Psychic Prison

by Veronica Agnus

  "We're going to either be stuck here or walk in there naked," I concluded.

  "Walking in what they say is a 'birthday suit' doesn't seem as humiliating when you know the fine details of the metaphor," she began, and I had a feeling she was going to give me a lecture.

  "Birthday suit aka butt naked. As confident as I am, I'd rather not walk into a room with three strangers that are probably viewing me as a sex slave rather than as an actual individual," I whined out loud and groaned as I failed at reaching the top part of the zipper, again.

  "You could summon the owl woman."

  I didn't want to call her so early into all of this. What if she thinks I'm codependent on her or something?

  "Won't know until you meet her, and unless you can get that zipper pulled up your back in five more minutes, I'm sure those new masters are going to think you're a pussy."

  I have to question where you got your vocabulary from.

  "Pussy has been passed down the hierarchies of knowledge. Other terms for it are-"

  Never mind! I'll just summon Lyla!

  "Lyla?" My voice was quiet but echoed through the small bathroom. The idea of asking for assistance bugged me, but today wasn't the time to make a bad impression and aside from Atticus, who I felt confident in, Lyla would be the next person on the list of people from my past.

  "Yes, Queen Phoenix."

  I flinched at the sound behind me, swiftly twirling around to face the woman in question. My instant reaction was to stare because the professional woman I recalled from earlier was now wearing a magnificent gold dress that sparkled from head to toe.

  Loose, blonde curls were tied up in a ponytail, while stunning blue eyes carried an extra piercing quality to them that made me question if I was in trouble for summoning her.

  She must suffer from what people referred to as “resting bitch face,” something that totally resonated with me seeing as I'd dealt with that during half my visit at the hospital where they couldn't tell if I was in pain or utterly annoyed with the handcuffs.

  Her lips were cloaked with a soft nude with hints of gold sparkle, and she wore light blue heels that matched the stone necklace she wore with elegance.

  The strapless dress complimented her slender figure, accentuating her small waist. It wasn't until her lips curled into a pleased smile that I clicked in on my obvious staring.

  Admiring how stunning she looked compared to me.

  "Good morning, Alisha," she greeted. "Do you need my assistance?"

  "Yes." I quickly straightened my posture and pushed aside my insecurities. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but do you mind aiding me with my zipper?"

  I turned around to show her my dilemma, and I looked over my shoulder to see her kind eyes twinkle in delight.

  "Certainly."

  She seemed extremely pleased to complete the simple task, and in just a short minute, my dress was set.

  "Anything else you need of me?"

  "Not at all," I replied and couldn't stop my beaming smile. "Thank you, Lyla."

  "Most certainly welcome, Queen Phoenix. Shall I escort you to the meeting room?" she offered.

  "That would be...wait. Did you call me Queen Phoenix?" I inquired. "I'm not a queen."

  "You are monarchy, Alisha," Lyla reminded. "I'm unsure how much you've discussed with Mr. Phoenix."

  "Atticus," I revealed. "We merely went through some basics but nothing in detail regarding my royal status in conjunction with my monarch status."

  "It'll be explained shortly," she assured me. "As happy as it would make me to give you more details of your rank, it appears as though our guests are becoming rather impatient."

  "Impatient, huh," I muttered.

  "Not good," Saphire noted. "Be on your guard."

  "It's hard to know what to expect when you barely remember yourself." I spoke the comment to myself, but Lyla nodded.

  "I agree with you." She turned and headed to the door, opening it up and gesturing for me to take the step first out of the washroom. "However, the show must go on, and I'm pretty positive you'll be just fine, Alisha. Be yourself."

  "Right," I whispered. "That's the part I need to figure out."

  "Better words of advice would be to follow your instincts and don't second guess when you're pushed into a corner," Lyla offered while I walked past.

  We made our way out, and Lyla turned around to give me a long look up and down. "You're not satisfied with something."

  "How?" I'd been keeping quiet about it, but as much as I adored this dress, the heels, and the rest of the outfit, my after-sex hair was upsetting me.

  "You love when your hair is either in perfect waves, curls, or up in a ponytail, especially after sex," she revealed. I blankly stared at her, unsure of how to ask my next question.

  Her smile only widened. "You do not remember, but we were extremely close friends. I was your maid of honor at your wedding."

  "Oh." Now I felt horrid because here was my apparent best friend and I couldn't remember a moment of any of our shared memories.

  She snapped her fingers and a whirlwind of magic swirled around my neck, travelling upward. When the wind subsided, my long locks were up in a ponytail.

  Before I could attempt to walk back into the room and view my appearance, Lyla clapped her hands and a swirling pool of water sparked into existence and morphed into a floating mirror.

  My stunned eyes viewed my reflection, relief shimmering through me at my now complete look. Deep within, it wasn't merely my hair that was giving me doubts. I hoped to give a good impression to these three other individuals.

  I knew Atticus accepted me. That belief still remained, but with these individuals growing impatient, I'd have to make sure it was worth the wait.

  "Thank you, Lyla." I showed my gratitude with a genuine smile. With a slight bow of my head, I followed up with, "My name is Alisha Butterfly. I apologize for not remembering who you are or how close we were, but your concern for my appearance and overall happiness is much appreciated."

  "Lyla Black," she introduced. "No need to apologize for something out of your control. You've merely forgotten who you were. It doesn't mean that side of you is lost forever. I'm sure you'll rediscover yourself with time. No need to mentally stress over it."

  She paused and reached out to fix the silver butterfly necklace that remained on my neck.

  "I vowed to always be your best friend. Trivial matters like this can be solved. It's only a matter of time. Once we know where we stand in this place, we will strive towards finding the answers we need to locate who did this. Until then, let's entertain these men with our fierceness."

  My lips curled up before I could think about it, and the two of us shared a look of triumph like we'd already won a hidden war. I could tell that it must have been easy to misjudge Lyla, but she, too, wore a mask to hide the truth behind her identity.

  In a world of supernaturals, it was for the best, since everyone wore some sort of mask to protect themselves.

  For good reason.

  "How were you able to use magic like that?"

  "The rules of this prison don't apply to me." She winked.

  "Lucky." I pouted my lips and she giggled quietly.

  The soft sound eased my worries as she sighed.

  "Let's get this show running."

  With a firm nod, we headed to the meeting room. Our heels would give our approach away, but I wasn't worried about that. This had to be over with so we could move on to the priorities.

  If I had to play my part at Psychic Prison so we could buy more time to figure things out, I'd do it. However, I wouldn't play by all their rules unless it benefited me as well.

  Lyla opened the door for me, and I walked three steps into the room before my instincts shot into overdrive.

  My hand swiftly moved up, my fingers spreading out as my nails began to glow a dark magenta. Fizzling energy surged through me until it reached my fingertips and surrounded the five daggers that were darting towards me.

  I
was able to stop four of them, but the fifth one seemed to slip my magnetic grasp. I gritted my teeth and drew as much energy inward as I could, my focus now on the single blade that was seconds from hitting my face.

  Lowering all but my middle finger, I zoomed in on that single finger - all of my energy coursing through it as the blade was about to hit the nail’s surface. The blade slowed as purple magic swirled around it. Tiny sparks of blue electricity surged around the metal blade, stopping it in the nick of time.

  It levitated in place, the sharp tip hitting the tip of my nail. I left my hand in that very position, but I lifted my eyes to the culprit.

  A man of 6'3" height stood four steps in front of me. His back was against the wall, while his slim, muscled arms were crossed over his muscled chest.

  He wore a tight white t-shirt, one with Korean characters designed intricately on the athletic attire, and black joggers that were tight at the waist and ankles, but loose in between. His shoes were white, having similar black characters designed on the sides.

  His hair was long, reaching his lower back, and was sky blue with hints of white. A few strands were floating effortlessly, while his right hand held four more blades between his fingers.

  His orange eyes with gleaming silver pierced mine, but his proud grin only pissed me off.

  "Our little marked one still has good instincts, it seems," he announced with a soft Korean accent. "And she's giving me the middle finger."

  All five of the blades dropped to the floor as I pulled back the energy I'd shot out of protection. How badly I wanted to use one of these blades and slit his throat, but my attention remained on my middle finger, noticing the slight chip on the inner layer of my nail.

  With a few blinks, the nail cracked by itself, the fragments falling to the floor with a level of heaviness that everyone in the room heard.

  Bringing my hand closer to my eye level, I inspected the broken nail, and the mere acknowledgment of its now imperfect surface ignited a whole level of rage.

  This is war.

  The silent voice that drifted into my mind wasn't Saphire. No. This voice spoke only with power, her blazing energy beginning to pour through me and burst out.

  When my eyes locked back onto the culprit of my newfound dilemma, his eyes widened, flooding with terror.

  "Titus? Blaze? I think I need assistance," he squeaked.

  "Alisha, hold-" Atticus tried to stop me, but I was already in front of the man in question, my hand around his neck and his body moving upward with ease as I threw him in the air.

  I sensed the two forces plummeting on either side of me, but that wouldn't pause my determination to get revenge as I completed a single spin of my body that sent heat waves as purple-orange flames burst out of thin air and sent the two individuals who approached me flying back helplessly.

  The man I'd sent upward hovered above, his body wrapped with my purple magic. I dropped to the floor gracefully, slapping the marble tiles with my right hand that was still intact.

  Sharp points of blue blades began to peak out of the floor in multiples of five until 25 sharp blades drifted out from the floor and pointed straight to the man above me.

  I lifted my head up and gave him a cynical grin, one that sent him hollering for help.

  "Shit! Atticus! Stop her before she cuts me into sushi!"

  The giggle that left me would send anyone into a state of sheer worry. If only that pathetic, paid jury could hear the insane giggle that left my glossy lips.

  Then they would have considered putting me in the crazy house for supernaturals.

  The two forces I'd pushed back were racing back at me with full speed, but I flicked my wrist upward and the daggers were released from my hold, heading towards their sole target.

  I spun again, but instead of flames, blue and gold tinged chains shot out of my body, slamming into the two men and wrapping around their large frames.

  Again, I went down on one knee and slammed my right hand to the floor. The chains that now held their targets in a tight grip were called to the ground and forced both men to their knees.

  My body rose back up, ready to finish all three of them, but my right arm began to burn, tugging me out of my killing spree. It was enough of a distraction for my blades to go off course, pinning the man in all the wrong places.

  Ignoring the pain from my arm, I glanced up in pure disappointment at the Korean man who was clearly pinned to the ceiling due to my blades. However none of them pierced his delicate body.

  At least he was still trembling, his fear apparent in those now silver eyes. My eyes noticed his twitching white ears, and only then did I noticed the three massive white tails splattered along the ceiling - their odd shape was due to the blades that missed their white furry surface.

  Hands rested on my shoulders and I looked down to see Atticus.

  No. Phoenix.

  His red eyes were now a dangerous orange with tiny twinkles of red and black. My gaze moved to his left arm, the one that now burned brightly with the tattoo that matched mine.

  "Freya," Phoenix stated in that dominating voice that always got through to me. Through the nights of pleasure and the peaks of utter pain. He understood my wild flames and our furious flames.

  He knows I could kill everyone in this room - including him.

  My hand lifted up and I purposely displayed my middle finger in his face.

  "How are you going to fix this?" My voice was low and thick with menace.

  I couldn't even recognize the tone of my voice, but did it matter? These men had randomly attacked me, and my lack of memory wasn’t going to stop me from finishing them unless this was promised to be fixed.

  Life stuck in prison was already a pain in my ass. No way would I suffer from a broken nail. Overdramatic? Sure. But no way would I live with broken nails as a monarch. It literally did not make sense in my mind.

  His eyes lingered on mine, and I knew he was searching for a connection. He wanted to calm me down, to cause me to resurface, even though this raging side of me was only here temporarily.

  Taking a step forward, I was right in his face.

  "Phoenix." My voice was full of warning. "What will be done about my broken nail? Offer a solution, or I will took it upon myself to kill these three men right this instant. You know I don't need Alisha's permission to do so."

  It felt odd to talk in the third person, but the hot energy pulsing through me was clearly in dominant control. I had to assume this power was Freya, seeing as I still sensed Saphire's calm wisdom trickling through the raging chaos of anger and adrenaline.

  Either way, I wasn't going to stop her from whatever course she was about to take. There was something about broken nails that pissed me off, and I wasn't going to be stuck with it if avoidable.

  "Kai will pay for you to get your nails done," he announced.

  "Hey! I never-"

  He didn't finish as the two of us lifted our heads to give him the most treacherous glare.

  "I'll happily pay for a manicure and pedicure. I'll even get you ice cream."

  "Tiramisu," we said in unison.

  "Sure!" Kai nervously replied, his teeth actually chattering while his forehead was drenched with sweat. A few droplets fell, but they didn't even reach us before they evaporated mid-air.

  I hadn't felt the extreme heat in the room, or realized that my body was exhibiting such warmth. We lowered our heads and went back to our intense stare.

  "When can we get them done?"

  "Today, after our discussion and some rest, unless you want to skip the resting part," he explained. "Whatever you want."

  "Why should I spare them?" Now I was just taunting them, relishing my moment of absolute control.

  "They're the ones who helped me win you, Freya."

  "How kind," I sarcastically muttered. "Yet I walk into a room to be tested like an animal."

  "Kai's fault." The soft voice that came from my right caught my attention.

  The man was still on his knees
with my blue-gold chains wrapped around his milk chocolate body. He was definitely the biggest of the three, his broad shoulders, chest, and biceps emphasizing the amount of muscle he must have gained with daily workout sessions.

  Or genetics.

  He had short hair that was lime green with pink highlights. The combination wasn't your typical hair color, but with its spiked appearance, I could only assume it was a trend or him living his best life.

  His eyes were a soft pink, reminding me of blossoms you'd witness in the heart of Japan. Another random remembrance of the beautiful country, but it would have to wait for when I had some quiet time to myself to delve into that.

  From his complexion, I could only assume he was of African heritage, but the details would remain unknown for now. My lingering eyes were making him nervous, the slight tremble of his body answering my suspicions.

  "Would you like to explain on his behalf?" I offered.

  He slowly nodded. "Atticus was explaining about your amnesia and that we'd have to formulate a plan of how to train you while down here, but Kai wanted to test your abilities first. Atticus refused and Titus over there didn't give a shit."

  As I peered over to the other man in question, his mismatched eyes caught my attention first. His left eye was bright red, just a shade lighter than Atticus's red eyes that sometimes reminded me of blood. His right eye was black.

  Again, his height was hard to predict with him on his knees, but I could safely assume he'd be the tallest out of everyone in the room.

  His hair was shoulder-length onyx, with a few silver strands on his right side. I wondered if he had the strands of silver there to help his black eye pop out in comparison to his red.

  He wasn't as slim as Kai but was just as muscled as the rest of them. He had a guardedness about him, giving me the impression you'd need more than one key to unlock his true nature.

  He remained quiet, even as my eyes bore into his.

  "And you?" My question was directed at the pink-eyed male.

  "I suggested we asked what you were comfortable with, but before we could agree, the owl shifter opened the door."

  Lyla was quietly standing near the closed door, observing everything with a blank expression. She’d probably sat this one out to see what my response would be.