Of Moons and Monsters - Willow Hadley Page 0,15

to make out the shape of a person sitting just a few feet away from me. I tense up and try to scoot backwards, but my movements are slow and sluggish and everything hurts so badly. It’s not until my back presses against cold, metal bars that I realize I’m in a fucking cage, and the person next to me is crying.

“Hello?” I whisper, but my throat is dry and my voice cracks.

They don’t answer. They just continue weeping quietly, curled into a ball in the corner opposite from me. I decide they’re not an immediate threat for the time being, and I force myself to move into a sitting position so I can take stock of my injuries and try to get a better look around.

I’m still wearing the red evening gown I borrowed from Madame, but it’s wrinkled and stained with blood in some places. It’s also probably the least practical thing I could possibly be wearing in a situation like this. I’m barely covered, and it’s absolutely freezing in here. I’m also still wearing the Rene Caovilla sandals I’d been drooling over before Lord Rian’s party, and even though this is so not the time, I whine in dismay when I see one of the heels is broken. I’m pretty sure my left ankle is broken too, or at least badly sprained, and I wince as I pull the shoes off my feet. As much as it pains part of me to let them go, I know I’ve got a way better chance of getting out of this if I can actually run.

There are a couple of dim light bulbs flickering high up in the ceiling, and they only give off barely enough light to see by. I can’t tell how big the room we’re in is, or if there are any people or creatures outside of the cage, but I move around to familiarize myself with my surroundings as much as I possibly can. The cage is probably ten feet long and ten feet wide, but it’s not tall enough for me to stand up. When I sit up on my knees, I still have to bend over slightly in order to fit in the space.

There isn’t any food or water in our cage, and there also isn’t any piss or shit on the concrete floor. It actually smells surprisingly clean in here, wherever I am, which leads me to believe my cell-mate hasn’t been here much longer than I have. They’ve been sitting and crying since I woke up, and after checking my surroundings as much as I’m able to, I decide to try and talk to them again.

“Hey,” I hiss quietly. I clear my throat a few times and move closer, cautiously reaching out to poke their shoulder when they don’t respond.

They jump like I’ve startled them and finally lift their head. I meet the eyes of a scared young girl with light blonde hair. She’s dressed much more practically than I am, in jeans and a dark sweatshirt, with the hood pulled up to hide her hair. She stares at me with her lips trembling while tears continue streaming down her face.

“Do you know where we are?” I ask since she’s clearly not going to start a conversation. She shakes her head but still doesn’t speak. Growing a little frustrated, I sigh angrily. “Well, do you at least know why we’re here?”

“No,” she whimpers. “I just woke up a little while before you did. I met this guy who said he could help me, but—but then I...”

She trails off and cries harder. I’m terrified and trying really hard to hold it together. Part of me wants to shake this girl and demand she tell me every detail she possibly can about this place or anyone she interacted with in order to end up here. But she’s clearly losing her shit, so I sigh in defeat and rub my hand up and down her arm to try and sooth her.

“It’ll be okay,” I lie.

I scoot even closer to her and wrap my arms around her tiny frame, hoping to give her some kind of comfort. She hugs me back and cries more openly. We stay like that for a long time before she eventually falls asleep.

Chapter Five

Isla

“Are you going to be good today, or are we going to have to restrain you again while we shove this down your throat?”

I sneer and flip the guard off, not bothering to give him a verbal answer.

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