Page 5 of Dark Bonds

I don’t answer. I can’t. My throat is dry, and my tongue feels like sandpaper, but the fever has broken, and I can breathe a little easier. The rattle in my lungs is still there, but it’s quieter now.

“Good,” Valerie murmurs. “You’ll be up and about in no time.”

She leaves the room, and I close my eyes, letting the darkness wash over me. Even in sleep, however, I can’t escape the reality of my situation. Valerie’s touch lingers, providing a constant reminder of my captivity. The psychological torture is worse than any physical pain, her manipulation and deceit a relentless presence in my mind.

In my dreams, I see the cat on the ceiling, its tail flicking at an ink blot. It mocks me, a silent witness to my suffering. Somewhere in the darkness, I hear the faintest whisper of my shadows calling to me, urging me to survive.

One day, I will get out of here. One day, I will make her pay. For now, though, I’m a prisoner in my own mind, waiting for the moment when I can reclaim my freedom. The thought of escape is a faint glimmer of hope in the darkness, a promise I make to myself every waking moment.

No one will ever hold me hostage again.

No one.

As I drift between consciousness and sleep, I begin to piece together fragments of Valerie’s plans. The “training” she mentioned… What could it mean? Whatever it is, I know it can’t be good. With each passing moment, I feel a tiny spark of strength returning. My shadows may have abandoned me for now, but I refuse to abandon myself.

I will survive this, I will escape, and when I do, Valerie will learn that she created something far more dangerous than she ever intended.

The cat on the ceiling stares down at me, its eyes seeming to glow in the dim light. For a moment, I swear I see it move, its tail twitching in a silent message of encouragement.

Stay strong, Frankie. Your time will come.

Chapter 2

Frankie

My eyes fly open.

Water surrounds me, its icy embrace making my limbs feel heavy and sluggish. Little lights dance before my eyes, distorting the underwater world. I kick to the surface and gasp for breath, each inhale causing a sharp pain.

Memories flood back of Valerie’s cruel face, her cold hands, and the suffocating room she kept me in. I recall the sickly sweet perfume that masked the stench of mold and decay, and the way she smiled as she watched me suffer.

For more than a minute, I focus solely on my breathing, shoving my memories down into the black hole of my soul where I can forget them.

I close my eyes tight, trying to force the vision from my mind, but Valerie haunts me now more than ever. She promised to end my suffering countless times if I just obeyed her, dangling false hope in front of me like a carrot.

I thought I pushed her out of my life and out of my head, but she’s still alive somewhere, and the knowledge that she might still be watching and waiting makes my skin crawl. I remember the rumors whispered by other captives, stories of Valerie’s ongoing experiments and her insatiable hunger for power.

Could she still be plotting her next move?

I nearly vomit at the thought.

Five years of torture in that dim, damp room. Five years of her twisted games and promising myself that I’d kill her one day, that I’d play karma and make sure she got what she deserved, but I was too weak, too tired, and too run down.

I barely survived.

I remember the times she would sit beside me, whispering that no one was coming for me, and I believed her because no one ever came for me. In the end, I had to save myself.

When my eyes open again, I find Dorian kneeling on one knee at the edge of a very familiar spring. His fog blue eyes assess me with intensity and concern. There’s blood smeared on his once pristine white shirt, and his slacks aren’t just dirty, they appear torn and tattered, as if he’s been through a battle. He looks like he’s been through hell, and maybe he has. Seeing him here, in this state, reminds me of the day Valerie took me, and how I fought and bled and no one came to help me. The sight of him stirs a confusing mix of anger and gratitude within me.

The cave around us is dimly lit, the walls rough and uneven. Glowing symbols etched into the stone pulse faintly, casting eerie shadows that dance across Dorian’s face. The air is thick with the scent of minerals and ancient magic, a heady mixture that makes my head spin. The gentle lapping of the spring against the rocky cavern shore creates a soothing rhythm, so at odds with the strife in my mind.

A thousand thoughts rush to me all at once.

What happened?

How am I here?

Why is he here?

---