XLIV. Puppetmaster

We fell into another place, another world as far as I knew. I landed on the ground with a heavy thud. I had no energy left. All my strength had left with Aeren.

I raised my eyes, prepared to face her ugly cave but I was met with something entirely different. It was a small cozy cottage.

Directly ahead of me was a small fireplace. On one side of the room was a rectangular wooden table with two chairs. On the other side was chair and stool. At the center was a nice rug.

I searched for a door and I found three. A man stepped through one of them. My heart sunk at the sight of him. I could not, would not, believe my own eyes.

Hes as real as can be, the witch laughed at my side, seeing my confusion and fear. I looked towards the man again. His dark hair, his features. The spitting image of the man who often starred in my nightmares.

Hoff

I was told that you teenagers really despise your teachers, it is in fact true, Zoladie chuckled. Yes, teenagers didnt have a history of having good relations with their high school teachers but this was different. Hed attacked me, nearly killed me.

How? I breathed. Ivan had killed him. I had watched him attack the vampire, ripping him to shreds. There was no chance that he had survived. That had been what I had told myself each night before bed. Hed dead. He cant harm you He was dead?

Sweet heart, you have no idea just what I am capable of. Again, came Zoladie, sickening smile.

She had brought him back from the dead. Resurrected him. I thought back to the words of the book on Zoladies power. It had spoken of her using spell to bring people back from the dead. I had doubted the truth of the book but now it was confirmed to me.

Why?

I dont believe in just killing my victims. Enacting revenge is more than just about the brutal, cruel murder. It must be done in accordance with the original injustice. Act for act. And first, you must suffer.

Now she addressed the man standing by the door, ordering him, take her to the other room. Make sure she doesnt leave.

The vampire did not hesitate. He grabbed my wrist with force. His touch was cold as ice, even colder than before. Our orbs met. His had changed. They lacked the red rings theyd had before. Now they were pure black and lifeless. I guessed that that was a part of being resurrected.

They say that the eyes are the windows to the soul, perhaps he had no soul now. Isnt that what death is? In a certain sense, death is losing ones soul to another life. Maybe he had lost his soul to the afterlife and this was simply his body. A cadaver. A puppet for Zoladie.

I was thrown into a room. It had one window, a bathroom, a bed and a lonely chair. As soon as I was inside, the door was locked.

My first thought was the window. It had no bars and I could easily fit through the small space.

I rushed to it, convinced that they had made the mistake of leaving it open and without bars. As soon as I touched it, an invisible glass formed and I could not reach out. I was blocked by a barrier I could not see.

The window itself could move through the barrier but I myself could not.

Another spell.

These spells would be the end of me.

***

Night came. There were no curtains so I watched as the forest gradually darkened around us.

I sat on the bed; my knees pulled up to my chest. My dress was damp from my tears and my coat lay on the other side of the room. The cold had set in and my skin was chilled to the touch. I scarcely cared.

All I wanted to do was cry and cry.

Being locked in a room, alone for hours brought out your deepest emotions. Suddenly my mind was playing back the last few weeks, thinking of all the decisions I had made, what I had done wrong.

It stung thinking of the fact that I had practically abandoned my father. No days passed that I did not think if what he was doing all alone at home. Hed been heartbroken when I left, he could not even say goodbye to me properly.

That may have been the last time I would see him.

I heaved heavily, thinking of him. Tears flowed down my cheeks. I was too worn out to simply wipe them away. I had been sitting for most of the day and yet I was beat. Most of this was because of the emotional turmoil I was in.

The fact that my captor would probably kill me hardly bothered me. My biggest worry was the way I had left things; with Ivan; with my father; with my mother. I did not fear the pain that awaited me as much as I dreaded the thought of my father realizing that I may never return.

The shaking of the door knob alarmed me. I scrambled out of the bed, standing, my back pressed against the wall. I wiped away my tears, unwilling to give Zoladie the satisfaction of seeing my miseryand my weakness.

I did not avert my eyes from the door for even a second, not wanting to be caught by surprise.

Hoff stepped in, in his hands, a tray of food. He set it on the bed, snarled at me and exited.

I released a breath of relief, seeing that my death was not coming that soon. It made no difference however. A few hours of life, more time in misery was not something I wanted too much.

I went to bed that night, what perhaps was my last night, listening to the distant howls that sounded so much like those I would hear every night outside my window back home. They now calmed me.