Maybe I’m selfish, but I kinda, you know, want to live?
She was so deep within her musings that she wasn’t sure if he’d actually answered her or not. It didn’t matter. It was bedtime, and she doubted her mind would shut the fuck up from thinking to let her sleep. She needed as much rest as she could, even if it was just to close her eyes and let them relax before they were forced to read more boring diaries and texts.
She headed to the door, and her heart shrivelled in her chest when he let out the tiniest whimper.
“Please don’t leave me alone.”
She halted as his plea instantly squeezed at her heart. A Duskwalker was begging for her to stay, and she didn’t think she’d ever heard something so depressing.
She bit her bottom lip so hard she feared she’d draw blood. “I’m sorry, but I have to,” she whispered back, glancing at him and his blue orbs.
She knocked on the door to be let out.
Ingram’s pulse raced with anxiety as he watched the female leave.
Her hair streaked with orange and red, and those light-blue eyes, had brought colour to the four grey walls that constantly surrounded him. Her pretty scent, finally free of that wretched underlying note, had been lung achingly sweet. Her voice had battled with his thoughts, gentling and calming him when he doubted anything else could.
And her touch underneath his jaw had been warm, soft, and pleasant. Under the strength of her holding his weighty head when he’d been lulled by her scent, her voice, and the sight of her, she had managed to bring back his normal purple hue.
Now it was a suffocating blue, highlighting just how anxious he was about being alone in the room – waiting for them to do more unpleasant things to him. His sight darted to every crack in the wall, like he was searching for a way out.
The walls were slowly closing in on him.
He closed his sight to escape it, wishing his mind would cease being so alert so he could finally sleep.
I am so tired.
“You are not alone,” came a feminine voice, echoey but warm.
His sight flashed open to blue, and he looked around as best as he could in his confinements.
The Witch Owl stood before him in her ghostly form.
His entire essence tried to leap forward so he could hug her. She was safe. She had protected him in the past, even if she was part of the reason Aleron was gone.
“Free me,” he whimpered. “I should have listened to you. I am sorry. Please free me.”
Her hovering, intangible form turned solid, and her bare feet slapped against the ground as she darted forward. She began pulling on the rope around his beak and head, and her scratching nails made his ear holes itch.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered quietly. “I tried to come sooner, but I lost one of your siblings. I had to chase down the Demon who stole them before I could come to you.”
He didn’t care that she hadn’t come sooner. She was here now, and that’s all that mattered. She was here to save him.
“Curses,” she spat as she stepped back. “The knot is too tight.”
She pulled out a dagger from somewhere underneath her feathery cloak and tried to jimmy him free. When that didn’t work, she attempted to just cut the rope free. She couldn’t.
“Curses,” she bit out again. “The enchantment those Anzuli put on these makes them impossible to cut without the right blade.”
She even used shadowy magic, tendrils of it forming around his kneeling form – to no avail.
“Cut off my head,” he pleaded.
The Witch Owl shook her head, eyeing the length of one of his binds. “The chains have locks, and they are enchanted as well. Currently, they are attached around your horns, and I could break you trying to get you free.”
“Fuck,” he snarled.
Her full lips pulled tight. “Why do all my children have naughty mouths?” She went to say more, then snapped her mouth closed when approaching footsteps and chatter could be heard.
The moment he shifted his sight to the door, the Witch Owl was gone.
Wren and two other Demonslayers entered.
“This is your subject, doctor,” she said, gesturing to him.
“I will try to find the key to your chains,” the Witch Owl whispered from somewhere within him. He realised she’d turned incorporeal to hide. “Please, just wait a little longer.”
The lightly tanned female doctor turned a set of brown eyes on him, and her stare was hard – and perhaps just as unfeeling as their leader.
“I see, the Duskwalker. No wonder you’ve been secretive about your actions as of late. What has already been done in terms of research?”
“Johnathan dissected him – twice,” Wren answered, and the doctor cracked her neck.
“I’ll need those notes before I begin. Was it just an autopsy?” The doctor came over to Ingram like she held not an ounce of fear or anxiety towards him. The other doctor had been frightened upon first seeing him, but she didn’t even bat an eyelid when he threatened her with a snarl. “Have you done a proper physical examination?”
“Not yet, no,” Wren confirmed.
The doctor tsked. “Of course Johnathan just opened him up. He was always so... crude.” She circled Ingram and touched the spikes on his back and the vertebrae of his spine with deep strokes. “I must admit, Wren. I’m disappointed you didn’t call for me first.”
“Johnathan was a higher-ranking member,” Wren answered in a bored tone.
“Yes, but not a better doctor. All I lack are years with the guild, not experience.” He jerked, pain flaring, when she scratched a scale from him. “Interesting. It seems to be made up of different animal parts. I’ll do a physical examination today while I wait for Johnathan’s notes. Once I read them over, I’ll see if they’re adequate or if I need to redo his work. Did he examine its brain?”
“No, not yet,” Wren admitted.
“Okay. I’ll do that last. I’ve heard a Duskwalker’s skull is near impossible to break. Let’s find out if that’s true, and maybe I can see what kind of intelligence it’s truly capable of in the process.”
Ingram’s sight morphed into a stark white. He was thankful none of them realised the depth of his fear, since his orbs often turned this colour.
Wren left after the doctor shooed her off, then she began looking him over. At least it wasn’t truly painful, as she only poked and prodded at different parts of his body.
But every moment with her revealed that she was far more thorough than the other doctor. Her hands were cold wherever she touched him, inspecting him from horns to tail tip.
Her eyes peered at him like he was an insect – which was odd, considering he would have towered over her tiny stature.
Sometimes the smallest Demons were the nastiest.
Okay. Okay... shit, Emerie thought as she navigated Zagros Fortress, trying her hardest to hide her frantic body language.
Since it was late afternoon, the sun shining through the hallway windows was bright. It would soon begin its descent over the horizon, but she wished it would hurry.