Witch Condemned

by Valia Lind

Carefully, I get off the bed and tiptoe to the door. There's a small window at the top, with bars covering it and I pull myself up to look through it. At first, I don't see anything. If he's supposed to be watching me twenty-four-seven, then where is he going to sleep? But then, a shadow moves and I realize there's an opening to my right. I didn't notice it when we were coming back, but it must be a room attached to mine.

  "Go to bed," his voice reaches me, and I smile. Of course he knows what I'm doing. No matter how quiet I am, shifters have supernatural hearing and instincts. He can probably smell the mischief on me.

  Without a reply, I make my way back to the bed and lay down. The solid feel of it under my back makes me miss my own comforter and pillows. I've always been one of those people who loves to be surrounded by pillows when I sleep. Here, I barely have one. If I can even call it that.

  If someone asked me, I'd say I have no idea what the rules are at Blackwood Supernatural Prison. They makes sure we stay clean, but they feed us gross things I wouldn't call food. They allows us to exercise, to take care of our bodies, but they make us sleep on brick. Maybe it's a psychological trick, a way to mess with us. It doesn't really matter though, does it. This is my world now. I'm behind these walls until I find a way out.

  When I finally close my eyes, the first thing I see is Kelsey.

  We've known each other for fifteen years. She was six month younger than I, but we were in the same grade. Our parents have always been close, and when she moved here at the age of two, we became toddler friends in the way toddlers do. Then, we grew together and became as close as sisters. She was going to study herbal magic and serve as a Healer. When I wanted to take combat classes, she wanted to work in the garden. We were often called two sides of the same coin. No matter how different we were, we were stuck together. Forever.

  But then, she bled dry right in front of my eyes and there was nothing I could do. The tear slips through my closed eyes before I can stop it. Turning to face the wall, I hug my arms around myself, trying to hold it all in. It would be a very bad representation of myself if I started crying. No one would ever believe I could handle myself if they knew just how torn up I am inside. If I let myself dwell on what has happened, then the nightmares will return. At least here, in isolation, the only person who would hear my screams would be my mysterious guard. But I can't show that much vulnerability in front of him.

  So I push it all down. The tear dries on my skin, and I keep my eyes tightly shut to prevent any more from escaping. My fingers find the lock tattoo and I trace it automatically. The fact that I can see it tells me that not all of my magic has been locked away. I can feel it inside of me, just under the surface. That's the hope I hold onto. When the time is right, I will do what it takes to escape. Until then, I just have to survive.

  Chapter 3

  The next five days go by in the same exact manner. I get up, eat the food pushed through a slot, then wait. In the middle of the day, I am taken to a small gym, with just a few weights and a boxing bag. I spend an hour there, working my frustrating out on the leather, before my guard takes me back to my cell for dinner. After dinner, it's shower time and then back to my cell. He barely speaks to me, just a few directional grunts here and there. It's like our first meeting didn't happen and I never saw that spark in his eyes.

  He still lets me take my showers alone and for that I am thankful. He hasn't told me his name and I doubt he ever will. I've asked, repeatedly. Sometimes, in the middle of the night. He hasn't used mine either, not that I'm expecting him too. Actually, he hasn't even used my numbers. Sometimes, I think he watches me when I exercise, but every time I turn his way, he's focused on our surroundings. It's impossible to get a read on him. It shouldn't bother is much, but it does. He's become my silent shadow, and if I don't figure him out before I'm ready to make my move, that's going to be a problem.

  Today starts out like any other day. My whole existence is controlled by structured numbness. But today, I finally decide to do something about it. For my plan to eventually work, I have to know how much to push my broody warden. If I'm being honest, I know I can't outrun him. I also don't know just how much of my magic will work if push comes to shove. So I can't exactly rely on that. There has to be a way for me to learn more about him.

  When we reach the gym, an idea sparks. I start with stretches, while he leans against the wall at the entrance. Just like always, the place is empty, except for the two of us. I can feel his eyes on me, but I do my best not to look in his direction.

  After a few minutes, my body feels better, as if its suddenly happy with me again. A small smile comes to my lips as I think of how proud Kelsey would be of me if she could see me now. A pang of loss resounds in my chest, but I push it down. I'm on a mission and I have to stay focused.

  "I have a proposition for you," I begin, turning to face my silent shadow. His eyes shift over to me, but otherwise he doesn't react. "I challenge you to a hand to hand combat. If I win, you tell me your name."

  My chest feels heavy, as I just asked him for the world. I don't understand why this means so much to me, but it feels like it does. He continues to watch me steadily, and I don't move, afraid that I'll spook him. When he still doesn't react, I narrow my eyes, pulling on every part of my being to appear more confident than I feel.

  "Fine. If you're that scared I'll beat you," I turn away, shrugging, and head for the punching bag.

  "And if I win?"

  His smooth voice reaches out to me and I think I forget to breathe for a second. Turning slowly I see that he's come farther into the room, but not by much. There's still a lot of distance between us. Too much a voice inside of me whispers, but I push it away. My own thought fluster me for a moment, and I wonder if he can see it written on my face.

  "If you win," I say, keeping my voice as neutral as possible, "I'l stop bugging you about your name."

  My lips curl up at the corners and for just a tiny moment, I think he's going to smile back. The energy between us sizzles, and the room suddenly becomes too stuffy. I don't say anything else, waiting him out. A trickle of sweat runs down my back, and I haven't even exercised fully yet.

  "Deal," he finally says, stepping up to the mat.

  My heart skips over a beat, and I'm not sure if it's in excitement or fear. Walking back over to the mat, I stop only a few feet in front of him. His eyes track my every movement and I wonder what exactly did I get myself into?

  "Shall we shake on it?" I ask, trying to keep my voice light. But with his supernatural hearing, I have no doubt he can hear just how fast my heart is beating.

  "Sure."

  He extends his hand and I realize I have to touch him to seal the deal. For some reason, that thought sends my head spinning, but I only hesitate a moment. When our skin touches, the electricity in the room shocks my system and I gasp. My eyes fly up to his and I find that spark in them once more. Our first meeting wasn't a fluke. He feels it too. Whatever this is. But then, he drops my hand and steps into attack pose.

  This time, I grin fully. It's time to play.

  He attacks without preamble. If I wasn't already watching him, I would've missed the smooth way he pushes off his heels, throwing his body at mine. I step to the side but he anticipates my move, and then his leg is sweeping mine from under me and I'm landing hard on my back. Half a growl escapes my lips as frustration and challenge races over me. Being a shifter and all, he does have an advantage. But I'm not about to take this lying down.

  Pushing off my hands, I jump to my feet, my eyes trained on my opponent. He circles me slowly, his arms raised in front of him and when he's at my left, I swing. My right punch almost reaches him, before his hand comes up to block it. Then it's his turn to punch, but I mirror his movements and block it. We continue our dance, as I push him farther and farther back. But it doesn't seem like I'm actually gaining any ground. Frustration courses through me and the next time he blocks my punch, I kick out. Surprisingly, my foot connects with his stomach, pushing him a few feet bac
k. But I don't pause to celebrate the small victory.

  In a half jump, I bring my elbow down at his back, but he twists out of the way, catching me at the same time. I slam into his chest, as his arms wind around me, pinning me in place. He's so much taller than me, that my legs dangle of the ground. Yet, somehow, he feels solid and sure and just right against me. The thought comes uninvited and infuriates me even more.

  Making my body go limp, it's just enough of a jerk for me to drop down out of his arms. The moment I land on all fours, I sweep my leg out, taking his from under him. It's his turn to land on his back and I don't hesitate to jump on top of him. The moment I land, he tosses me off him and I tumble legs over head. My blood is rushing through my veins with a renewed exhilaration and the smile that comes to my lips is automatic.

  My warden steps towards me and I twist out of the way just in time, before I grab him around the throat and lock his head between my arms. He grabs my right leg, lifting me clear off my feet, before dropping me to the mat on my back. The wind gets knocked out of my lungs, but I'm not stopping now.

  Slamming my right leg over shoulder takes him by enough surprise that he drops to the mat beside me. I scramble after him, jumping on his back and bringing him back down. My arms wrap around his next, as my legs hold him in place at the sides. But the sheer size of him puts me at a disadvantage and after one second, he rolls over, taking me with him. We roll a few times, before I end up on top of him, straddling his hips. There's a moment of awareness and then he's pulling me forward. I use his own body as a momentum and flip us both over, before I slide forward and wrap my thighs around his throat. Making him pass out is my only plan. I don't stand a chance against his strength.

  He kicks out his legs, but I hold on tight. His strong hands settle on my upper thighs, scorching my skin, even through the material of my jumpsuit. The contact is distracting enough that he throws me off him, and I slide a few feet back on my butt. He jumps to his feet, and I'm on mine as well, throwing myself at his back and grabbing for his neck once more. He tosses me over his shoulder and this time when I land, there's no air left in my lungs. He stands over me, his eyes on mine, and for a second I think I might find actual respect there.

  "Are you giving up?" He asks, and the way his voice rushes over my skin makes the rest of this workout feel like a cooling walk through the glaciers. Narrowing my eyes, I do the only thing I can think of. Swinging my legs, I slam them into the back of his, and he drops like a rock on the mat beside me.

  "Never," I reply, breathing heavily. There's a noise, almost like a chuckle, and I start laughing. It's the first true freeing emotion I've felt in weeks and somehow when I start, I can't seem to stop. My body shakes, sweat and exhaustion weighing down on me now. A movement comes from my left and I turn my head enough to watch my mysterious warden sit up. He watches me laugh and I can't read the expression that comes over his face. It seems like he wants to say something and the laugh dies on my lips. But then, it's as if he shakes himself out of a fog.

  Jumping to his feet, he walks toward the doorway, once again the stoic bodyguard I've come to know. I get up much slower, more tired than I've been from a workout in a long time. But also, more pumped. There is something about fighting a worthy opponent, and this shifter is definitely at least that. For some reason, I can't seem to look at him, so I go through post workout stretches with my back facing him. The whole time, I'm aware of his eyes watching my every move and the gaze is like a physical weight on my tired muscles.

  Once we're done, he leads me to the showers, stopping just long enough to let me drink from a bottle he brought with him. The prison doesn't exactly provides me with workout equipment and I would've just drank the shower water. But he's been giving me this small kindness and I'm grateful. When we reach the showers, he checks the room as always, before heading out to give me some privacy.

  As I begin unbuttoning my jumpsuit he stops, his back tensing. I watch him, as he seems to come to some kind of a decision. Then, right before stepping through the doorway, he speaks.

  "Eric. My name is Eric."

  Chapter 4

  Eric doesn't talk to me as we head back to my cell after I showered. He doesn't even look my way, but I am acutely aware of every move he makes. I know he's not indifferent to me. But I'm not sure where I stand with him and that's a problem. I've been in this prison for a little over a month and it's way past time for me to get out. I don't know what I was trying to learn from Eric when we were sparring, besides his name. I already knew he was a strong shifter, the magic is all over him. Now I have to use this to my advantage somehow.

  Once inside my cell, the door shuts behind me with a click and just as always, my heart skips a beat. Being locked up forces me to be alone with my thoughts and it's not a pleasant place to be at the moment.

  Walking over to my bed, I lay down on my back, staring up at the ceiling. I don't have supernatural hearing, but for some reason, I feel like Eric is still just on the other side of the door. Turning my head, I stare at the door that separates us and a desire to call out to him rises up in me. But I don't give into it. Not yet, at least.

  I don't understand my own response to him. But I can tell that even my magic is aware of his nearness. Maybe that's all it is. A magical response. Yet, it doesn't feel quite true. When the slot in the door opens up and my dinner is pushed through the opening, I don't move. There's a moment of hesitation before closing the slot, as if he can sense my indecision. That doesn't last long. After a tense moment, I get off the bed and grab my food. Only then do the footsteps move away.

  This is all my existence has become. It still feels unreal.

  When Kelsey was attacked, I was too far away to do anything. But I've grown up with the stories of magical creatures who were created for the sole purpose of doing the bidding of those who wield the power. That day, I could taste the magic in the air as sure as I'm tasting this knockoff mashed potatoes concoction. The thing is, those creatures haven't been seen in decades and no one believed me when I said I didn't hurt Kelsey. Especially since her blood was all over my hands and my magic was all over her body. I tried to save her and I failed.

  When they came for me, I ran. I had to find those responsible for Kelsey's death. When I did, all I was going to do is turn him in. The older guy she met at a supermarket. He was the one to control the creatures. No one else saw him, but I did. He was surprised to see me, and then he fought. I had no choice but to protect myself and my magic, lead by my emotions, was unstoppable. They came right when he tumbled to the ground and even though I could've tried to run, I couldn't move away from the shock of the words he uttered.

  Long live the king.

  Such a simple phrase, but with so much meaning behind it. He was pledging his allegiance to an ancient evil. Someone I've only read about in books. Someone who I thought was dead. So I didn't run and here I am. Sitting on my bed, eating a gross dinner, and contemplating a way to escape this place so that I can find the king and kill him myself. No one believed me when I told him of the man's last words. No one thinks the king can rise again. But I know better. I can feel the magic shifting in the air and I have a responsibility to do something about it.

  After I finish my dinner, I lay back down on the hard surface, utterly exhausted after today. My mind can't seem to shut off, playing over the events of that day over and over, until I'm spent. My left hand reaches for my right, as I bring it in front of my face. The key tattoo, with it's barbed wire infinity sign stares back at me like a shining beacon. If I can see it, then I can reach my magic. That's my only explanation. There's no way to know unless I try to wield it, but the moment I do, Warden Matthews will know. I'm stuck and that's why figuring out what to do about Eric is so important. There has to be a way. I have to find it before it's too late.

  When the alarm begins screeching overhead, I jump to my feet immediately. The next moment my door is being ripped open and Eric appears in the frame.

  "What's happening?"

 
"We need to get out of this block. Now."

  I don't hesitate to move as he ushers me out of my cell and down the hall. The few cells that are occupied are being opened, and guards escort others from isolation out toward the main common area. The feeling of chaos surrounds me as we reach the general population, dozens of inmates and guards all squished into the same room. A moment of dread comes over me and disappointment. If I was more prepared, I might've been able to use this to my advantage.

  A feather of a touch on my upper arm brings my attention to Eric. Just a small shake of his head, as if he can read my thoughts, and I jerk my attention away. There's no use dwelling on the disappointment now. I have to think harder.

  I'm not sure how much time passes, before a general announcement comes over the loudspeakers. There was an issue in the isolation ward and they have to do a sweep before we can go back. Finding a place against one of the columns, I lean against it, my mind filled with ideas on how to use this to my advantage. I'm really coming up blank.

  "So where have they been hiding you, princess?"

  I don't even have to turn around to know who has spoken. Apparently, the distance has not made the heart grow fonder. My two options are to either ignore her or take the matters into my own hands. A quick glance to the left tells me that my bodyguard is here, leaning against the wall in the shadows and staying out of the way. I have no idea what he's thinking and I can't even begin to guess. But the warden didn't have a choice but stick me in general population while they did a sweep of the isolation ward. Which means I should've prepared for this. I'm really sucking at the whole planning thing right now.

  "Cat got your tongue?" This time, her voice is a lot closer and the snickers of laughter I hear are all around me. I guess the decision has been made for me. Taking matter into my own hands it is.