~Alaya
The process is simple.
Sinful strides around me, sliding a needle into the top of the small bottle. At least he has chosen a more pleasant way to take my life, considering how little he actually feels for me. We have a plan, which so far, is going smoother than I thought it would.
I tore my mind to pieces last night, as I lay beside Asher, hating myself. I’m sure one day he will understand why I’m doing this. Even if it means risking my life, it means saving another.
At least I have a chance of surviving. If Sinful goes along with the plan…
“Are you sure you are ready for this?” Sinful asks, pausing to stand directly in front of me. I glared up at him, knowing why he is asking this. Already, I’m tied down to this chair, ready to have my soul completely taken from me, and sent away to a prison up in the Moon. Sinful hasn’t explained anything other than that to me. He said the surprise and suspense makes it the best part.
“You could always forget about the sacrifice and let both Aspen and I live,” I say, watching him raise his eyebrows speculatively.
He smirks. “I wouldn’t want the Moon to think I’m not doing my job. I stated that I would sacrifice fourteen souls this fortnight. I must do my job, Alaya”
I slump back in the seat, anticipating that as an answer. He cares more about his obligations than me, however, that makes sense, even though he agreed to this plan when he didn’t need to. All the murderers and criminals who he sacrifices to the Moon are hardly anything on him. Sinful standing in front of me is the definition of pure evil.
How did he get me to fall for him?
“Any other words of advice?” I ask, genuinely hopeful that he would share something with me. He’s been up to the Moon and I haven’t. I’m not even sure if the Moon is just a place, a person or a completely different alternate reality.
“You shouldn’t be up there long enough to need advice,” he comments, pulling the syringe out of the bottle to inspect the tip of the needle.
My stomach turns looking at the medicine that will kill me. Even with the words of comfort he just offered in the most clinical of ways, the dark shadow looming over me does not offer any break. That needle will a fast acting poison which will hopefully knock me out straight away. Sinful promised it would be painful.
I’m not about to believe it until I’ve experienced it myself.
“I’m trusting you,” I say softly, as Sinful crouches down beside me, holding my arm out, looking for a vein. “I hope I’m not making a mistake.”
Sinful makes a strange noise from his throat. “I hope so too.”
I breathe in deeply, wanting to say something to counteract his statement, however, he carelessly slides the needle under my skin, making me flinch. His grip is like a vice, keeping me still as he presses the poison down into my vein, leaving a disturbing blue trail along with it.
“When should I tell Asher about your absence?” Sinful asks. I didn’t think about that, and right now is not the best time to decide. Right now, he assumes I’m swimming, while he is out visiting a nearby village in Sinful’s territory.
“As soon as possible,” I say through a grimace, feeling him extract the needle from my skin.
The wave of poison hit me square in the back of my head, reaching right to the top before it took away all the feeling in my limbs, filling my ears with static noise and my vision with bright colours. Either there is no pain to be felt, or my brain isn’t capable of comprehending that right now.
I see the shadow of Sinful in my deranged vision, however, it disappears as my head rolls back. For one last moment, I wonder what happens when he takes my soul and sends it away, before my mind failed to understand anything but darkness, and seconds later, I let it consume me.
***
I woke from a dream straight into a nightmare.
I’m being jostled away quite violently, pulled up to my feet before I realised they even existed. My eyes remained closed, feeling thin, tight fingers gripping my bicep, dragging me in a direction I can’t comprehend.
As my eyes open, I’m in a dark, narrow hallway, so dim, I hardly see anything. Sound seeps into my ears slowly, surrounding me with voices; moaning, groaning and begging in strange languages. When I look to my left, and to my right, I realise why.
I’m in a prison.
Being jerked to a stop, I see my cell. I don’t have to be told to know what is happening. This is my perpetual listening place for committing a crime no mortal could handle. This is my punishment for… nothing.
I’m pushed in face first, the mark on my neck burning. I land on hard concrete, left with only a sliver in the tiniest of cells. Already, this is torture.
But I’m here. I’m on the Moon, or in it, or near it. I’m still unsure on how it works.
When I turn to see who had dragged me so ruthlessly here, I can see nothing but a dark hood, no face, dark leather gloves and some kind of foreign outfit. If only I could see their eyes, see the way they feel about their job, or if they are even a real person. Right now, I’m not even sure if I’m still me. When I look down, I see my grimy hands, but what if this is just an illusion.
The hooded figure strolls away, lost in the sound of despair and darkness. Just hearing the pain shared by everyone in these cells seeps right to my heart.
At least in my mind, I’m still me.
I scope out my cell first on just my hands and knees. I find nothing, bumping my head into concrete walls every step I take. No bed, no place to use the bathroom, no food. Please Sinful, I know you can’t hear me, but please get this plan kickstarting soon.
Crawling to the cell bars, I attempt to look out, not seeing far enough. The closer I get to the corridor, the worse it smells, so I don’t bother to risk looking out into the darkness, instead sweeping back into the corner. This is what I expected, in some kind of messed up way. I know this is for the worst mortals to live the rest of eternity.
From that point, I began to count. Every second will be filled with a vicious insult for Sinful for taking so long.
My mark burns, my butt hurts from this floor, and I’m starting to get hungry. Even worse then that, a dark shadow of curiosity is approaching on the horizon, forming into an itch in a place I can’t reach. I want to get out of here and try find out who these guards are, what this prison is, who’s behind it, and what the Moon really is.
Despite all these wants, I have no other choice but to lay here.
I count what is around an hours worth of seconds before someone shows up at my cell door. At this point, my hands are clamped tightly over my ears to stop the sounds of wails and groans that echo off the walls, so at first, I don’t notice. When I do, I sit up immediately. I’m glad to see another person, even if it is shadowed and hooded. Another hour and I might have gone insane.
I want to ask if it’s Sinful, but they speak first, confirming the completely opposite.
“Come with me,” they demand in a whisper, pulling the door open as if it was never locked. I’m not sure if it wasn’t, or if I didn’t bother to check as I just assume it wouldn’t be open.
“Who are you?” I ask, slightly surprised to hear my voice belongs to me.
Not everything about me has changed, which is the biggest relief. So it’s not just our souls? This entire process is confusing, and since this hasn’t been the predictable in any sense, I’m worried Sinful has double crossed me, and our plan isn’t in fact real. The idea of that settles into my stomach, making me feel ill.
Instead of concentrating on that, I notice how this guard is completely ignoring me, leading me past cells where people slide their arms through, trying to grasp at us, but not succeeding.
“Excuse me,” I say, speeding up as much as possible on my weary legs. “What is happening right now.”
They don’t reply until we seem to come to the end of the hallway. They open a door, and as I wander speculatively through it, I leave the wails of pain behind me. I have to keep reminding myself they deserve this fate.
Once the door is closed, it’s like I’m in a completely different world.
“Keep up, and listen,” the guard mutters, starting up the stairs. I follow right behind, curious of where we are going, while being equally apprehensive. “Someone will explain more to you soon.”
Who, I wonder.
“That is one of the prisons, which I’m sure you are aware of for reasons you and I cannot discuss, but the one we are going to see now,” the way, leading me down another hallway. These corridors are more pleasant, although clinical. I can hear each of my steps on the shiny ground.
I decide to finally voice my queries. “Who?”
“You’ll see.” Another turn.
We pause in front of a large door, with crystal like windows to it that I can’t see through. The guard knocks promptly, before they turn, and walk away – only after demanding I stay standing outside the door. I nearly don’t, too scared of what is behind that door.
As the door opens, naturally, I’m faced with someone I’ve never seen before. Not just because they are a stranger, but also because of their looks. Otherwordly.
He smiles as he lays eyes on me.
“Sinful’s special present for me has finally arrived,” he says warmly. “Welcome, Alaya.”