I yank the chain again, my body trembling with the effort, but it’s no use. The links are as thick as my wrist, disappearing into layers of unyielding permafrost beneath my feet.
“Please!” I shout, my voice hoarse and cracking. “Please...” The word slips out weaker than before, my strength fading. The cold is sucking the life from me, inch by inch. My fingers, pale and stiff, feel as foreign as the frozen walls around me. I can feel the darkness in my heart oozing out, the bitterness and resentment pulling me down into the depths of despair.
Maybe Celutok or Sandra saw what happened. Maybe they’re coming to rescue me right now. Or... Dracoth? A flicker of hope surges at the thought of him. God, I’d love his heat now—I need it. I can picture him now, tearing down this whole evil igloo and slaughtering that bastard Ignixis for this. Attacking like a red dragon, full of fire and blood. Despite the cold, it brings a smile to my face, swelling me with pride—my instrument of revenge.
But a worrying thought burrows into my mind, extinguishing my spark of hope.
I haven’t exactly treated Dracoth well, have I?
My heart sinks as I recall every cold word, every brush-off. Maybe...maybe he’s in on this.Maybe he’s already chosenSandra for the marriage thing, and I’ve been left here to freeze like a popsicle? Despite their differences, they were close, closer than I got.
Fuck, I’m screwed...
I stand shivering, blowing what little warmth I have into my hands, unable to even lie down on the frozen floor. Typical that I’d end up like this. Sandra’s probably being whisked off to some grand ceremony right now, nice and warm. Why does this always happen to me? I try to act right with people, and I’m always the one abandoned. It makes me sick.
The universe is so fucking unfair.
How did I even get here? What were the chances? Trillions to one? If my piece-of-shit parents hadn’t abandoned me, I would’ve never been on the Brooklyn Bridge to be abducted in the first place! What? Just because I’m not a doormat like Sandra doesn’t mean I should be treated like shit and thrown away like garbage by the people who are supposed to always care for me?
I swallow the lump in my throat, bitterness swirling in my chest. Maybe it’s better this way—freezing to death.
It’s not like anyone ever wanted me anyway.
Tears spill down my cheeks, but even those soon freeze, mocking my suffering as they turn to brittle crystals.
Let it come quick,I think, wishing for the end—the end of my pain, my fear, this awful cold.Death by fridge,what a way to go. At least I’ll leave a beautiful corpse, frozen in time.
Suddenly, soft scuffs echo through the icy chamber, sending a chill of a different kind through me. I strain to listen, my breath catching in my chest, unsure if salvation or something far worse is approaching. The sound isn’t quite footsteps—more like sliding scrapes against the frozen floor.
Then, faintly, I hear a grumble. “...could break your neck in here.”
Through the frigid haze coating my skin in tiny crystals of suffering, I catch sight of something black swishing across the light. It looks wrong, something so dark in a place of dazzling ice and reflected kaleidoscopic hues. I don’t need to see the glowing green eyes or the smirking yellow fangs to know who it is—Ignixis.
My captor steps from the tunnel, his form draped in shadows that make him seem more of a phantom than a living person. Hope drains from me like warmth from my skin, leaving only the weight of dread in its place.
“Hail,” he greets, his blackened face disturbingly neutral, even his usual insults are gone. And somehow, that terrifies me more. My eyes dart to the large wooden box he’s carrying, filled with God knows what horrors. My throat tightens, a hundred grotesque possibilities flooding my mind as I catch faint scrapes from within the box.
“Please... Demon,” my voice trembles, my arms shaking as I reach toward him in desperation. “Please, Ignixis, just let me go. I won’t tell anyone about this, I swear.” The words spill out, frantic, pleading.
He sets the box down with a groan, watching me with cold disinterest. “You won’t live to tell—” Ignixis begins, his tone flat, until his eyes flicker and widen, staring at my forehead. “You wear the blessing of Arawnoth?”
My trembling fingers brush the ash streaked across my forehead, shocked to find it warm. A desperate plan forms that if I appeal to his cult-like religion, he might let me go.
“Yeah... yeah, I love Arawnoth,” I stammer, the words tumbling out in a rush. “I never miss a ritual.”
Ignixis studies me with a frown, suspicion clouding his glowing eyes. “Did young Dracoth force you?”
So, they aren’t in cahoots!
The palest flicker of hope flutters in my chest. “No, no. He doesn’t go… just me,” I blurt out, wearing a quivering smile.
For the briefest moment, his gaze shifts downward, and in that tiny sliver of time, hope blooms—only to wither when he jerks upright, his face once again a mask of chilling neutrality and piercing intensity.
“Silence now, child.” He moves closer, looming over me like a wrinkled wraith who comes to claim my soul.
His claws extend in a sudden, lethal movement, glistening like shards of frost, and I gasp, recoiling in terror. The chains rattle and grow taut as I scramble backward, my breath freezing in the air between us.
“Please, Ignixis!” I plead, almost slipping on the ice in my haste to back away. “I’m sorry I ever called you those stupid names! Please, just let me go!”
