an: Hello my lovelies! A big huge thank you to all of my readers that gave this story a shot! Kudos to you, my friends! I wrote this last chapter pretty late at night, so it might be a bit jumbled, but I figured Sophia just came to from a near-death experience, so she's allowed to be a little fuzzed up.. thats still a poor excuse but whatevs.C; Tell me what you guys think so far! Enjoy!
Through the haze and fear that rips through my body, I realize I have been spit onto shore by the unrelenting river I was thrown into. I cough and gag and scream, all to no avail. There is mud and blood smeared in my eyes and I can hardly breathe. My lungs are on fire and I can feel my conciousness fading fast. I continue to scream until I can no longer make a sound.
I feel warmth.
There are arms around me, shaking me. "Hey," a voice says in my ear. "Hey, stay with me."
I want to open my mouth and tell him to let me go. I dont want to stay. I dont want to be here in this place where such horrible things happen.
I want this voice to let me sleep.
But it is persistent.
"Dont give up on me, Blondie. I know you're stronger than that." The voice says more, but I dont listen, I open my mouth and try my hardest to form words.
"Let me sleep," I manage, though it comes out more slurred than I would have liked.
I hear the voice sigh in what I think is relief. Or annoyance."Fine, Blondie. Sleep."
And I do.
I come to with no bruises or scars, though I can still taste the river I fell into in the back of my throat. I sit up to realize I'm in an ornate bed, with frilly soft sheets and walls painted a pretty rose color.
A girl is standing at the foot of the bed, watching me. She is small and blonde, like the little girl I saw in the forest- though much cleaner. She is wearing what seems to be a sort of habit for a nun, without the headpiece. She gives a weak smile when our eyes meet and whispers, "Hello."
"Hi," I try to say, but my throat is so constricted it comes out in a whisper as well; I try to cough but only end up making things worse.
The little girl goes to the table beside my bed and picks up a glass filled with water. Handing it to me, she says, "My name is Alice. I'm here to help."
I drain the glass of water in three gulps and reply, "Sophia."
"Pleasure to meet you," she says, taking the empty glass from my shaking hand and setting it back on the table where it came from. "You took a nasty beating in that river. Lucky you were turned up on the shore. Only 3 girls made it before you."
Lucky. That words rings around my head in such volumes that I'm very dizzy for a few seconds. When the rest of what Alice had said makes it into my thoughts, I sit back on the pillow and furrow my brow. "But I didn't make it past the gate. They should have killed me."
"You were closer than you thought. You are the first exception I've heard of in a very long time. I haven't heard of anyone being pulled in without reaching the gate first." Alice reaches gently for my hand and I let her tug me from the bed and bring me over to a vanity table across the room.
She continues talking as she begins fluffing my hair and pulling it in different ways away from my face. It is naturally blonde and wavy, and looks like it has been cleaned, which is probably why I see none of the blood stains that coated my head earlier. I only listen to bits and pieces. The rest of me is still trying to rationalize the whole situation. There is no way that I am really in a different.. realm? Dimension? Whatever this place may be, it isn't real. It can't be.
"We thought you were a Lost Boy when Cassius found you, you were so dirty, but you had the necklace on. Peter wanted to throw you out, have you killed, but Cassius argued that it would be no fun with only 3 girls." She speaks lightly, using names that twist and whirl around through my head. "I must say, of all of Peter's legacies, Cassius is the most unique I've seen. To stick up for someone like that? He is rather rude and haughty, mind you, but still."
I shake my head, undoing whatever Alice had just finished with my hair. She furrows her brow and starts over. "Who's Peter? And Cassius?" I ask.
"Peter is, of course, Peter Pan's great great grandson, Peter VI. He married Vivian and they had a son named Cassius. He's the next in line, Peter VII."
How confusing, I think to myself. They all name themselves Peter. Like King Leo and his kids.
That nonchalant thought fills me with a sudden dread. How simply I am accepting my fate. My fingers flex uselessly in my lap. I want so badly to run.
"I for one, am glad Cassius won the argument. You're much more pleasant than the other three. I think he'll take a liking to you quickly."
I don't want him to. And if my being silent makes me more pleasant than the other three Chosen, than how much more awful could they be?
Dinner is filled with a silence that cuts me to the core. The three other Chosen girls are sitting quietly, examining me as I examine them in return. The girl across the table to my left is small, with beautifully colored and curled strawberry blonde hair and pale skin dotted with freckles. Her green eyes slice into mine and she grins, not exactly kindly.
The girl to her left is pretty as well, with long dark hair that flows down her back. She looks utterly bored, almost as if she's accepted the fact that her demise is here, now- or soon. She looks at none of the other girls at the table. She has big grey eyes and delicate features, almost like a small child, or a doll that you would have played with as a child.
The girl next to me has dirty blonde hair, wildly curly, and a round face. Her eyes are a lovely Carmel color, her complexion is all coffee-and-cream. She gives me a nervous smile when she catches my eye. I would have returned the smile, but her eyes remind me of the blonde girl in the woods when I was trying to find my way to the House, making me almost cringe and look away.
"Well," the redhead says so suddenly that I jump, "I'm Daphne."
When no one else speaks, she rolls her eyes. "Seriously? You guys can't even tell me your names?"
But before anyone can utter another word, the large wooden door on the other side of the room is thrown open and in steps a man—more likely a boy, he seems to be around my age, maybe eighteen or nineteen. His walk is filled with the confidence of a prince, his smile promises trouble. He throws himself into a chair between Daphne, whose eyes have grown wide with affection, and the girl with dark hair.
He is tall and lean, well-built and handsome. He slouches in his chair, an obvious I-could-care-less attitude about him. He has dark hair with long mussed tendrils and lightly tanned skin. His face is all planes and angles, an interesting piece of art: thick eyebrows, fine boned nose, angular jaw, and a pair of ocher eyes that seemed to shine like the sun framed behind dark lashes.
His smiles a daring smile as he looks over all of us. "Ladies," he says.
Daphne giggles and he humors her with a sly grin and a wink.
"Alright," he says finally when none of us speak, "let's see if I have this right." He looks at Daphne who is practically falling out of her chair she is swooning so terribly. "You, my dear, must be Daphne."
She blushes and giggles once more. I think I lose my appetite- if I had one to begin with, that is.
He turns to the girl with dark hair. "And you must be the lovely Gabrielle."
She says nothing, simply nods and makes brief eye contact with him.
"That makes this beauty out to be the one named Kinsley," he says directed to the girl next to me with curly hair.
She simply gives one curt nod and a small, unsure smile.
"And you," he says, turning those golden eyes to me, "I don't believe we've had the pleasure- well, with you conscious anyway." He smiles handsomely and my stomach turns.
When I say nothing, simply stare wide-eyed, his smile fades.
"I suppose I should tell you who I am, of course-" he begins.
"I know who you are, Cassius," I say, and a thrill goes through me as I say his name. I don't know exactly where this confidence is coming from, but I latch onto it tightly. Confidence will help free me from this place. "I'm Sophia."
The smile returns, this one more gentle than fierce. A lion trying not to frighten the gazelle he is about to eat. "You sure clean up nice," he comments, "you were a muddy mess the last time I saw you."
Daphne giggles once more.
"Thank you," I say, "for saving my life." I am sincere when I say this.
His face gives nothing away but I can see a change in his eyes. "Don't mention it," he says out loud with a casual shrug.
The table lapses into another silence. I fiddle with my hands in my lap, a nervous habit, and try not to stare at Cassius for too long. It seems that for as handsome as he is, an almost otherworldly beauty, he should have no problem bringing girls with him into this world willingly. Already I see that Daphne has fallen head over heels for this boy that has kidnapped her from her home and taken her as hostage here. I wonder if the whole taking-women-against-their-will routine is more of a tradition than a request by the bachelor himself. Maybe he doesnt even want a bride. Maybe he's a monster just like the rest of these people and I am merely trying to make an excuse for him because he has the face of an angel.
But I can tell that he is no angel. His smile is one that tells me he doesnt play by the rules very often. It is that specific smile, though, that makes me want to know what makes him tick. I want out of this world as soon as possible, but I realize as he takes in the women around him with that smile and those energetic eyes, that I want to get to know him more than anyone here.
"The dinner tonight is being prepared right now. It looks simply divine. I hope you all are hungry," Cassius says, more to fill the silence than to actually show that he cares whether or not we are hungry.
"Oh, delightful!" Daphne crows. She tries engaging Cassius into a conversation to which he only half-commits to.
At the thought of food, my stomach churns. I can still taste the silt of the river in the back of my mouth, though I must have brushed my teeth at least five different times before coming down to this room.
The room itself is something that I would have never dreamed of stepping foot in. Straight out of a fairy-tale, I can only picture someone such as Cinderella eating here with her prince charming. For a prison cafeteria, this place is a very nice one. The trim of the room was an ornately carved wood, matching the chairs and the massive table that we were all sitting at. The room was large, like a smaller-scaled ballroom. The ceiling was tall and spacious, painted to match the sky and adorned with a gigantic chandalier. I imagine myself up there, lying across one of the large support beams, surrounded by shimmering crystal, staring up at a sky I wish I could escape into.
It is then that I realize someone is speaking to me. I snap to attention to see a slow grin forming on Cassius' face.
"What?" I ask, defensive.
"You really shouldnt play so hard to get this quickly," he says in a mock-confidential tone, "wait until I get to know you some more before the love-games start." He winks.
"Maybe she's just slow," Daphne says in a poorly impersonated empathetic tone.
"Maybe you're trying too hard," I shoot back to her before I can stop myself.
Cassius laughs as Daphne turns a bright red shade, her skintone almost matching her hair color. She shoots me a glare and I know I have just made an enemy.
Before Daphne can give a retort, though, a man walks through the door, dressed in a nice shirt and pants, probably as young as Alice, with similar features. Maybe they are related? I would have to ask.
"Dinner is served," the boy says in his most authoritave voice.
"Well," says Cassius, "it's about time. I'm starved; let's eat!"
I am dreading this meal.
an: Wellllp, thats chappie 2! PLEASE review and tell me what you think of it so far! I really have big plans for this story! Cant wait to hear from you guys! Thanks for reading!