Chapter 57 - 55

I howl a cry out from the pain and my shuddering body falls on the floor, the markings hissing and burning along my skin, bleeding up and smearing the ground, the only few outside indications of the immeasurable pain I'm feeling from within at the moment since I cannot even scream for the pain has stiffened my throat and neck, an agony that overtakes my senses and makes me unable to do anything beyond suffering on the ground.

Like tiny fire ants they bite and bite and bite with their little mouths every nook and cranny of me, thepainoverflowingasifmagmafilledmyveins, unbearable, excruciating, making me almost able to hear their little paws itching their way about inside.

I do not know how long it takes for these waves of pain to pass, but it must not have been long since Asher is still standing against the wall when the agony lowers down enough for me to look around while giving raspy short breaths, only to find him staring down at me, cold eyes shining against the darkness, ignoring the blood smear that had reached his feet and the little drops that tainted his face, only adding to his sternness. 

I shiver under such intense analytical gaze.

Only for the next moment to get infuriated by such fearful reaction that I stand quickly to stare him in the eyes with my red shinning orbs, teeth bared and a loud growl resonating.

Yet none of us move… Until he takes a knife out.

The silver blade glints against the single electric light shining on the side as the cold metal shushes in the air and rests the tip on my neck, the difference in temperature from my ablaze skin making the area numb.

I growl louder as he presses the tip hard enough to draw blood, a single red line tracing the blade down until it reachs his fingers gripping at the weapon, to only then drip on the floor.

I feel a pressure at the back of my head, and by stubbornness I keep glaring daggers at him, however I know, and he does too, that this is all an act, a bluff, on my part.

And he has just proven it with his little show, for even with the blade so close to my neck I did not attack him.

Because I could not attack him, no matter how much I want to believe otherwise.

He takes the blade out and cleans it on his clothes, ignoring the blood on his hands and face, caring only for the sharpness of the blade, and without giving me a second thought, as if satisfied with what he got from the situation, he simply walks past me towards the entrance, closing the door on his way out.

At this point I'm too tired to feel anger at his dismissive behavior right out off the bat, but as I stay curled on the floor, holding my wrist to stop myself from shaking too much, I see myself once more left alone to ponder and get angry at myself and him.

Is a lot more fulfilling, to feel anger than panic, to be consumed by terror, for one may only result in me hurting others, while the last one… I'm the one getting hurt, by myself even.

That's why, free from the chains, my first reaction is not to cower in fear on the side, but to rush up the stairs and test the door out.

I reach out to twist it, the way I saw humans doing so far, but stop with my hand midair only centimeters away, a frown reminding me that I may not have any physical chains, but there is still some weight at the back of my mind from his last command.

'Behave.' How am I supposed to obey if I don't even understand what he is saying? Not that obeying is a possibility, of course, I'm not his pet or whatever he thinks me off.

What I wanted to know is what limits his command gave me, for there seems to be some sort of colligation with the Seiji word and the next one used.

Also, what's up with all this Seiji thing? Seiji Koshiro is what he called me the first time, called me… is that a name? Have he just given me a name? Strange, why would he do that out of nowhere? Or did it meant something that I'm not aware of? And worst of it all is what powers it holds over our situation to change a normal word to a command?

A command that, if disobeyed, results in a lot of pain on my end.

I've been thinking about the subject for a while, after all how could I not when I'm suffering from such strange effects until now?

I keep replaying it, back when we first meet, what made things turn out this way, how I chased him down the mountain, how I attacked him inside the building, what went wrong in all of that that we ended up like this?

I know where the place is, the strange ancient human construction that even time could not take the beauty away, only increase its mystery with webs and weeds.

Perhaps that place may have the solution to my problems, maybe it still has secrets waiting to be discovered… and perhaps it had some guilty over our situation as well.

And there is only one way to find out, by going there once more.

The only problem is… well, one of many is that I'm somehow bound to his orders and this place, but such knowledge does not stop me from trying to get out as I finally reach for the doorknob and turn it.

I was already prepared to pass the wooden barrier by force however, to my surprise, the door gives in and opens, not being locked from the beginning, making me narrow my eyes at it.

…What is up with this guy, to simply free me and even let the door open? Is he not afraid of me running away, or even breaking his stuff just for the sake of it?

The moment these thoughts roll in my mind a light illuminates the still dark door, and as I look down to discover the culprit I see the annoying markings showing themselves once more, not burning but making themselves known and, among the lines and traces of odd figures there is the scribble I saw on the outside once more, bigger than the others and in display, as if deliberately showing it to me, like a… warning.

… No way, that is it, isn't it? What I thought must count as not obeying the 'behave' command, so it shinned a warning at me.

I try it again, but this time I go up and take one of the chairs from the kitchen up and pretend to bring it down to smash it, only to have the markings shining brighter and hotter with each step I take into disobeying.

Once I put the chair down once more, however, the markings disappear without a trace.

Well fuck me, how am I supposed to escape from this situation now?

…What will be the end of me now…?

…I'm scared to admit that I'm terrified to find out.

And something tells me it won't be long until I discover what the future has in store for me.