A Lesson in Humility
Kate’s POV
The first thing I noticed when I woke was a throbbing headache, like a tiny drummer boy was having a solo performance inside my skull. My body ached with every movement, a symphony of protests from muscles I hadn’t even known existed. The darkness was absolute, disorienting, and it took a moment for me to realize my hands were bound tightly behind my back.
The rough fabric bit into my wrists, and I instinctively tried to pull my arms apart, only to be met with a sharp pain that shot through my shoulders. Panic flared, a cold sweat breaking out on my skin. I thrashed against the restraints, the numbness in my hands giving way to a burning sensation that spread up my arms.
“Stop,” a quiet voice came from the corner of the room. “You’re just going to hurt yourself more.”
I froze, my eyes straining to see through the darkness. I made out a familiar figure sitting in a chair: Cyrus. His face was a mask of misery, a mixture of numbness, sadness, and guilt, a stark contrast to the composed smile he usually wore.
“Cyrus, untie me,” I demanded, my voice rough with anger and pain.
He shook his head slowly, his eyes filled with a grim determination. “I can’t, Kate. It’s for your own good.”
“My own good?” I spat, incredulous. “You’re kidding, right? This is some kind of twisted joke?”
“Just calm down,” he urged, his voice laced with exhaustion. “Be reasonable. You’re going to hurt yourself. I can’t help you if you don’t cooperate.”
I laughed, a harsh, bitter sound that echoed in the small room. “Cooperate? You’ve got to be joking. You tied me up like a damn Christmas turkey and you want me to cooperate?”
His eyes met mine, a steely resolve in their depths. “I’m serious, Kate. I want to help you, but we need to play by the rules here. Marcus is right – our actions affect more than just ourselves.”
“Oh, spare me the lecture,” I snapped, writhing against the restraints that bound me. “You’re going to sit there and spew Marcus’s propaganda while I’m tied up like a dog?”
Cyrus winced, his gaze flickering away from mine. “I’m sorry, Kate. This isn’t how I wanted things to go when I brought you here. I wanted to keep you safe, to help you learn to control your powers. But you have to understand – you can change the whole fight against the demons with your abilities. You can be protected for the rest of your life if you listen to Marcus.”
“So this is your idea of protection?” I retorted, sarcasm dripping from my voice. “Hog-tying me and giving me a lecture?”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was leaving when the new trainer arrives. I didn’t want to upset you. I’ve been fighting to stay, but I have to follow orders too. If I don’t, I’ll be out on my ass, cut off from everyone I know.”
“Maybe you shouldn’t care about people who’d abandon you for thinking for yourself,” I countered coldly.
The pain in his eyes intensified. “You don’t understand. This is all I’ve ever known.”
“Oh, the irony,” I scoffed. “You’re asking me to give up everything I know and love, but you’re not willing to do the same.”
He looked away, his face shadowed in the dim light. The silence stretched between us, thick with unspoken emotions.
“Just untie me,” I pleaded, my voice barely a whisper. “Please, Cyrus.”
He shook his head, his voice barely audible. “I can’t, Kate. I just… can’t. I’ll be gone in the morning, after the handover. Please, just try to accept this.”
A fresh wave of anger surged through me. “Accept this? You’re leaving me tied up like a pig for slaughter, and you expect me to just ‘accept’ it?”
He sighed, rubbing his face wearily. “I hate this, Kate. I hate myself for doing this. But this new trainer… he’s not like me. He’s a cruel asshole who lives for the organization. He believes everyone should be willing to die for the cause. If you try a stunt like last night on him, he’ll break you.”
“How thoughtful of you,” I sneered. “Leaving me at the mercy of a sadist. Thanks for looking out for me.”
“I’m doing what I have to,” he said, his voice hollow. “Get some rest. It’ll be a long day tomorrow.”
With that, he got up and left the room, leaving me alone in the darkness. I lay there, tears of indignation and anger welling up in my eyes. I tried to blink them back fiercely. No way was I giving them the satisfaction of seeing me break.
“Liam?” I whispered into the silence, a desperate plea for help. Nothing. The silence was deafening, suffocating. There was no answer. Had he abandoned me too? Was he still investigating the cabin, or had he decided I wasn’t worth the trouble?
I tried to use my powers, to focus all these emotions of hatred, sadness, fear, and rage, to summon the energy that had once flowed so easily through me – but nothing happened. Of course – spirit hands just had to be a requirement for magic powers.
Exhaustion washed over me, weighing on my chest and threatening to smother me. All I wanted was to be back home, see my dad, sit around a campfire with Elena and the rest of my archaeology crew, laughing and sharing stories. The organization could go to hell for all I cared.
But as I lay there, bound and helpless, a spark of defiance ignited within me. This wasn’t the end. I would find a way out of this mess, a way to break free from the organization’s iron grip. They might have won this battle, but the war was far from over.
I had no idea what time it was or how much time had passed since Cyrus left the room, but it felt like forever. My stomach growled angrily, a reminder of how long it had been since I’d eaten. The fabric chafed against my wrists, and every time I moved, a new wave of pain shot through my arms. Exhaustion weighed down on me like a heavy blanket, but anger, a burning, righteous fury, kept me awake. May God have mercy on the demon hunters once I got out of this situation.
The silence in the room was oppressive, broken only by the occasional creak of the house settling and the relentless ticking of the clock, each tick a tiny prick of irritation against my frayed nerves. Every minute felt like an hour, and my thoughts churned with a mixture of rage and determination. I focused on the faint sounds outside – the rustling of leaves, the distant hoot of an owl – anything to distract myself from the throbbing pain in my head and the tightness in my shoulders.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the window, casting long, ominous shadows across the room. The light was a stark contrast to the darkness that had enveloped me, and for a brief moment, I felt a glimmer of hope. But it was short-lived. The door creaked open, and Marcus walked in, an unusually dark and smug grin on his face. Here we go again, I thought, my heart pounding in my chest.
“Good morning,” he sneered. “How’d you sleep, Kate? I heard swaddling babies helps them sleep better, so I hope you don’t mind my little arrangement.”
His words dripped with sarcasm, and I felt a fresh surge of anger. Despite the pain, I managed to sit up straighter, meeting his gaze with as much defiance as I could muster. “Go to hell,” I shot back. “Maybe I’ll return the favor sooner or later.”
“Feisty as ever,” he remarked with a smirk. “But you’re in no position to make threats. You’re here to learn gratitude and loyalty. Until you do, consider yourself a petulant child who needs to be disciplined.”
He grabbed my shoulder and dragged me up, the sudden movement sending a jolt of pain through my body. He shoved me into a chair in the living room, and I bit back a groan as my bound hands pressed against the hard backrest. My stomach growled loudly, but I refused to give him the satisfaction of asking for food.
Cyrus sat on the couch, his head buried in his hands. He didn’t even look up as Marcus and I entered. “Is this really necessary, Marcus?” he asked quietly, his voice filled with a mix of resignation and guilt. Coward.
Marcus’s eyes flashed with irritation. “This wouldn’t be necessary if you had followed orders and if we hadn’t coddled her till now. Everything so far was child’s play. Her real training starts now.”
Cyrus didn’t respond, he just stared at the floor in silence. The room fell into an icy quiet, the only sound the relentless ticking of the clock, each tick a hammer blow to my sanity. I could feel the tension in the air, a thick, oppressive weight that made it hard to breathe.
After what felt like an eternity, Marcus’s phone rang. He answered it with a curt, “He’s here,” and left to fetch our guest.
I glared at Cyrus, who still refused to meet my eyes. The bastard. He’d sold me out, and now I was trapped in this living nightmare.
When Marcus returned, he wasn’t alone. The new trainer looked like Cyrus’s older, evil twin. He looked like he was in his mid-thirties, his hair cut in a clean crew cut, unlike Cyrus’s shaggier style, with a sharp and cruel edge on his face. The air crackled with his authority, even Marcus seemed to shrink in his presence. Another monster to deal with.
I noticed a weird aura of respect and submissiveness between Marcus and this new guy; he must be quite high on the pecking order of the organization, even higher than Marcus himself. Marcus was a regional commander as far as I knew. With less than 150 members spread out in cells worldwide, the fact that Cyrus mentioned a family home in France indicated a different regional assignment. Given this new guy’s apparent authority over Marcus, he must be one of the elusive “Council Members” they had mentioned before. Great, just what I needed, a high-ranking sadist.
“So, this is the infamous saintess,” he drawled, circling me like a predator stalking its prey. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you.”
“You must be something special to have given even Marcus such a hard time,” he continued, his eyes boring into mine. “But potential means nothing without discipline, and that’s where I come in.”
I refused to meet his gaze, my jaw clenched in defiance. He grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him.
“Get your filthy hands off me!” I snarled, trying to sink my teeth into his flesh.
He chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down my spine. “Feisty little thing, aren’t you? But don’t worry, darling. I’ll break you in soon enough. You’ll fall in line quickly if you know what’s good for you. Maybe we should just drop you off in the forest for a night, tied up like this, and let the demons teach you a lesson.”
“Are you actively trying to be a cliché villain, or does that just come naturally to you?” I shot back, my voice dripping with contempt.
His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t respond. Instead, he turned to Cyrus, a sickeningly sweet smile on his face. “Don’t worry, Cyrus. Kate and I will get along famously. You can leave her in my capable hands.”
Cyrus’s eyes blazed with fury, but he remained silent. He grabbed his backpack and headed for the door. “I’m done here,” he said, his voice thick with disgust. “The car is waiting.” He spared me one last glance, his eyes filled with regret, before disappearing.
A cold wave of despair washed over me as the door clicked shut. I was trapped, surrounded by monsters. But I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. I would fight tooth and nail, claw my way out of this hellhole, and make them pay for what they’d done.
Marcus’s voice broke through my thoughts, a dark satisfaction lacing his words. “You’re going to learn, Kate. Whether you like it or not.”
I glared at him, my eyes burning with hatred. “Go to hell, Marcus,” I hissed. “You and your whole twisted organization.”
The new trainer chuckled, a sound that chilled me to the bone. “We’ll see about that, sweetheart. But for now, get comfortable. This is your new reality.”
He walked around me, his eyes cold and calculating. “Your training starts today,” he announced, his voice as cold and sharp as the steel of a blade. “Obedience training. Since you made such a fuss, you’ll get the day to sit right here and reflect. No food, no water.”
Even Marcus, the epitome of unyielding discipline, seemed to hesitate for a moment. His shoulders tensed, his eyes hardening momentarily before he schooled his features back into a mask of indifference. But he didn’t oppose it either, his silence a stark betrayal against the backdrop of my rising fury.
“How am I supposed to use the bathroom tied up like this?” I asked, my voice a mixture of disbelief and indignation.
“Bathroom privileges are something earned, not given,” the new trainer, Eric, retorted with a smirk that made my skin crawl. “You should have thought of that before your little tantrum.”
Rage surged through me, a blinding red wave. Before I could even think, I spat at him. The saliva landed on his polished shoes, a small victory in the face of overwhelming oppression.
His reaction was swift and brutal. He slapped me hard across the face, the force of the blow snapping my head to the side. The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth, and my ears rang with the echo of the impact.
The room tilted, and I blinked back tears of pain and humiliation. The stinging in my cheek was nothing compared to the burning rage that coursed through my veins. I could feel the imprint of his hand like a brand, a searing reminder of my helplessness.
Eric stepped back, his eyes cold and calculating as he observed me. “You obviously mistake defiance for strength. A true soldier knows their place, knows when to bend the knee. I will teach you that lesson, even if I have to grind it into your bones. You’re nothing here, Kate. Just another tool, another weapon to be sharpened and used. And I will break you, piece by piece, until there’s nothing left but obedience.”
A dry laugh escaped my lips, the sound harsh and bitter. “Break me? Please. I’ve seen pottery shards with more backbone than you. You think a little humiliation and discomfort is going to shatter someone who’s spent years facing down sandstorms and unstable ruins? I’m made of tougher stuff than you give me credit for.”
His laughter was a chilling sound, devoid of any warmth or humor. “We’ll see about that. But for now, you sit and reflect on your choices. Maybe tomorrow you’ll be ready to start behaving.”
Marcus remained silent, a statue carved from cold, unyielding stone. But the slight tension in his jaw betrayed his unease. Despite everything, he was still complicit in this, a silent observer to my torment. The thought of his betrayal fueled my anger, fanning the flames of my resolve. I would not be broken. I would not give them the satisfaction. I would endure, I would survive, and I would escape this hell.
I sat there, the world a symphony of pain and throbbing silence. Eric’s mark still burned on my cheek, a searing reminder of my powerlessness. The air felt heavy, pressing down on me like a suffocating shroud.
Then, a whisper. A silken caress against my mind, a tantalizing promise of retribution.
“My poor, broken dove,” a voice purred, a dangerous melody of rage and desire. “They’ve hurt you, haven’t they?”
“Liam,” I rasped, my voice barely audible. “Please…” Even his unseen presence ignited a flicker of hope within me, a desperate yearning for vengeance.
“Let me in, my love,” he coaxed, his voice a symphony of seduction and fury. “Let me taste their fear, their pain. Let me make them pay for every tear you’ve shed.”
The bargain was unspoken, yet as clear as day. A pact with the Fae, a dance with the devil himself. But in this moment of utter despair, even the devil’s embrace seemed like a lifeline. I was already damned, wasn’t I?
A defiant spark ignited within me. If they wanted a monster, I would show them a monster they’d never forget.
“Liam,” I whispered, my voice firm despite the tremor of fear and pain. “I give you permission to enter.”
A shiver of anticipation coursed through me, a reckless gamble in the face of overwhelming odds. It was a dangerous game, a dance with shadows and desires. But it was a game I was willing to play if it meant escaping this hell and unleashing a whirlwind of retribution upon those who dared to hurt me.
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