The Hunting: Ch 19

Instructions

TW: t0rture and de@th threats, kn!fe, a single drop of bl00d Her chest throbs dully as she comes to life, gasping for air. What happened?...Where’s Winter? She has a vague memory of being jostled back and forth in the backseat of a van for what seemed like hours, in a kind of half-awake trance. But before that… Zara tries to stand up, but she can’t. She’s lying on the floor of a cold metal cell, her hands cuffed in front of her. The Lodge-oh crap. She hears the sound of footsteps growing closer to her cell and drags herself backwards, into the darkest corner. The door opens, rough hands grab her and drag her down the corridor. Zara screams as loud as she can, thrashing desperately in a futile attempt to escape. It’s useless. The guards were far too strong. The guards open a door at the end of the corridor and shove her forward, forcing her onto her knees. “Get out,” a raw male voice hisses. The guards trip over each other as they both scramble for the door. “Look at me,” the voice commands. Zara’s eyes flick upwards to a tall man with a beak-like nose and piercing eyes. She feels a shudder run through her body, but tries to ignore it. “You’re weak,” the man snarls. “I can see it in your eyes. A weak, cowardly little girl who thinks she’s stronger than me, who thinks she can protect her soulmate. You won’t last long, I’m sure of that.” “At least I’m not as ugly as you,” Zara snaps, wincing as she hears her voice tremble. Before she can even think, the man slams her against the wall. Her head spins blearily as she tries to process the knife pressed to her throat. “You have a smart mouth,” he sneers. “I get to decide whether you talk or not. I would cut out your tongue, but you still have information to share with me.” “I-won’t-t-tell you-anything!” Zara gasps, as he presses the knife harder, a drop of blood blooming on her neck. “You’re already breaking. How pathetic. What’s your name, therian?” “Zara.” she refuses to look him in the eyes. “Well, Zara, my name is Dawkins. But you can call me ‘master’ now.” “What-I’m not calling you that!” she hisses. Dawkins smiles eerily. “We’ll see about that.”

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