Seventy three

OLAMIDE

The air stung my nostrils as my senses returned. My eyes were misty and my eyes were blank for a moment. I heard a voice. They sounded distant yet so dangerously close. As my breath slowed, I made out two figures hovering over me.

"She's awake." One of them muttered. "Told you my vampires were gentle. Now, begin the ritual."

I could see a bit more clearly but only when I squinted my eyes enough. The room was dark and I would be blanketed by the darkness if there weren't a few red candles scattered across the room. My memories came back hazy. I remembered being chased by that witch. The one who had attacked Jason. I remembered how he told me to run. I had obeyed despite hating the entirety of his being. My legs had done their best but they weren't enough. Someone caught me. Something caught me. I remembered how the creature with pitch-black eyes slammed me against a tree then my entire world turned dark.

I sensed my claustrophobia about to kick in, afraid that, for all I knew, I could be in some sort of extremely enclosed space, but the cold, airy feel of the room soon assured me that I was not. But I was not safe. As the women parted ways, I attempted to move. But upon doing so, I soon realized that the lack of lighting and the kidnap were the least of my concerns. For one thing, I was bound with strong ropes on my wrists and ankles.

I could barely even raise my arms without requiring a considerable amount of effort. I tried to pull against my ropes. In hopes that they were something old my captors pulled from a shed or their basement. Tremors showered over me as I tugged the ropes apart. My fastened hands pulsed and I winced as I felt the sharp pain slowly become dull. I was injured. They hadn't been gentle with the restraints and that spelled that my life did not entirely matter.

"Don't try to struggle." The woman from before warned. She walked up to me with a clay bowl the size of a teacup. There was a brush dancing at the edge of it and it was filled to the brim with a thick dark liquid that resembled blood in the dim light. A few feet from me was another bound victim. A man who laid unconscious as he dangled from a rope. His feet barely touched the floor and his palms where the ropes were fastened on to bled crimson. His hair, wet and slick covered half his face but I didn't miss the monolids hidden behind his hair and that familiar chin. The witch kneeled before me and began to paint on the floor.

"Satake?" I muttered.

She stopped hearing me say Satake's name. Slowly, her gaze drifted towards mine. "You know him?" She asked.

I gritted my teeth just looking at her. "What do you want from us?" I demanded and before she could reply. I added. "I have no relations with Jason. If it's revenge you want, you are going about it the wrong way. I mean nothing to him."

The witch leaned in. "I do not seek revenge. I only seek restoration."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

The witch's eyebrow shot up. It was as if my reply surprised her. She paused for a moment and continued drawing her sigils. As I stared on, I noticed in the middle where I sat, was a sigil that looked more like a butterfly of some sort. What the hell was this woman doing, I wondered. I looked across the room to where Satake was tied up, a similar sigil was below him connected by a series of interlocking circles and one straight line that connected to my side.

"Answer me!" I demanded.

The woman flinched. It was momentarily but my outburst freaked the shit out of her. Her bloody artwork was not messed up, however. The woman who I believed was Yasmin, tossed the stained brush back into the clay pot before she looked me dead in the eye. "You really are clueless about the power you carry." She said.

"What power?" I demanded again.

The woman leaned closer, her breath heated against my ear yet it sent chill as she spoke.."The attribute of fate. The blessing of Moirai. The power to make and unmake. All that power and it is all in your blood."

"I– think you made a mistake. I am human...I am ordinary as they get."

The woman picked up her brush and continued her sigils once again but this time, she did honor a conversation. "I was certain you were putting up an act in front of your mate." The witch began. "It's why I even bothered to involve the vampires in the first place. Fate is a powerful thing but in the body of a mortal, even the power to change one's destiny has its limit. I wondered why it was so easy to take you but I guess I have my answer now."

"W–hat answer?"

"Contrary to what I believed, you were not born with the attribute. It was probably inherited."

My fears were replaced by a wave of unbridled anger. What was wrong with this world? Why was every being without a shred of humanity in them? Was this how their world worked? Survival of fittest, senseless murders, and betrayals. Just succumbing to the thought of it all brought a tear to my eye.

"So who gave it to you?" Yasmin continued. "A friend. A stranger?"

"I have no idea what you are talking about..."

"They made you forget." She suddenly muttered.

"Who?"

"Your parents."

The vein in my neck bobbed and I completely lost it. I jumped to my feet despite having no balance and cannoned my head towards Yasmin's face with the sole aim of bashing it. I refused to let her into my head. I refused to let anyone fuck with my mind for the second time. Yasmin merely raised a finger and the view in front of me changed. In seconds the sight of a stunned woman shifted into the shape of a distorted butterfly artwork that seemed to have been done by Picasso. My head slammed into the floor causing my brain to rattle. There has been a tiny flaw in my myopic quest for vengeance. I had forgotten that my captor was a witch. A powerful one at that.

"My parents are dead." I winced. "Don't try to therapize me. If I am here, you probably want to kill me. Get it over with and stop trying to mess with my head. Or does that add to the thrill of taking innocent lives?"

"Of course not," Yasmin said, standing to her feet. "We Maplewoods have the unique ability to see protective spirits and yours happens to be your parents. They are by your side because they have a secret. One they think it's time they reveal to you in this dire situation. Your mom feels hopeless. She has done everything to protect you and your brother. But even with the coin constantly flipped to favor you, it wasn't enough." Yasmin then walked off for a moment. As soon as she was out of sight, hot tears streamed my face. It was probably a lie she told to weaken my resolve but her words held truth in them. Fate has been cruel. Neither the coin nor the odds were ever in my favor and when I decided to flick the universe a middle finger and take control in the only way I knew how to, I still failed miserably. A comforting hand pressed into my shoulder while another wiped the terms off my face. I hopelessly stared into the woman's eyes. The brown eyes flickered with genuine pity and it was probably not an act. These people were beyond twisted and demented.

"You might be dying tonight but you also deserve one good thing and I believe that lost memory can grant you peace." Her hands wandered to my chest. She pressed her palm lightly into my chest and whispered, "Goddess Hecate, maiden, mother, crone, as a source of thy power, I wish on thee. Decipher the laws of nature and sew the fractured memories."

The world seemed to scream to all my senses. My heart threatened to stop and the scenery in front of me glitched. It was like it has been while I peeked into Jason's memories. The only difference this time was that a pounding headache ensued as reality seemed to bend.

I looked below and noticed my hands were free. However, they were much smaller than I remembered. Before I could register the crazy things that were occurring all at once, another hand latched on to mine and pulled me close.

"Olamide," My mother told me. "I'll protect you."

This isn't real. I told myself. This could not be real, I convinced myself.