3- Because I Thought ‘How Bad Could It Be?’ and the Universe Laughed

OZ

I steel myself, one hand on the wall for balance, and make for the exit. Wherever I am, whatever town or realm this is, I need food, shelter—and information. The fae didn’t tell me how LONG I have to deal with this woman, but I have a feeling the Fae won’t just wait patiently. Exhausted beyond words, I stumble out of the room and into a dark hallway. In my normal form, I could see fine in this. But with these dulled down human-like eyes? I can barely see a thing. How DO humans get by like this? I feel half blind. The air is thick with dust and the scent of old stone, and my footsteps echo softly in the silence. At the far end I find a door. It’s weathered and dirty, it has a glass window in the top half of it, but it’s so dirty I can’t see through it anyway. I push the door open and step out into the night. Cool air hits my face like a balm. I breathe in deeply, letting it chase away the lingering sickly sweet smell of the fae. I take a few steps outside. Damnit, the ground is damp. How uncomfortable. I take it back, the air isn’t cool, it’s cold. I really wish I had shoes, and maybe a jacket or something… I look back at the building to try to work out where I am. To give me some indication of what’s going on. It seems like I’m in an actual city or town, not the middle of nowhere at least, so that’s something. The sign on the building is faded. It can’t read it at all except for the letter ‘b’ the rest of the sign is covered up by a large, bold sticker that says ‘for lease’ on it. So I guess he basically just summoned me in some random building that is just not currently in use. Yeah… I have no idea what to do. My head hurts and I feel like crap. I can’t focus at all. Food. I need food. That should help… Probably. I don’t know how I’m going to pay for it, and right now, I don’t give a damn. I’m starving. My head spins slightly as I take my first steps down the cracked pavement, eyes adjusting to the faint glow of street lamps in the distance. I’ll figure something out. I always do.

I lift a hand to push hair from my face and freeze. My arm is marked. From my wrist all the way up to my elbow theres what looks like a tattoo. It has twisting, black-green patterns snaking around my arm like vines, thorns protruding from the design that honestly look like they would pierce my skin if they could. I yank up the sleeve on my other arm. Same markings. Completely identical. Shit. These must be the two spells the fae cast on me, the binding that locks away my gateing abilities and the one preventing me from using someone else’s portal. Just brilliant. Bastard. The markings might even look cool if it weren’t for the fact that they’re stopping me from going home. I grit my teeth. If I only knew who he was, I’d already be planning my revenge. A fae’s spells can’t last if they’re dead. Maybe that blindfold wasn’t just meant to protect him from my eyes. It did a pretty damn good job of hiding his identity too. I keep walking while I dry to ignore the uncomfortable cold, wet and dirty feeling of the ground beneath my bare feet. There is one bright side here… At least, he didn’t try to strike a deal. Demonic bargains are no joke, sacred and binding, far beyond the reach of either side’s regret. If he’d forced me into one of those, I’d be his, in a way that even his death wouldn’t break. I guess that’s a risk he wasn’t willing to take. He gave me an order, not a contract. It’s a fine line, but it means I still have my will. My mind. My freedom. That’s something… Right? I eventually find my way out of the side street I’m walking down. It ends in a wider road, and I pause. It looks like I’m not as far from a populated area as I thought. It’s late, but tall buildings loom around me, neon lights shine weakly against the dark. But it’s still quiet. Too quiet. The bars are dark, their doors shut, their windows empty. It must be much later in the evening than I thought. I sigh and keep walking. Maybe there’s a twenty four hour diner or cafe around here somewhere. Something greasy and hot and filling. Or even some shoddy convenience store. I don’t care what it is. Just something to shut up the snarling emptiness in my gut. The streetlights are flickering overhead and my footsteps feel too loud in the silence. My tail twitches uncomfortably beneath my shirt, but I ignore it. I’m too tired to think straight. Too tired to notice how quiet it really is. Too tired to hear the footsteps behind me… And WAY too tired to react until it’s far too late. Something slams into the back of my skull, hard, fast, and merciless. Pain flares white hot, blooming through my vision as the world tilts sideways. The pavement rushes up to meet me, and then… Darkness.

I wake to the smell of damp and mold in the air. I force my eyes open and weird spots of colour blur my vision like I’ve been staring at the sun or something. Eventually my vision clears enough for me to look around. The room I’m in is small, damp, and reeks of neglect. Peeling paint clings to crumbling concrete walls, and a single, flickering lightbulb buzzes overhead. Actually, the buzzing sound is grating on my nerves and I’ve only just woken up. I hope I’m not stuck here for too long… I try to move and immediately regret it. My shoulders scream in protest, and I realise my arms are twisted uncomfortably behind my back, wrists locked in heavy metal cuffs. There’s a weight around my neck. I glance down as far as I can and spot the dull gleam of a metal collar, thick and cold against my skin. A short chain runs from the collar to a steel bolt that is firmly attached to the wall. Functional, cruel. And designed for someone, or something strong. This setup was definitely not made to hold a human. A shiver runs down my spine. I would be more powerful in my natural form, but I don’t have the strength to change back. Whatever spell the fae used to summon me, it drained me dry. Not to mention I’m cold, starving and I took a nasty blow to the head. I’m running on fumes now, barely able to sit up, let alone return to full form. What the hell is going on?

Muffled voices drift in from beyond the door. Laughter. The clatter of metal and footsteps. Light sneaks in from the gap beneath the doorframe, thin and wavering. Then the hinges groan, and the door swings open, the room floods with blinding white light, burning into my eyes like a blade. As much as I want to see who is coming in and prepare for what’s coming in, I can’t help myself. I squeeze my eyes shut against the glare, my head pounding harder with every heartbeat. The pain from the original blow to my skull has tripled in intensity, leaving me dizzy and disoriented. I feel like someone took a sledgehammer to my brain. Hell, maybe they did. I force myself to crack my eyes open. Two figures step into the room. I can’t see well but they’re men, judging by their size and scent. And human ones at that. They’re wearing plain clothes. No uniforms, no badges, no symbols. Just dark jackets, gloves, and easygoing expressions. I get the impression that whatever they’re doing here, they’ve done it before. A lot. They don’t speak to me. Don’t ask questions. They don’t even check if I’m conscious or coherent. They just move with practiced efficiency, setting down a duffel bag between them and unzipping it. I watch as one of them pulls out something long and metallic. My blood runs cold. It’s a syringe and it’s huge. Industrial, almost. The kind of thing you’d expect to see in a twisted laboratory or a horror movie, not in the hands of some thug. The needle gleams under the flickering overhead light. Shit. That thing is thick enough to punch through armor, let alone skin. Whatever they’re planning, I doubt that it bodes well for me. Despite the pain caused by the light, my eyes widen, panic flaring deep in my chest. Nope. No, no, no. I am so totally screwed. I tug at the cuffs behind me, twisting my wrists in a useless effort to break myself free, but they’re too strong and too tight. My skin burns against the cold metal. The chain around my neck rattles as I shift, but the bolt in the wall doesn’t even budge. I’m stuck. Completely helpless and at their mercy. And whatever’s in that syringe? I REALLY don’t want to find out. Worst. Day. Ever.