Author's Note: Thanks for staying with me! I hope you enjoy this chapter! :)
Six's point of view:
"Marina!" I whisper. No response. "Marina!" I yell, even though I know it'll wake up Nine. Still no response. Marina continues jerking, her face now a bit pale. I shake her shoulder, worrying if Ella had passed on the coma to her telepathically. "MARINA!" I yell. As soon as her eyes snap open, I breathe a sigh of relief. Marina groans and rubs at her eyes. It's as if she didn't get any rest at all.
"Five," she whispers, struggling to push herself up. My confusion must have shown on my face, because she shakes her head and continues.
"I saw him in a dream," she says. "He said we could save Eight. He said no Mogs would be near in the next week so that we could get to him."
I frown. "It's a trap," is my immediate reply. Marina nods. "We can't go back, Marina. We-" I choke on my words. "He's dead. We can't save him." But even as I say this, I can see the look on Marina's face. She's already hoping.
I hear a faint buzzing noise in my head.
Six.
Ella? I think back to her. I hope it's Ella.
Six.
Her voice is growing meeker. I furrow my brows in concentration and send another message out to her. Marina is watching me, with her chin propped up in her hands and her eyelids weighed down with exhaustion.
Ella, Eight's gone.
I know. We were attacked.
I bite my lip. I know it was Five who planned this all out. I feel a searing hatred for him. To Marina, I say,"It's Ella."
I focus my concentration on Ella again. Where are you right now?
I don't know.
Suddenly, my visions starts blurring. Parts of the room break apart until I see only darkness. As soon as the darkness envelops me, however, a picture sputters to life in front of my eyes.
A long hall stretches out to my right. Its walls are decorated lavishly with tapestries and its tiles painted gold and purple. In the tapestry nearest to me, I see a girl with long blonde hair being stabbed by a Mog. With a wrenching pain, I realize that this must be Number One. As I peer farther down the hall, I see others. Number Two. Number Three. I feel disgust for the war-thirsty Mogs, and their way of honoring their battles. The fourth tapestry brings up bile from the back of my throat. I clench my fists in frustration and revulsion. The picture depicts Five shoving a knife through Eight. As if I don't see that scene enough already. As if I don't see that image play across my vision every time I close my eyes.
A steady humming noise comes from behind me. I've been so engrossed in the tapestries that I haven't noticed it yet. I turn around and see a crouching girl in front of an exquisitely decorated throne. It's Ella, but I don't think she can see me. I shout towards her, but she doesn't even lift her head. Ella is surrounded by a glowing, dome-shaped force field, projected by a single machine from the ceiling, and I wonder if it's the same one that blasted John back from the Mog base from what felt like so long ago.
The throne is centered in the middle of the room, raised from the floor. Ella is dressed in a flowing white dress with a ruffled trimming resting around her ankles, and is sitting on top of the marble pedestals that lead up to the throne. The throne seems far too small for Setrakus Ra. Is it for Ella?
She seems well cared-for, her hair neatly braided, but I knew this must be a prison for her. A menacing jail cell that she can't escape. A whisper forces its way into my head, a last plea from Ella just as she tilts her head up with a haunted look in her eyes.
Help me.
Author's Note: Wow I actually have people reading this! :) Please review so I can know how you feel about my writing! Thanks!