CHAPTER 86

The first thing which came into Amelia’s mind when she began to wake up fully was the acute chronic pain she was experiencing all over her body. Her eyelids were so swollen, that for a moment she tried to pry them open and they wouldn’t budge. The atmosphere around her was highly charged and the smell of the air approaching a certain rankness – the smell of mold, dirt, and general disuse. Before Amelia could get too comfy, the guards could hear the sounds of Amelia struggling to wake up, suddenly she realized that she was not in her bed at home. 

 

 After a great deal of struggle, she was able to open them and in doing so she realized she was in the middle of a nightmare. It felt like Hell, a cold, unkind, perishable iron wall, enclosed in a frame around her, where she could hardly even move her arms. Past the bars, there were thick rough-walled walls with their surface hardly dry and overgrown with shades of green mold. 

 

 Fear struck Amelia’s heart as her thoughts started working at top speed to figure out what could have led her to the current terrible predicament. The last thing she recollects to have done was fighting a losing battle against Ema rogues, At that moment she appears to have woken up in what could be best described as a dungeon and did not know how she got there. 

 

 Gradually regaining her consciousness, Amelia realized that she felt the heat throbbing through her veins. It was a sensation that she had never felt in a previous moment – a burning feeling that was spreading from the inside of her body. She opened her eyes wide in shock to find a small pipe going through her sleeves and connected to a vile containing a vile-looking purple solution. The scent emanating from it was unmistakable: wolfsbane which Ema would have gotten her hands on.

 

 Utter panic surged in Amelia’s chest for the first time since the attack with an understanding of her position. There is no hope for the hybrid, a vampire-werewolf, from the poison of Wolfsbane and there was no way that she would survive from it. The man, or men, who had imprisoned her must be aware of the effects of the herb – this used to keep her so fragile and submissive.



Amelia’s wonder became a mix of fear as much as her adrenaline was rushing for her to comprehend the situation she was in. Wolfsbane was lethal to both vampires and werewolves and as a half-breed, she was even more vulnerable to the plant. Ema had chosen the herb well, and whoever had ensnared her in the time previous to her waking up in that room had used it well to keep her debased and broken. 

 

 Fighting the overwhelming exhaustion that tried to drag her back to sleep, Amelia tried to find at least the hint about something that could help her to come out of this prison. The lower part of the castle had never seen daylight and was lit only by torches on the walls which created the shadows of witchcraft on the floor. There was the odor of sweat, suffocated breath and the look of dismay which indicated that she was not the first detainee to be imprisoned in that terrible place. 

 

 Amelia began to ease her eyes towards the gloom to see other cages side by side with the wall of the dungeon. Many of them had their doors wide open as if their owners’ mouths were wide open in the freezing air; only a few had their occupants still curled up and indistinct in the dark. Were they other supernaturals like her, or people who were simply in the wrong place at the wrong time? 

 

 And then there was a low scratching sound – in the darkness, Amelia flinched away from the metal railing of her prison. The sound of heavy boots met the floor, the silence of clothes and the distinct odor of a wolf followed. From the darkness two persons appeared, the faces of which were ill-lit by the fluctuating torchlight. 

 

 When they finally got close enough to see who it was, Amelia groaned because one of the dark figures was all too familiar. ‘It was Ema, her childhood friend and the person she used to share all her secrets with. ’ Their eyes met and there was something more than a hostile glare in Ema’s expression; it was far from concern, far from compassion; instead what she saw was determination, pure ruthlessness even a certain sort of strength, trying so hard to hide the selfish and wicked aspect of her life.


 

 By Ema’s side, there was a man of impressive build wearing a black hood. Despite the man wearing a mask, Amelia felt there was so much energy and power coming from this person. It was as if the very air he and Ema moved in was electric with specifically bottled-in tension and Amelia had a feeling of shying inside each time they were nearby. 

 


‘Well, well, well,’ the hooded figure said, but the dark tone of the voice made Amelia shiver. “Hey, getting up at last. I do hope that you like your new home here, hybrid. ” 

 

 Amelia tried to clear her throat, but it was sore, it was extremely difficult to speak. “Who… who are you?” she was barely able to say; though her voice was shaky, the words felt like a rebuff to free her from the confines of her own body. 

 

 The sword similarly being ready to strike at any moment for the hooded figure a low rumble of laughter escaped his lips, the sound of it an eerie haunt in the dungeons. ‘

"Now you have no need to know who I am, girl You just need to understand that this reign of abomination will end with me. ’ 

 

 Amelia looked confused and she was – but this was mixed with the emotion of fear. It was not until the moment when the stranger called her an ‘abomination,’

 

 ‘Even your existence is a sin!’ The figure in the hood stepped forward and glared at the cage. ”As far as I’m concerned, vampires and werewolves were never to be seen together. You are an outsider, an enemy to the equilibrium that two species have established for as long as the appearances can be depended on. ” 

 

 Amelia’s look turned to her friend Ema and the silent begs for her to say something, to make her comprehend why this was happening. Still, Ema did not change her face even a little, the eyes filled with the ice-cold glare. 

 

 “Ema,” Amelia said, bending her head to cover her weeping face her voice trembling with sorrow. ’ 

 

 Then, in a small glint that seemed like interest but might have been remorse or a concept akin to remorse, Ema’s gaze lingered on him. But it was as fleeting as it was and sudden and quickly it was replaced by a cold determination. “Yes, Amelia I am sorry,” She said in a cold tone that felt a chill go down her spine. ‘But this goes beyond friendship; the lives of our entire community are on the line,’ 

 

 The hooded figure who stood slightly behind her put a hand on her shoulder, it was as if he were their father. “You have been a good child, I am proud of you When a child helps the werewolves, he or she will not be left hungry. ”