LightReader

Chapter 33 - Chapter 32: The Prisoner's Trap

Alister

I tug at the chains on my shackles attached to the ceiling again. My arms ache from being suspended for who knows how long, and a dull throb pulses through my skull.

How long have I been here?

I blink in the dark. Shadows stretch across stone walls, faintly lit by a glow beyond the rusted bars. The cell could hold six, yet I'm alone, cold stone under my bare feet. A red blinking light above tells me I'm watched.

They took away all my knives too. Not to mention without my glasses, I'm left half blind in here.

A rustle breaks the silence, followed by metal clinking against stone. I squint into the darkness, but the cell across remains unseen. "Who's there?" I call out cautiously.

For a moment, nothing. Then—

"Alister? Is that you?" The voice is groggy—but familiar.

Relief floods me, and I try to move forward, but the chains yank me back. "You alright, Simon?"

"I don't know." He admits. "I can't see anything."

Another voice echoes from the cell next to mine. "Rise and shine, guys." It's casual, almost too relaxed for the situation, but unmistakable. Zach.

"Where are we?" Simon calls out, panicking.

"Some kind of underground prison, it seems." Zach replies calmly but with an edge of frustration.

"Did you try breaking these chains?" Simon asks urgently.

"That's like the only thing I've been doing." He replies. "And no, it hasn't worked, obviously."

I guess brute force isn't an option.

"Where's Steph? And Clara?" I ask.

"I'm here." Steph calls out from somewhere down the hall.

I press on. "And Clara?" A cold feeling settles in my gut as I wait for an answer.

Zach finally says, his voice quieter this time. "I haven't heard her. I tried calling her name, but nothing."

The weight of his words presses down on me. Where is she? Why isn't she here with the rest of us?

So many questions swirl inside me as I try to stay calm. The gem is still here. She's still alive. That should be reassuring, but it isn't. Just because she's alive doesn't mean she's safe.

"Is she hurt, Leora?" I ask, closing my eyes. Yet she doesn't say a word. And I know it's because I didn't do as she said.

"Answer me!" I yell out, but I'm still met with silence.

If only I could break these damn chains, I'd be gone in an instant. I'd tear this place apart, searching every dark corridor, every locked room, until I've found her.

"I told you to run away." Leora whispers, materializing infront of me, arms crossed and staring down at me with disapproval.

"After Ignoring and disregarding me countless times, you have the nerve to make orders? Alister, this is a criminal organization. Every horrible thing you can think of, they do it. Hitmen, human trafficking, kidnapping and torture," she says gesturing to the cell. "All of it using the artifacts they have. And you willingly handed yourself to them."

I don't believe Leora knew who Everley was or that she's part of the organization. If she did, she would have definitely told me about it from the start.

"We have a common enemy here. If you're worried they'd hurt me and if you're still trying to get away from them, then we have to work together. For now." I force the words out even if it feels like chewing needles.

We suddenly hear the door creak open. The sound is followed by the clack of heels against stone. "Sorry for the wait. I know you must be dying to see me." Everley says with mock sweetness as she stops infront of my cell, completely at ease.

"Where is she?" I glare at her.

Everley chuckles. "Straight to the point, huh?" She steps closer to the bars. "That was quite a plan you concocted. Tell me, how does it feel? Knowing you've lost?"

I lift my head up a little. "For a grown woman, you seem so proud of yourself for facing against 19-year-olds." I take note of her smirk faltering. "You mentioned you had a son, right? What about the father? Did he divorce you, or did you kill him off with that precious dagger of yours?"

I can see my words hit her. Asking around about her family and learning her husband killed himself was the right move.

But she quickly composes herself. "Tell me, where did you hear about my dagger?"

I don't answer immediately. It's obvious she wants to confirm whatever Clara told her. I glance at Leora. This is where our evil connection will be of use to us.

"Tell her a drifter named Justin told you. Was obsessed with it." she answers.

"A drifter," I answer hesitantly. "A guy named Justin was obsessed with it. Kept going on about how great it was."

Everley hums, tapping a nail against the iron bars. "Interesting." she murmurs, and her gaze sharpens. "And these gems of yours?" she asks. Not surprised she's the owner of the dagger and saw through us the moment we entered the retreat.

"Quite the bond, isn't it?" She continues. "Master and servant."

...What?

I school my face, but her words catch me off guard. What the heck is she—

Then it clicks.

Zach's sudden laugh bursts out, then cuts off as he clamps his mouth shut. "Cracks me up every time." He mutters, trying to cover.

"How can it not?" Steph's voice wavers, close to laughter. "It's just so accurate."

I hate them so much right now.

I can see the game Clara's playing. She wants Everley to think I'm her puppet, so the focus shifts to her instead of me.

A perfect excuse to make interrogating me pointless.

I lean back against the wall. "You already know, don't you?" I say. "Why bother asking me?"

Everley smiles. "Indulge me."

I let my gaze drift to the ceiling. "You're wasting your time if you think I can tell you anything she hasn't allowed me to."

She watches me closely, searching for cracks. "We'll see about that." Her eyes glint, the sort of predatory look. She pulls something out of her side bag, and my blood runs cold. The room seems to shrink around me as she pulls out long strands of hair—golden hair.

The sight of those strands that should belong to Clara, being held by Everley like some twisted prize, cuts straight through me. I try to tell myself that they're fake, but...I can tell that's a lie.

Especially after seeing a heart-shaped locket glinting among the strands.

Everley dangles the hair in front of me. "Speechless, huh?"

Rage coils in my chest, hot and unrelenting.

"Resist." Leora warns. "It's just hair. It'll grow back." The times come to mind when she styled it differently each day, when it whipped through the air, and when it cascaded down her back in the rain.

"I told you," I say, barely restraining the fire beneath. "You won't get anything from me."

She leans in, testing my patience. "I think we'll see how long your loyalty lasts when I start taking pieces of her."

The words strike like a match against gasoline.

In an instant, the bundle of hair lifts from her hand, coiling and wrapping around her neck. She gasps, her hands shooting up to try and pull them away, but they're already tight, choking her.

"Ali-I mean Alec! I don't think that's a good idea right now!" Simon cries out.

"Kill her!" Leora insists.

I can feel the stinging in my chest but ignore it, watching Everley claw at her throat. The main entrance to the cells open, and two pairs of footprints rush in.

Before I can tighten my grip any further, two guards come into view, weapons raised at me. "Stop!" one shouts.

But Everley's hand rises, stopping them. The guards hesitate before backing up.

She starts to step away from my cell while struggling to breathe. As soon as she's out of sight, I feel the pressure in my mind loosen. The power drains away, and the strands fall limp to the ground.

Everley collapses to her knees, coughing as she gasps for breath. Meanwhile, I cough up blood, doubling over, lowering my head to the ground while hanging limp by my arms.

"Ah, the things you discover when you push them to the edge." She says with fascination as she stays out of view. "So you can levitate stuff, huh? It's definitely a mid-grade dynamic one. I knew it."

She peeks at me from the corner. "And by the looks of it, you can only control what's in your line of vision."

No...what have I done.

"I was curious to see it first-hand when the staff told me about it." Everley straightens, brushing the dirt from her clothes. "Master and servant. Can't believe I almost fell for it. Maybe it's a unique dual ability?" she mused. "Let's hope I won't need the higher-ups. I'd rather use this as leverage to switch departments."

"I'll...tell you everything if you let them go." I say as I swallow the coppery taste of blood thick on my tongue.

Hopefully she falls for this self-sacrificial nonsense. I know full well she won't keep her promise. But as long as she's listening, that's enough.

"Sweetie," Everley says, voice dripping with condescension. "You're not in a position to be making demands."

"Even if it's highly confidential?" I smirk.

That gets her attention. A crack in her practiced arrogance. "And Clara?"

"You'll only get lies and half-truths from her. If it's answers you want, I can give them at a fair price."

That gets a reaction. A confirmation that, no matter how in control she wants to appear, she isn't immune to doubt. She rolls her eyes and gestures for me to continue.

I inhale slowly. "It wasn't just your dagger Justin revealed to us. He told us stories about your organization. About...how everyone is bound by contract and can't say anything. Except him." I lift my chin. "He's got a really loose tongue. Went on about all the artifacts you have."

"Is this a joke?" She almost takes a step forward, but she stops herself just in time, remembering how I had used my abilities before.

I glance at Leora, barely turning my head.

She exhales through her nose and closes her eyes for a moment. "Pearl of Youth."

I repeat it quickly. "Pearl of Youth." The moment the words leave my mouth, I see it. Everley's eyes widening.

Leora doesn't give her time to recover. "Sandman's Dust."

"Sandman's Dust," I echo, and the color drains from her face. For the first time since she walked in here, she looks genuinely unsettled.

"I can keep going if you'd like," I say weakly, letting the pain in my body become apparent.

Everley doesn't respond right away. She knows I'm not bluffing—not entirely. There's a possible spy in her organization, leaking information. That's a dangerous problem. A problem that needs handling immediately.

A sharp cough escapes me, and blood splatters against the floor. Everley's gaze snaps to the crimson streak on my lips. She doesn't want to lose me yet. Not when I've left her hanging. "What's wrong with you?"

"I don't..." I say before trailing off, swaying slightly, and let my body go slack.

A silence stretches between us before she grunts. "Get someone to check up on him," she orders. "Make sure he's alive."

I hear footsteps shuffle away in a hurry and Everley muttering about the mess she now has to deal with.

"Are you ok?" Simon yells out as the door slams shut.

I stay silent.

"What kind of dumb story was—" Steph begins to say until Zach cuts her off.

"Steph, don't you remember? He told us that the man in a green suit said all that to them." He says, urging her that we need to stick to this story.

"So that's your plan, huh?" Leora says, kneeling down. "Either it's going to work, or you just dug yourself an even bigger grave."

Why isn't the person who was supposed to check up on me here yet?

"Stop scowling. If you're pretending to be unconscious, then you need to be very still." She criticizes. "They're watching you. Making sure it's safe to be near you."

And then, the sound I've been waiting for—the faint jingle of keys cuts through the silence.

Two sets of footsteps. One heavier, the other lighter, slightly impatient. The cell door is unlocked and pushed open. One of them steps inside while the other lingers just outside with a gun.

The man inside crouches infront of me. He leans in, fingers pressing against my neck, searching for a pulse. I wait for afew seconds, then snap my eyes open.

My hand shoots up and the guard outside barely has time to register the movement before the gun in his hand is yanked free. It flips in the air before slamming into my open palm.

I pull the trigger at him. His body jerks back, crashing against the opposite wall.

The man in front of me flinches, his hand instinctively reaching for his own weapon, but I quickly fire the gun at him. Blood pouring out of his head as he goes limp.

I focus on the set of keys soaked in blood before levitating them towards me. After unlocking the shackles, I push myself to my feet and step out of the cell. I slip the key and unlock Simon's cell before entering and moving to unlock his shackles.

"I thought I was gonna die here." He sniffs as his wrists are freed from the cuffs.

"Get Zach out and check the bodies for what we can use as weapons." I order, handing him one key as I move towards Steph's cell.

The key clicks into place, and the door creaks open. She hung by her hands, face swollen, blood dried at her temple, arms bruised, lip split—yet she only glared at me, breath ragged.

"Don't you dare look at me like that," she says, her voice still sharp. Her pride—her anger—is still intact.

"Like what?" I ask as I inch closer.

She glances away for just a second. "With pity."

Ah...so she's still hung up on that?

I smile, a little more than I should, as the memory plays like a film in my head. Smoke curling in every direction and the pain of the fresh burn on my arm as I carried out a sobbing, kicking, fourteen-year-old girl from the burning building who fought me like I was the enemy. I can still feel the sharp sting in my palm as I slapped her after dropping her on the ground to snap her out of her hysteria.

Your parents are dead. Your brother is dead. If you don't stop crying and shouting this instant, I'm going to drag you back in there and let you burn alongside them.

My first words to Stephanie Hans. Or rather, Hans Soo-jin.

"It's not pity this time."

I step closer, my hand reaching for the shackles around her wrists. "It's pride."

I feel her tense up and glance at me in confusion.

As soon as the shackles fall, I step back, looking down at her. "Please tell me you left them in a way worse condition." I smirk as I reach out, offering my hand.

She closes her eyes and smirks back. "Obviously." Her calloused fingers wrap around mine, and she stands up. "Let's go save your princess."

I'm about to protest when Zach's panicked voice breaks in. "Steph!" He cries, rushing forward, pulling her into a tight, trembling embrace. "Are you okay?" His eyes take in her battered form, worry etched across his face.

Her body goes rigid for a second before she weakly smiles, patting his back. "Yup. This is nothing."

"Come on." I say, moving out of the cell.

Simon steps into view from the shadows and hands us two guns. "I only found these." Then he hesitantly gestures towards the hall. "Also, there are other people here too. But..."

I take one of the guns and step forward, squinting into the darkened row of cells.

He's right.

Some people hang limply by their chains, arms raised above their heads like crucified corpses. Others lie on the stone floor in crumpled heaps, unmoving.

I move forward, glancing from cell to cell, and everyone seems to be in the same state. Heavily bruised, dead eyes that stare at the ground, dried blood sticking to their torn clothes. They also have no legs. Some amputations are clean. Others look jagged and torn, like they were ripped away. As if to make it hard for them to try and escape...or for anyone trying to help them escape.

"How barbaric." Zach mumbles beside me. Fists clenched tightly with rage. "If we could just find a way to get them all out of here..."

"We are not doing that." I say, putting a stop to whatever plan is forming in his head that will definitely be troublesome. I bend down and pick up Clara's necklace from the bundle of hair on the way as we walk ahead. "If you're angry, use it. Make these bastards feel even a fraction of their cruelty. Don't hold back, got it?"

I can see the determination in their eyes and the malice behind Steph's grin for finally being able to let loose.

The entrance appears. We push the door open, and light spills into the dim hallway.

More Chapters