Second Debt (Indebted 3)

Evil eyes.

Horrendous eyes.

Eyes I never wanted to see again.

Daniel asked, “Have you given up your power, you wicked witch? Are you cured of the infection of magic?”

Jethro shoved him, cursing him beneath his breath.

Then, I fell again.

The men released their hold, shooing me from dryness and gifting me to a wet crypt.

As the water crashed over my head the third time, I gave up.

There was no point in fighting.

I was done.

I lost all track of time.

Up, down, up, down. Wet to dry and back again.

Every ducking I grew weaker…faded faster.

How many times did they raise me, only to drop me a few moments later? I believed Jethro when they said some torture sessions went on all day.

It felt as if this lasted forever.

I couldn’t move. I had no energy remaining.

Underwater again, my heartbeat raced until it splintered my ribs, cleaving me open, letting water pour down my throat and slosh into my lungs.

Delusions were no longer something to fear, but to be embraced. Delusions brought fantasies to life, soothing me, eradicating monsters from my world.

Down here, unicorns existed. Up there, only beasts.

I opened my mouth wider, slack-jawed and spaced.

Perhaps I had a gift I didn’t know of.

Perhaps I was a mermaid and could breathe water better than air.

Perhaps I could transform and swim far, far away from here.

I would try.

Anything was better than this.

The icy ache in my chest as the water filled me like a balloon was foreign and frightening.

But then it grew warmer.

And warmer.

It comforted me.

The pain left.

The panic receded.

I said goodbye to life.

Death slid over me with the sweetest kiss.

I smiled and sighed and gave into the deep.

SHE WAS DEAD.

I knew it.

I couldn’t explain how I knew.

But I did.

I’d done it.

I’d killed her.

She’d left me.

IT WAS OVER.

I existed in a fog of warm, comforting blackness. I didn’t have a conscience or stress or worries.

I was content.

This nether world had no stipulations or rules on how to be. I just was. With no thoughts corrupting me.

I liked it here.

I preferred it here.

I sank deeper and deeper into the billowing softness.

I belong here.

Then something tugged on my mind.

I swatted it away, curling into a ball, becoming invisible.

The blackness grew darker, wanting to keep me just as much as I wanted to keep it.

But the tug came again, harder, stronger.

I fought it.

But it was so persistent. It scrabbled at my mind, breaking my happy bond and dragging me unwillingly from the deep.

It wrecked my contentedness.

It broke my happiness.

No!

I turned feral.

You can’t take me.

I belong here. Not there.

Here I had a sense of infinity. I wasn’t just human, I was so much more.

I didn’t want to go.

I like it here.

Here where I don’t care or want or fear.

But whatever it was wouldn’t listen. It pulled me faster and faster from my sanctuary.

Blackness faded, becoming brighter and brighter.

I had no choice but to hurtle toward the light, breaking in two with sadness.

Then everything disintegrated.

The darkness. The comfort. The gentle kind of warmth.

It all vanished.

I froze, completely lost and vulnerable.

Where am I?

Something brilliant and bright shone into my eyes. I blinked in pain, seeing an echo of the deep yellow sun.

The clouds are gone.

I blinked again. Bringing the world I once knew into focus.

It made me wish I was blind.

With my eyesight came an unfurling of senses as my soul slipped back into a body I no longer wanted, breathing life into limbs that’d turned into a corpse.

There was something I was supposed to do in this world. Something extremely important.

The knowledge slammed into me with wet panic.

Breathe!

I couldn’t breathe.

A shadow crossed the blistering sun, pressing soft lips against mine. My nose was pinched then a huge gust of air whistled down my throat, bringing sweet, sweet oxygen.

My chest expanded then deflated.

Not enough.

More. Give me more.

The life-giver understood, once again filling me with breath along with forgiveness, sorrow, and regret.

I retched.

Strong hands flipped me onto my side, patting my back with solid thumps as I vomited up bucket loads of lake.

It hurt.

God, it hurt.

My lungs turned inside out with agony as the overstretched organ gave up trying to survive on water, holding out eager hands for air instead.

With air came life, and with life came the knowledge that I’d died.

Tears sprang to my eyes.

I’d died.

And I preferred it.

I sank into despair.

How had I given up so easily?

Then realization slammed into me of who I was and where.

I was Nila.

This was the Second Debt.

All around me stood Hawks.

Bastard, traitorous Hawks.

Then it didn’t matter anymore.

Pain enveloped me in a heavy cloak, squeezing me from all angles. Agony I’d never felt before battered me like a storm. Agony lived in my head, my heart, my bones, my blood.

Everything hurt.

Everything had died.

Coming alive was sheer torture, welcomed by a ring of devils.