Chapter 0.1

Automobile pine air fresheners; I've always hated them. And now, sitting in this hot vehicle, I realized that I don't hate them. I loathe them. What I hate in the absence of automobile pine air fresheners, are strangers. If it hadn't been for strangers, I wouldn't be in this stupid, bloody, terrifying situation. Sitting in the back of a strange vehicle with an itchy strip of dark cloth tied over my eyes and a kind of cloth bag over my head, fixed startlingly tight around my neck. My wrists and ankles bond in scratchy rope, also too tight. Now is where I wonder, why me? But then I think, why me is a stupid question. People are people, and if these men are like any man, it doesn't matter if it's me or any other woman. So why me? No particular reason, except that I'm young and female.

        And now this is where I wonder something else. If that is what they had wanted me for, why was I bound and blindfolded and in the back of a stinky car, rather than some dark bedroom? That baffled me. And where were we going?

        "Where are we going?" My voice came out hoarse from silence, small and scared, when I'd been going for confident and maybe imposing. The response was immediate.
        "Shut up," said one of the captors moodily. I was startled by the youth in his voice, also by the bitterness and anger. I had expected someone older, maybe rougher and snider. But the voice I heard was soft and maybe in its later teens.
        "Where are we going?" I spoke again, stronger this time.
        "I said, shut up," growled the voice again. Angrier.
        "Tell me where you're taking me."
        "Gag her." This time he wasn't speaking to me.

        I felt movement beside me and fingers grasp the knot at the back of my neck and could feel slender fingers playing with the knot until it came loose and the bag was yanked off my head. I gasped in the air like a drowning man, no longer stifled by the sack. But as soon as I had opened my mouth, another strip of itchy fabric was pulled over my mouth and tied tightly behind my head.

        "There, done. Are we almost there?" asked a second voice; assumably the man who had just gagged me. He too sounded young, though still years ahead of the man � boy?- who had spoken previously. And this person was grouchy, but not angry, nor bitter. Just grouchy.
        "Almost," spoke the first voice.

        I stayed quiet now, not just because I was gagged, but because I was baffled, and frustrated with not being able to see my surroundings. The vehicle was quiet, suggesting it might be a newer model. Both men were quiet. How old could they be? The bitter one was driving and the grouchy one was beside me, as far as I could tell. Why was the younger one driving?

        The short remainder of the trip was quiet. I was busy, trying to figure out how to escape this situation and find a patch of unpoisoned air to breathe. Both guys were quiet. The vehicle hummed along a presumably flat road. I didn't start to feel the panic until I felt the turn of the car and the smooth humming turned into the crunch and grind of gravel. My stomach lurched, my mouth went dry and my palms became sweaty. Maybe they were what I thought they were. Maybe they just preferred to clean up thoroughly after. Leave no one to talk, no one to expose whoever they were. I began to feel ill.

        The vehicle jumped over an uneven pitch in the road and it lurched. I lost the balance I had and fell sideways into the man beside me. His hands caught my arms and put me back up. His grip was strong, but his fingers were thin. And he was cool to the touch, like he'd been out in the cool. But the cabin of the vehicle was sweltering hot. How could that be possible? How many people had hands that cold in an area so warm? His fingers left my skin and I remained upright, my yelp of surprise muffled when the vehicle lurched again, more violently this time.
        
        Again, the man beside me broke my fall. His fingers were now soft, covered in fabric. He must have slipped on gloves, which means, he knew he was unnaturally cool. My head was starting to pound from all this confusion, but right now, I had more pressing problems.
        We were getting farther from where we had been and where I had known the area. I was still bound, blindfolded and gagged in the back of a vehicle, handled by two strange young men who could have any number of reasons. And I was starting to panic. I squirmed quickly out of the long fingered grasp and shimmied as far away as I could, when the car skipped over a bump and I fell sideways. Now I just felt ridiculous, not like it mattered at that point.

        "What's she doing!?" said the driver, frustrated. Obviously, my loose weight was shifting the vehicle around on the already terrible road.
        "I think she's finally panicking," he said sarcastically, leaning over and grabbing my arms again, pulling me over.
        I didn't like that. Not one bit. I yelped again, straining against his hands.
        "Calm down! We aren't going to hurt you!" he said, pulling me back again. Something in his voice made me stop; it was almost a plea. I did stop struggling, though there wasn't too high a risk of calming down. My dry mouth was starting to taste like bile. Not that it would be totally absurd if I threw up now, but with a gag? That would be none too pleasant. So I struggled some deep breaths, jerking against this guys grip. For someone with such long, slim fingers, he was unnaturally strong.
        Finally the car slowed and stopped and I felt the hands on my shoulders, pull me back and gently turn me. Gentle? These guys were kidnappers! Why was he being gentle? I was baffled and not only panicking, but getting pissed off. Those same hands snaked around my shoulders and under my knees and lifted me up. I immediately started struggling, kicking my legs and twisting my torso hard.
        His arms closed tighter around my, restricting my movement. The car door slammed shut; probably the drivers door.
        "D****t, hold her still for a minute," said the driver.
        "Oh, don't do that."
        "She needs her alive. It doesn't mean she has to be conscious the moment she gets here."
        "But-"
        I felt my wrists be seized, then the sharp sensation of a needle being jabbed into my left wrist. I struggled hard, jerking my wrists back. I could feel whatever I'd been injected with taking effect, making my muscles stiff and sluggish, my brain slowly fading into darkness.

        When I awoke, I found myself no longer tied and tucked neatly into a small, surprisingly soft bed, wrapped in comfy blankets. I was tempted to drift back into sleep, being as nice and comfy as I was. But in whatever situation I was in, I wasn't about to give my captors another chance to do anything to me.
        I flung off the covers and sat up too fast. I had to stop for a few long, agonizing moments for my lightheadedness to pass. Once it did, I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up slowly, for fear of making any noise. So far, so good. The floor didn't creak. I stepped forward - still no creak. Another step - still no creak. I took another step, almost not believing my luck and discovered that my foot would come no further. I looked down, again, not believing my luck and how bad it had gone, to find my ankle chained to the bed post.
        "No!" I gasped, crouching and jerking uselessly on the cold metal. Why hadn't I realized earlier? How stupid could I be?
        "Are you a great actor, or just really stupid?" came a bemused voice, followed by a movement in the shadows. I jumped and stared at the person who had spoken. I recognized the voice immediately though - it was the driver of the kidnappers car. Half of his face was still in shadows, but I could make out the sharpness of his features, the sweep of his dark hair in front of his eyes. He was tall, and lean, from what I could see of his silhouette.
        I didn't appreciate being mocked. Frowning, I stood straight again.
        "Neither," I spoke calmly, narrowing my eyes at him.
        He laughed. Again, mocking me. I felt a glimmer of anger, but didn't show it. He strode forward, towards me. I tensed up as he reached towards my face; the tips of his fingers brushed against my chin and he turned my face to both sides, frowning.
        "What? Do you have a specific description for the girls you kidnap, or do you just want to remember what I look like alive?" I said boldly, speaking before I thought. His hand dropped from my face and I still had to look up at him - which felt like a personal blow to my pride. A muscle jumped in his jaw. There was no appreciation for my attempt at sarcasm.
        "Stupid. If I was going to rape and kill you, do you honestly think I would drag you all the way out here to do it? Do you think I would drug you, if that was my intention?" he said evenly, but the anger in his voice scared me. I had never heard that kind of rage, contained to just a voice. I had never seen so much rage in someone so young. In the light, he only appeared to be seventeen or eighteen. Barely older than I was.
        "Every sicko has his own ideals," I snapped back, angrily. "Are the chains-" I rattled the chains around my ankle,- "part of your fantasy too?"
        His fingers clenched and his face flushed. I could see I had crossed a line.
        "No. Note, over the next while, how your clothes will remain on you the entire time you are here. They will only leave you, when you remove them." His voice was calm, a very scary calm. His eyes bored into me.
        I crossed my arms. "Fine. Then why kidnap me? Who are you, anyways?"
        "Caleb. Now go back to bed." he said, as he turned and left the room, leaving me with no time to respond. I didn't want to go back to bed, I told myself. I didn't want to bend to the will of this Caleb the kidnapper. But it was cold outside of the covers, as I was only wearing a tank top and some jeans. After pacing back and forth for a while, I crawled back onto the bed with a defeated sigh. I stared around the room as I drifted back to sleep.
        Directly beside the bed was a slim side table with a beaded, hook shaped lamp. The wood was deeply coloured and the lamp spilled warm yellow light. Oddly enough, the light didn't illuminate much. I didn't know how big or small this room might be, or how many doors or windows there were. I wondered vaguely how long I had been unconscious, but decided it didn't matter as I faded into sleep again.
        I didn't dream those hours that I slept, but when I awoke again, the room was flooded with light. I blinked blindly into the light, raising a hand to shield my eyes. So there were windows. It didn't make the room much more inviting though. Once my eyes adjusted, I could see that the walls were wooden and rotting and the floor was just as bad, but it was layered and spotted with rugs in horrible tones of purple and burgundy.
        "Looks like a big scabbed bruise..." I mumbled to myself and rubbing my eyes.
        "That's what I said," responded a voice and, once again, I jumped out of my skin and looked around wildly for the owner of that familiar voice. This was the other guy from the car, the one with cold hands. He was sitting at the end of the bed, in a shadowed area of the room.
        "Holy sh- What is it with you two!?" I snapped, throwing my pillow at him. "Both of you - Knock or something!"
        He caught the pillow and tossed it lightly back to me, chuckling. But unlike Caleb, he was smiling and looked at least a little... sympathetic? What kind of kidnappers were these guys?
        "Hey there. What is what with who two?" he asked brightly. "Oh, the kidnaping you and all that? Well, you see-"
        "That's not what I was talking about, but yes, I plan on making you explain. I mean the hiding in the shadows like vampires. Ever heard of knocking?" I snapped, though I could barely contain the small smile pressing against the inside of my lips. This guy just brightened up the room. Even his eyes were brightly coloured - bright yellow. I paused, frowning slightly, before wiggling out of the covers and crawling over. Ignoring his personal space entirely, I put on hand on his chin, holding his face still, and used the index finger and thumb of the other hand to open his eye more. His eyes were, indeed, yellow. I noted too, he had long, dark lashes. The kind my mother would have killed for and probably did.
        I felt the upturn of his lips against my palm and quickly pulled my hands away, blushing slightly.
        "Yes, they're yellow. No, I'm not wearing contacts." he laughed. He brushed his hair out of his face and I noticed two things - his hair was long and black, and there were swirling tattoos covering almost half of his face. They appeared tribal or oriental styled, but ... absolutely nothing like them. He seemed to notice my scrutiny. "Yes, my hair is long. No, that's not a tattoo," he added casually.
        "Not tattoos?" I frowned, dumbfounded. I could have sworn it was tattooed. But looking again, I realized - the lines and edges were too clear and too bold. Not even new tattoos looked like that. A real tattoo was fuzzy where the ink bled through the skin and the colour was never, ever that strong. Unless you were super pale, but this guy was not. His skin was a warm, light brown.
        "Nope. Hungry?" He offered no explanation for the markings but offered me an over-lap tray that I hadn't noticed earlier, laden with eggs, fruit and toast. I opened my mouth to say I wasn't hungry (it could be laced with something) and my stomach spoke first, growling hungrily. I hugged my stomach and with a sideways glare at the wall beside me.
        He promptly placed the tray before me with a flourish of a long fingered hand. With a suspicious look, I picked up an apple slice and examined it carefully. Finally, I ate it. It tasted good. I ate some eggs and a piece of toast uncomfortably, with the guy watching me.
        "... So why did you bring me here?" I asked after swallowing the toast.
        He glanced around quickly, like he was checking for other people, before speaking quietly. "To see Miss Oris."
        "Who?"
        "Miss Oris. She's an oracle and says she needs to talk to you - in person, hence the kidnaping." He stared at me like I should know what he was talking about. Couldn't this woman just phoned me, or contacted me at school or something? And an oracle? Was claiming to by a psychic too much of a giveaway for con people nowadays?
        "And she couldn't stop by my house or something, why?" I asked crossly.
        "...I'll let her explain that." he said, frowning slightly. "I brought you clean clothes." He pointed to the neat pile of clothes sitting on the table next to her.
        "..." I was quiet for a long moment before gently picking up the stack of clothes. I flipped through the tags - they were all my size. How could they know that? Who were they? Maybe this Miss Oris was going to kill me and Caleb and this guy had no idea? My thoughts were starting to run wild. Panic clenched my gut and I wished I had ignored my stomach and said that I wasn't hungry. I felt ill. Apparently it showed.
        "Are you okay?" the guy asked, standing up unsurely.
        I took a deep breath. "Who are you?"
        "Josiah."
        "When am I supposed to talk to Miss Oris?"
        "As soon as possible."
        I swallowed nervously. I was supposed to go see this woman now? And she could be out to kill me? I slowly stood, picking up the stack of clothes. "Could you undo the chain please? So I can change my pants?" I asked quietly, pulling off my shirt and pulling on the black T-shirt on over my bra. Josiah retrieved a small key ring out of his pocket and bent down to undo the manacle around my sore ankle. I was tempted to kick him in the face while he was bent down. If it was Caleb, I might have. But at least Josiah was kind of nice to me. So I didn't and he politely turned around while I changed my pants. The new ones were a little too long and there is no way it's because I'm short.
        "Okay, you can turn around. I'm decent." I said, flattening out my shirt.
        "Well, don't you look nice. I'm amazed you didn't try to run." He laughed, but there was a nervous edge to the laugh. Like he was scared.
        "Me too," I admitted, furrowing my brow.
        He placed a hand on my shoulder and I immediately tensed up at his touch. He took care to make sure he only touched the fabric. "Let's go see Miss Oris."
        My stomach and heart both managed to squirm into my throat. I could barely breathe as Josiah led me out of the room and into a tiny hallway. I would have started sweating, but it was way to cold for that. We passed two or three doors, one of which, I noticed, included the sleeping figure of Caleb sprawled out on an old couch.
        Then I was being, a little forcefully, guided into another room. But this room didn't resemble anything in the other rooms, or the hall. This room was cleanly furbished, with clean white walls and dark hardwood floors. A large bookshelf occupied one of the walls, lined with dusty books. In the middle of the room stood a large mahogany desk on which rested a clear, glass globe, standing on what looked like a dragons foot. Behind the desk, facing away from them stood a tall, blonde woman. She almost breathed intimidation. The way she stood, her shoulders back, neck straight, chin up. She rapped her long-nailed fingers on the table. As I entered, she turned around and smiled at me. But it was not a kind smile and a chill ran through me.
        "Why hello there, sleepy head," she greeted politely. Her voice was cold and clear, somehow remorseless. "How are we this morning?"
        "I've been better," I returned, crossing my arms. I wouldn't let her see that she was intimidating me.
        "I'm sorry to hear Joey and Cal haven't taken better care of our guest."
        "You mean hostage?"
        "Guest," she corrected me hostilely. "My name is Miss Oris. And I need to speak with you."
        "We're speaking now, aren't we? Ever heard of a phone? I'm still in school," I said rudely.
        "This is too important for just a phone call, Adena. How long have you been taking your prescription?"
        That startled me. How had she known that I was supposed to be on prescribed medication? I hadn't said a thing to Caleb or Josiah, never mentioned it in the vehicle, it wasn't with me. See, I was diagnosed with depersonalization disorder a few years ago when I beat up another girl from my school, but I didn't mean to. My body did it on it's own. I can't fight like that. I can't cuss like that either; half the words that flew out of my mouth that day, I had never heard any of them. I remained silent.
        "Tsk, tsk. It's important to keep up with your medication." Miss Oris chided me.
        Blood pounded in my ears; she had no right to openly blab about my issues. Soon she would be blathering about my sociopath, murderer mother, dead father, w***e sister and workaholic foster family. How much did this woman know about my life and how?
        "I was too busy trying not to get kidnaped to remember to grab them, I think," I snapped angrily.
        "Such a short temper. Please. Take a seat," She said, leaning onto her fingers on her desk. I sat angrily, slouching and crossing one leg over the other. "You were diagnosed with depersonalization disorder, yes?" It wasn't a question. "What if I told you that it was a miss diagnosis?"
        I stared. Was she serious? She had gotten me kidnaped because she wanted to doubt my doctors? A phone call would have sufficed, I believe. Or a letter. I stifled a laugh.
        "And the medication prescribed keeps me in check because they don't work?" I asked.
        She didn't appreciate my humor, it seemed. A line formed between her brows. She slowly came around the table and leaned against the side of the table facing me.
        "Adena. There is nothing wrong with your mental state. It's not a disconnection with reality- It's an interruption," she said seriously.
        I stared. "What?"
        "An interruption between you and reality is what cause your 'disorder'. Do you believe in the existence of souls?"
        "An interruption? What? Kinda, I guess." The words came out in a rush. Why did this have to be so confusing? What the hell did she mean?
        Josiah stayed quietly by the door, but as I glanced back at him, I caught him staring at me curiously, like how someone looks at that new animal at the zoo. He, instead of looking away, raised an eyebrow at me. How was I supposed to know anything about this?
        "Josiah, could you please retrieve Miss Revair's prescription from town?" Miss Oris wasn't speaking to me, but the sound of her voice made me jump. No matter how much I anticipated her voice, it always surprised me. She was so quiet, almost totally silent between speaking. I looked back at her- she appeared to be writing a note in a messy scrawl. She's forging a prescription, I realized. Even the pen made not a sound. She tore off the page and handed it to Josiah as he stepped forward to take it. He was frowning, but left the room without hesitation or question.
        Miss Oris turned back to me, watching my face closely. Her eyes were grey, like the reflection of a cloudy sky in a pond. But I doubted a pond could ever be that intense.
        "Adena Revair," she said clearly, nothing kind or gentle in her voice, like a blade of ice.
        I started at the sound of my name. Once again, my thoughts started to run wild. It was just her and I in the room now. She could kill me and drag out the body before Josiah returned from town, or Caleb woke. I didn't think I could scream right now anyway; my heart was pounding in my throat.
        "You are not an average sixteen year old girl. You are not average by any means. Your body," she said, gesturing towards me, "is not connected to your soul."
        I blinked. "What are you talking about?" I growled. I didn't appreciate any of this.
        "I'm talking about all those times when you did something- but there was no control on your part. What you said wasn't yours, what you did wasn't you."
        That struck too close to home. I was starting to panic. I rose from my seat, backing up slightly. "How do you know any of this - my name, my disorder?"
        "That's not important now-"
        "Yes, it is!" I yelled. I don't know why I yelled that. My fingers curled painfully into my palm.
        She stared at me for a moment. "Calm down, Adena. I'll explain when you calm down," she said slowly.
        I drew a deep breathe. What was wrong with me? I slid back into the chair, wrapping my fingers tightly around the arms of the chair.
        "We found you through your doctor. Don't worry, his records were considerably secure. We hacked them. You were in the records and the only one that fit the description of what we were looking for." she said quickly.
        "What exactly were you looking for?"
        "Someone with a disconnected soul." The woman pulled around a second chair and sat, directly in front of me. "You must listen to me, Adena. You are going to be in extreme danger very, very soon-"
        The door slammed open, and both of us jumped, me spinning around to see. It was Caleb, stalking across the room towards the desk. His facial expression was a controlled kind of calm, but there was a lack of colour in his skin and something in his eyes that made my stomach twist nervously. Miss Oris stood, frowning.
        "Caleb, what is it?" she asked urgently.
        The dark haired teen rounded the desk and placed his fingertips on the crystal globe and spun it around to face us. It was immediately filled with a dull fog, but Miss Oris's face drained of colour.
        "No! It's too soon!" she whispered, putting both hands on either side of the globe. She studied it closely, looking more and more afraid.
        I stared between her horror filled face and his pale, wild eyed expression. What was going on? I stood unsteadily and both turned towards me. Panic numbed me and I couldn't move. They exchanged meaningful glances and Caleb rounded the desk, jerking open a drawer. I couldn't see what he was doing, but next thing I knew, Miss Oris was behind me, holding onto my arms tightly.
        "L-Let go. What are you doing?" I breathed, jerking against her grip. I would bruise later, I knew. Her grip was extremely tight, way tighter than they should be for such thin fingers.
        Caleb came back around, lips pressed in a thin line. There was a limp, white clothe in his hand. Chloroform, no doubt. They were going to knock me out again!
        I jerked harder, thrashing in her grip. I shook my head wildly, making sure Caleb couldn't press the clothe over my face. He stood calmly before me while I flailed and kicked. Eventually, I think, my moving weight became too much and Miss Oris's grip loosened and I broke free of it. Landing cat-like on the floor, I darted out around her and made a break for the door. I almost tripped over my own feet, my brain fogged by fear.
        I did trip, though and was caught by my arms. It must have been Caleb, because the fingers on my bare arms were warm and accurately strong.
        "Tell her, d****t!" He growled at Miss Oris.
        "Bu-"
        "Tell her!" This time he yelled and she appeared in front of me.
        "Adena, I need you to listen to me, and listen closely. You are a demon host. The disconnection between your soul and your body leaves room for bodyless demons to possess you," she said quickly.
        I stared at her, panting, confused. A demon host? Demons? What the hell was going on? Before I could process anything more, a damp cloth was pressed over my mouth and nose and everything turned black.

Reviews

[Adessa]

Oh my. I need to do some serious editing. '^_^