'He called me princess and kept the monsters at bay...' surely this had to be another one of those nightmares where she would wake up to him tenderly stroking her hair and offering a glass of warm milk. Myriah grabbed onto any type of denial that she could, trying to shield her mind and her heart. 'This has to be a dream…. A horribly scary dream from reading 'Unwind' so late again. It has to be some sort of…' the electricity of the bars In front of her told her that this was, in fact, very real. But Myriah still couldn't bring herself to look into the eyes of the man In front of her.
'It's an imposter, it has to be. This is not my father…' she thought, she prayed…
'The man who raised me would never let something like this happen to me…'
The electricity reminded her that her attempts to dissociate from the situation were futile at best. Myriah slowly looked down to her hands which were gripping the bars so tight, her knuckles were turning white. Yet her mind wasnt registering the pain. She felt a dizzy spell that made her body sway. Any rational explanation she had prepared herself for evaporated.
'I don't understand …why i am in this cage with electric bars that are burning me.' She couldn't think of a single thing that could be wrong with her that her own father was looking at her as if she were less than nothing… Myriah shook her head as she tried for her composure in favor of the denial she was so desperate for moments ago. 'It seams that I must fight to save myself.'
'But… This is the man who raised me... to even think of harming him has to be a sin of some sort right?'
Myriah looked up at him slowly.
"I will always protect you, little princess."
Perhaps… 'perhaps he will remember that i am his little girl and he…' Myriah shook the thought away. 'It's doubtful at best.' Before she could dismiss her notion of escaping, a dark voice intruded her mind. It was a guttural, monotonous voice that mocked her. The voice gave way to horrible images of people being tortured and raped. Of hands gripping the bars in front of her to the point of unconsciousness. Myriah reached for her chest which started to ache.
Her eyes widened further if possible. 'How… I've not been alive more than 16 years… how…?' Her jaw dropped as she saw the raids and the attacks; she saw the many many innocent lives that continued to be taken...
'How can I see this? Are these thoughts? Memories? Dreams? Desires?' Myriah tried to shake the thoughts from her head, but she was frozen, 'Or... is this a vision of my own future? Daily torture and various pains….?' Wide, unseeing lavender eyes looked around the cell she was in to see the double sided mirror.
Alexander Whitman watched the girl in the cage closely. His aging brown eyes took in her every movement. He dared to admit that he felt a twinge in his heart when she took hold of the electric bars in front of her. Part of him questioned what he was doing… until he felt the air around him begin to hum with raw energy. Brown eyes watched Myriah who was still lost in her own world, surely this couldn't have been such a shock… Alexander Whitman gasped as he was plunged into another time…
***
(2017)
A woman with a rounded belly sat on the floor next to her cot, watching the double sided mirror. Silent tears streaked down her cheeks as she cradled her belly. The woman prayed. She looked at the window where she saw the four men arguing. One was facing two huge guards, ready to fight his way through. The thought filled her bitter heart with hope.
'Thank you, young man…' she prayed as the two scientists who since entered her cell each took one of her arms. The woman gathered the last of her strength and she struggled against them. Her last conscious thought was of her baby.
Would the baby be a boy with his fathers looks? Would they be a girl with hers? She fought for all she was worth until she was thrown into her cot, where a loud crack sounded followed by a nasty snapping sound. The woman, now feeling nothing slowly looked to the blood that leaked from between her legs. Her ice colored eyes found the scientists eyes though the window.
"Uṅkaḷ pāvaṅkaḷukku nīṅkaḷ paṇam celuttuvīrkaḷ. (you will pay for your sins.)" she promised as her fingertips found the red liquid that spilled from her body. She blindly felt until she found her baby, with its head bent in grotesquely. The neck was twisted at a horrid angle. The baby, tiny and under developed, resembled a mangled doll more than the new life that it was supposed to be.
Soft broken wails escaped the mangled baby's parted lips. Withered limbs slowly moved, searching.
The woman cooed and gathered her baby into her arms, blind to the two scientists trying to stop her bleeding. "Eṉatu kaṭaici nērattil nāṉ inta kōpurattai viṭṭu viṭukiṟēṉ (in my last hour I leave this dower)." She whispered. "Uṅkaḷ irattattiṉ vāḻkkai atikārattil pātikkappaṭukiṟatu (the life of your blood will suffer in power.)" The sight of the dying woman trying to nurse to dead baby was a terrifyingly grotesque replacement of its beautiful and wholesome counterpart.
Alexander Whitman felt a heaviness in the air as he watched the woman who held his gaze. "… Uṅkaḷukkum uṅkaḷ irattattiṟkum oru cāpam (a curse on you and your blood)." Whitman watched the light leave the woman's eyes. Though she didn't let go of the mangled baby in her arms, she died holding onto Alexander Whitman's gaze….
'A curse…'
***
Alexander Whitman gasped as he found himself facing a golden eyed Myriah who was standing in the middle of her cell. Next to the cot. She was standing in the exact spot where the woman in the dream passed.
"T-this was her cell…" the golden eyed girl whispered. She was stricken, "This- th- this was…" she couldn't finish the sentence as she was taken to the red nightmare from when she was a little girl…. "This was-" Her wide, terrified eyes found his and Alexander Whitman took an involuntary step back at the maddened expression on her face. Her golden eyes were wide and filled with fear. Raw, unharnessed fear that that threatened to consume him as well.
The aging scientist blindly reached for the taser in his left pocket. For the first time in his life since the cruel torments of his own father, Alexander dared to say he felt fear gripping his heart with familiarly ice cold fingers. He felt the souls leave his body when Myriah spoke for the first time in what seamed like hours:
"…I've been here before…haven't I?"