Chapter TwentyMature

I awoke under the glare of a single light dangling from the ceiling, the shade around it a dark shade of brown and it was blanketed in a layer of dust. I did not recognise the room but it was empty except for the light, a chair, me and a single camera in the far corner, a little red light on the top flashing simultaneously... It was recording.

I rose from the chair and stumbled as my legs wobbled slightly. Step-by-step, I slowly made my way over to it. "Hello?" I called into it, expecting somebody to answer me through the lens. All of a sudden, the red light faded and another light turned on behind it. I looked up and caught my reflection in a mirror next to it.

What had happened to me? My right eye was supporting a dark, shining black eye and my lip was swollen with a pool of dry blood just underneath it. I lifted a finger to follow the bruising to see that my hands had been bound with tight and blood-soaked bandages. My neck twinged under the sudden strain it had been put under from standing up. I was not in my home... I had no idea where I was. The room was barren and every muscle in my body felt weak, I was light-headed and felt like I was going to collapse on the floor in a heap at any moment.

"We said there would be consequences..." A voice trembled through the emptiness of the room, bouncing off the walls and echoing sinisterly. There was no-one else present in the room with me. They were watching me? Had they done this to me? Blood had covered a great portion of my pale face with many of it falling into my hair, leaving crimson red streaks flowing through the blonde. My hand raced for my collar, which shot an electric pulse through my hand at my touch.

"What have I done to deserve this?" I called back, examining the deep, black bruises that were running down both of my arms. Was there any part of me unscathed? Every step was painful as I continued to walk around the room. Had I heard the voice in my head? Putting weight on my leg hurt. Resting my hand on my arm hurt. Eventually, even holding my head began to hurt.

I couldn't shake the mirror image from my head. The bruises were fresh and painful. But how had they appeared so fast and on such a large scale? There had been a few moments between when I was with my father to when I was here.

But it was longer then I thought.

I was still wandering around the barren room, looking for something, anything that would give me a clue as to where I was. I had reached another table and banged my knee of the table leg as I toppled into it. My eyes had yet to adjust to the darkness so I ran my hand along the table top to see if there was anything on it. There was. There was a bit of fabric just lying there. Was it there for a certain reason? There was another mirror behind this table and the ceiling light caught the glass and shone a small bit on light down by my hand.

The fabric I had felt was a bandage. But why? I looked up at the mirror and saw the small, deep wound that ran across my right cheek. What had I done to deserve this.

"Please. Tell me what I've done?" I begged into the shadows, chocking on my words as they were drowned by the overpowering darkness that surrounded me. The faint feeling came back and hit me hard as my knees buckled beneath me and I had to rely on the table to keep me upright. I walked at a diagonal, straight back to the middle of the room, under the light and in the chair. I was still clutching the bandage in my hand but I had nothing to keep it on my face with.

I began to plead again. "What have I done? Where are you? Who are you?" I shouted into the silence although my words were falling on death ears. "Why won't you answer me?" The tears began to fall uncontrollably. There had to be a reason. There had to be a reason why I wasn't being answered, why I had been abused and why I no longer knew of my location.

A reason as to why I was alone.

"Stone. You failed to complete your task like requested." The voice caught me as a shock and a lump formed in my throat. I tried to respond but my words tumbled over each other. They were lying. My task had been done. My father's demise had been met.

But... but.... I wasn't the one to kill him. It was Red that had lunged at him with the dagger. That was what this was about. None of this would of happened if I had killed him when I said I would.

I had brought this on myself.

The End

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