Chapter 42: Memories

~Ember's P.O.V.~

How many times have I seen a younger me running through a beautiful palace hallway? How many times did I reach up to a parent's face that I couldn't quite remember through my hazy memories as they picked me up? There were just too many times to count. But something was wrong this time. The palace hallway kept switching from one filled with polished, expensive looking things to a smaller hallway with a cinnamon colored rug with a pine wooden floor and an arched window with golden sunlight beaming through it at the end of the hallway. It felt familiar, although I was positive that I've never seen it before. When I glanced into the plain, full length mirror where the lavish palace mirror should have been, I was not dressed in an elegant dress made for a princess, but regular black pants with a white long-sleeve shirt and a cute winking pink heart in the middle of my undeveloped chest.

"What's going on?" I quietly said, then regretted it immediately. It felt wrong to speak, as if I wasn't supposed to. The scene suddenly became blurry, almost like static on a television with bad reception. It kept switching from the decorated hallways and scenes of the palace that I was used to seeing to other images that I've never seen before, but struck fear into me. The new images overwhelmed my senses; there were screams of both women and men ringing in my ears, a quaint little house with a lush backyard that stretched out to a large oak tree and a small bean-shaped pond, me running through a dark forest with the smell of something burning in the night sky, and a white room that smelled of blood and a mixture of sterilizing alcohol. Many jumbled pictures and movies flashed in front of my eyes for a good amount of time until I couldn't take it anymore.

I squatted down and curled into a fetal position with my hands covering my ears and my eyes squeezed shut. I wanted to block everything out. I didn't want to hear the agonized screams, see the deadened eyes on unfamiliar faces, or the clouded faces of who I supposed were my parents. I just wanted everything to disappear.

My hands, which were doing a poor job with keeping the voices out, suddenly felt wet. I removed them from my head slowly, frightened at what I would find, and brought them in front of me to look at them. What I saw sent me into hysterics; my small hands were covered with fresh blood, which quickly traveled up my arms until they were completely covered as well. I checked the rest of my body, trying to quickly wipe it off on my clothes as my breathing accelerated, but it wouldn't come off and it just kept spreading. I tried to scream for help, but there was nothing but a gurgle as the crimson fluid came into my mouth and covered my eyes, drowning me in it.

A woman's scream abruptly permeated through my ear-drums. "Ember, RUN!" And that's when my eyes sprung open.

I bolted up from lying on my back, my muscles and nerves tensed to the extreme like a cheetah preparing for a chase. My eyes darted frantically, not really taking in my surroundings, and I was sweating and panting like a dog in heat. And yet I couldn't find my voice; there was a scream that was lodged in my throat that I couldn't force out. Finally taking in the fact that there was no immediate danger, I forced myself to close my eyes and suck in slow, steady breaths. When I opened them again, my muscles had dramatically loosened up and my heart was at a steady drum.

And then I barfed.

Actually, it was more of a dry heave.

I had managed to lean over the edge of the bed that I was laying on, trying to release what little was in my stomach. After I was positive that stomach acid was the only thing that would come up, I sat back up in the bed and placed a hand over my eyes. They hadn't adjusted to how bright it was and my head felt like it was splitting open. I tried to think around it.

What the hell was that? Those weren't my memories. Who were those dead people? Where were those places?

I tried to recall those confusing nightmares, but my head pounded harder, stopping me from thinking anything more about them. I laid my head back down on the silky sheets, hoping that the urge to puke would subside. It eventually did - the soft material helped immensely. After a while, I was finally able to sit up completely with a clear head.

I looked around my new setting and immediately felt disgusted. The room itself was unnecessarily huge just to hold one person in it - the space could easily hold an average sized living room and kitchen. The wall was painted with what I could only describe as a combination between pink and peach, creating a soft hue between the two, and towards the ceiling were intricately painted flowers cascading down from the edge of the wall. I stuck out my tongue and made a face. Saying that the room was too girly would have been a drastic understatement. There were very few pieces of furniture in the room other than another fancy chandelier hanging from the ceiling, a wardrobe that was next to a smaller door that was straight across the room from my bed, a bedside table with a lamp ornately decorated with colored jewels, a vase with a bouquet of forget-me-nots, and a bottle of water.

Seeing the still fluid made me very aware of my own bladder, and I tried to occupy my mind by counting to 100 as I threw off the covers - briefly taking in the fact that there was a shackle around my ankle with a long chain - slowly got out of bed, and shuffled my way to the closest door with my legs closed as tightly as possible, praying that I wouldn't have to pick a corner. By the time I reached the door and opened it to find a completely white bathroom, my bladder was screaming so badly that the relief that flooded through me at the sight of a toilet almost opened the floodgates as well. After I did my business, I washed my hands, splashed my face with water to completely wake myself up, and took a good long look in the mirror that was hanging above it. The color in my face was returning, the haze in my mind had completely disappeared, and I looked clean as if I had been scrubbed from head to toe. It was then that I took notice of my ensemble and frowned; I was wearing a pink frilly satin gown with a lace design of intricate swirls at the ends of it and clean underwear. On top of that, I smelled like strawberries. I twisted my body to realize that the gown also had neatly made slits where my wings were so that I could stretch them out. It was almost as if the outfit was made for me. I tried not to think about who changed me as I walked out of the bathroom and stretched out my wings and my stiff limbs. I wondered how long I had been out, but that mundane thought all but disappeared as I zeroed in on my only constraint, the shackle on my left ankle.

It wasn't big enough for me to slip my foot through and I wasn't desperate enough to try to break my ankle or find something to cut off my foot entirely, so I focused on the chain itself. It was chained to the bed's frame and it jingled slightly as I lifted it off of the stone floor to tug at it. The bed wouldn't budge at all and the chain link was quite strong, so I looked around for something sharp to try to cut it with. There was absolutely nothing. I even tried conjuring my purple hand to try to break it, but the metal couldn't be crushed.

If I was just given one opportunity to get out of these and escape, I'll be able to do something...
I looked at the large door that was the farthest to me, assuming that was the only way to come in and out. I highly doubt a guard is just gonna come in here with the keys to this thing. I don't even think I can reach it.

My thought was justified as I tried to walk toward it. I was only able to get as far as the end of the obscenely large wardrobe before the chain grew taut and I could move no more. I stared helplessly toward my goal. I still had half of the room to go to even be able to touch the door handle. Starting to feel a hint of panic begin to creep in, I turned back around, my eyes searching for anything that could help. And then I saw the windows.

They were medium-sized circular windows with gold frames that were just as unnecessarily decorated as everything else in this room. There were no bars over them, but they were fairly close to the ceiling. From where I was standing, I could see the slate gray color of what I assumed were clouds. Maybe if I can see through the window, I can at least get an idea of where I am and how far we are from a street... I thought as my wings began to fully unfurl and stir the stale air around it. I was lifted higher and higher, my hope for a slim chance for escape growing as my right hand reached for the ledge. But as my fingers managed to curve around the edge, the chain links grew taut once more and I lost my grip. I hovered close to my goal and stared at the window ledge, the little hope that I had quickly disintegrating. No, no, no. Please, just a few more feet... I pleaded as I tried again. My fingers reached the ledge again, and my constriction tightened, but this time I resisted. I tried pulling myself up, getting first both hands on the ledge, then managing to get my elbow to barely rest on it.

Just...a few more...inches... I attempted to pull myself up again to get even a small peek over the jut to see through the window. My ankle was screaming with pain by now and no matter how hard I tried to ignore it, I could do nothing but give in to it. Sucking in a breath through my clenched teeth, I released the ledge all together and landed as delicately as I could before sitting down and nursing my throbbing ankle. It wasn't broken, but it looked as if it was threatening to swell up like a balloon. I got up once more and tried putting weight on it, but it was very tender. Hot, angry tears threatened to brim over.

Why can't anything ever be easy?! I half shuffled, half skipped over to the side of the bed and sat down, using my arms to wipe away the tears that were about to fall. My breathing was becoming faster and a fire began scorching through my chest. I wanted to break something. So I grabbed the first thing that I could get my hands on: the vase. I threw it hard against the wall that I was facing and watched as the pieces flew in a colorful array of directions, the helpless flowers sliding down the wall and landing in a clumsy heap on the floor among the broken vase pieces.

The destruction left me with a little satisfaction, but I wasn't placated. So I grabbed the lamp, effectively yanking it out of the power socket and flung it toward the bathroom door. It connected and shattered; the jewels popped out of their sockets and darted across the floor while the impact itself left a decent sized dent in the door as well. Then, completely tuning out the dull pulse of pain in my ankle, I stood up, picked up the small bedside table, and flung it over the large bed and across the room toward the entrance as if it weighed nothing but a stuffed pillow. A few pieces splintered off and the remaining bulk of it skittered across the floor before finally coming to a stand-still about 10 feet away from the entrance. Now destroyed, it looked far less charming than when I had first laid my eyes on it. I looked up and contemplated on trying to destroy the chandelier as well to completely dismantle what little elegance was in the room, but the opening of the large door threw my thoughts off course.

Swiveling my head to see who had come in, my expression changed from that of a caged bull - wild and crazed - to that of a tiger - ready to pounce at a moment's notice at the sight of Max walking through the door with all smiles. "Oh my. I see someone has been redecorating," she voiced as she glanced around the room, admiring my destruction. She continued to stride inside but stopped short of the broken hunk of wood on the floor. She looked around for another instant, now uninterested and even a little bit disgusted, before fixing her gaze on me. I stared back from beside the bed, confused and wary of her next move.

Why isn't she coming closer? Is she trying to taunt me?

"Well, it's good to see that Jake has some sense. He may be obsessed with you, but he at least remembers what you can do after a good rest," Max uttered, more to herself than to me. I glanced down at my only restraint, then looked back up with a sudden understanding.

Max was wary of me. She wasn't venturing any further because she was afraid of what I could possibly do.

Not that her thoughts don't have any basis. At least I can use my extra hand now.

"Oh, so now I'm a threat? Earlier you were practically boasting about how I couldn't take you on. Why the sudden change of attitude?" I asked, taking small steps from around the bed toward her.

Max watched me like a hawk. "Don't play coy. I know what you are capable of. Although you're a lot tamer than you used to be," was her response.

"What are you talking about? If anyone is dangerous here, it's you and everyone else in this place. You people are monsters," I shot back.

"As if you're one to talk. The stove can't call the kettle black. You're the true monster."

"You're a freaking robot!" I exclaimed. "And I'm not the one who abandoned their friends and switched sides on them. I'm not the one who just threw away their trust like it was a piece of used tissue paper. Do you know how much you meant to them all? Especially Fang! To this day, he is still hurt by your deception." I had taken a few more steps forward as I became more agitated. Max took a few steps of her own toward me.

"Shut up! Don't speak as if you know about me or him! And what if I hurt the Flock's feelings? I did what I had to do to save what I cared about. But compared to you, I'm a pocket full of f-ing posies. How many people have you killed so far without even a hint of remorse? 10? 30? 100?! God, you're more of a freak than I am, and that's saying something!" She threw up her hands in a fit of indignation. Max had now become so fired up that she had inadvertently stepped as far as the wardrobe. I was now thoroughly confused, but I stood my ground.

"I've never killed a person before," I asserted.

Well, Erasers don't technically count as people...

"You don't even remember your victim's faces -" Max began with scorn coloring her tone before abruptly freezing. Her face cleared as if she had just recalled something important. "Your memory..." she murmured, so low that I almost didn't catch what she said.

"What's wrong with it?" I asked defensively, vaguely remembering the nightmarish scenes that had invaded my dreams. But Max said no more on the topic and instead turned her back to me and began walking out.

She sighed and shook her head. "You just ruined my mood." I could hear the brooding in her tone as if I had actually killed her fun.

"What...wait! What's wrong with my memory?" I called after her, but Max was already closing the door behind her, effectively evading my question. I stood there in complete bafflement before plopping down on the floor on my knees in exasperation. Did everyone just like to make cryptic messages that would keep me up at night? Or maybe Max just said it so that she could watch me wrack my brain and drive myself insane.

But she wouldn't do that, I contemplated. She doesn't have the patience to do that kind of tame mental warfare. Or maybe that's what she wants me to believe...

Arrgh!" I groaned, tousling my hair in an unruly fashion. All of this thinking wasn't getting me anywhere at all.

I'll dwell on this matter when we're out of here...and we will get out.

It was just a matter of how. I was sure that where ever we were had an almost maze-like floor plan with many floors, hidden doors and chambers, and who knows what else. I would surely get lost, and even captured again if I managed to escape this room before I found anyone.

I need a good plan. But that would be so much easier if I could actually see outside of these walls…ah, but who said that I can't?

Getting myself comfortable, I got back on the bed and switched to sitting Indian style to mentally prepare myself. Now having a clear idea of what it was, how to control it, and access to a lot more energy, I released "myself" from my body with the intent to jump into the first mind that walked past my doorway. I could easily imagine the distance between myself and the entrance, but as soon as I stepped through it, I was surprised to have already found myself in someone else's mind. I could finally see the hallway with its lush hues of warm browns, and a large stained glass was across from my door. The setting sun made a splash of fragmented rainbow colored pieces on to the floor. But the person wasn't paying attention to that. In fact, they were just pacing in front of the doorway and I only got a glimpse of the surroundings every time they turned around to walk in the other direction. There was nothing really interesting to hear inside of this person's head, just a quiet hum that I assumed were a million and one thoughts going on at once.

"Man, she really gets under my skin," said the person in an irritated tone. Finally able to hear the person's voice, I held my breath, expecting to get caught right there and then. I was in the mind of Max. I kept silent, listening for any sign that she suspected that something was amiss. Luckily for me, she was too engrossed in her thoughts to take notice.

Without warning, Max broke off her pacing and stalked off to the left of the doorway. The hall, which initially looked like a straight walk, began to branch off in different directions the farther along she went. I had to continuously remind myself the directions of where Max had turned, how many turns she made, and special markers that would help me find the area again. After what seemed like a labyrinth of twists and turns, Max appeared in front of a pod-like elevator. It opened automatically as she advanced toward it and when she stepped inside, she more or less jammed her finger on the down button and began tapping her foot in impatience as the elevator made its way down soundlessly. Although I was glad that I was able to hitch a ride to see where she was going, I was still essentially blind. The short time in the elevator allowed me to listen more closely to what she was thinking, but there was still nothing but that unnerving hum, almost as if she was devoid of thought.

That can't be right, I tried to reason with myself. Something is obviously bugging her. But why can't I hear anything?

I tried not to care, but it was a tad bit hard considering that I didn't know where she was heading to. I hoped that she was going to where the Flock was being held, but I wasn't too optimistic about it.

"Finally" Max muttered in annoyance as the elevator came to a smooth stop and the doors opened once more. She stepped out into a drearier hallway. There wasn't much color compared to the hallway that was outside my door; it almost reminded me of a basement or a well-kept dungeon. The windows were high and small, producing very little light. I could tell just from seeing this that my treatment compared to everyone else's was like night and day. Max made a few more turns before coming to a stop in front of another large door, one that wasn't nearly as ornate as the one that confined me. It was such a short trip that I just expected her to pop in to speak to someone unimportant before heading along her way. But when she opened the door and a familiar face came into view, I was quite beside myself with my unforeseen luck.

"Hello Fang."