whisper compared to my usual power, but it's there. Hope flares in my chest for a moment before reality crashes back down. It's still not enough to do anything useful. Whatever they're using to suppress my abilities is clearly working outside as well.

Still, even this faint connection is a comfort. I close my eyes again, basking in the sun and that tiny spark of my true self.

I breathe in the fresh air, savoring every moment of this unexpected experience. The warmth of the sun on my skin feels like heaven after days in that horrible cell. As I stand there, eyes closed, I hear the creak of a door opening.

My eyes snap open, instantly alert. More guards emerge from the building, but they're not alone. My heart leaps as I realize they're escorting other witches into the garden. They're being led a safe distance away but not too far for me to get a look at them.

I try not to stare too obviously, not wanting to draw attention, but I can't help studying each face that appears. Some look as shell-shocked as I feel, blinking in the bright sunlight. Others move with a weariness that speaks of long captivity.

One woman catches my eye. She's tall and willowy, with long dark hair streaked with silver. As she passes near me, our gazes lock for just a moment. But in that brief connection, I see a flash of recognition, a spark of solidarity.

My breath catches. It's not much – we don't dare do more than share that fleeting look – but it's enough to send a surge of hope through me. I'm not alone here. There are others like me, other witches who might become allies.

For the first time since my capture, I feel a glimmer of possibility. Maybe there's a chance we can find a way out of this nightmare.

The guard clears his throat behind me. "Miss Blackwood."

I turn to look at him.

"It's time to go back in."

My heart sinks, but I force myself to stay positive. This is a big change for the better.

"Sure," I say. I trudge back inside, my mind whirling with everything I've just experienced. The guard's hand on my arm is gentle but firm, guiding me through the maze-like corridors. As we walk, I can't shake the image of those other witches – their weary faces, their haunted eyes. And that one woman…the connection we shared, however brief, lingers in my thoughts.

Back in my "upgraded" cell, I sink onto the bed, my fingers absently tracing patterns on the soft comforter. The taste of fresh air still lingers on my tongue, warming my lungs, a bittersweet reminder of the world beyond these walls.

I close my eyes, focusing on that tiny spark of magic I felt in the garden. It was weak, barely there, but it was mine. They haven't taken everything from me, not yet. I hold onto that feeling, nurturing it like a fragile flame.

My body still aches, still feels drained from days of bloodletting. But beneath the exhaustion, I feel something else stirring. A fire that refuses to be extinguished.

I'm not alone here. There are others like me suffering the same fate. And if we're here together, we can find a way out together. I know we can!

I may be weak now, my magic suppressed, and my body pushed to its limits. But I won't stay this way forever. I'll recover, gather my strength. And when I do…

A smile pulls at the corner of my lips, small but determined. I'm getting out of here. No matter what it takes, no matter how long I have to wait, I will find a way. And I won't leave the others behind.

The vampires think they've won, that they've broken us. But they've made a grave mistake. They've given us hope, however small. And hope, combined with a witch's determination, is a dangerous thing.