Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-10789912-20160103075745

Saint Michael
"Open your eyes, kiddo." said the seemingly cautious and troubled voice of a man.

Natalie was cold, even freezing. She could feel the rough stone beneath her digging into her bear knees, and cold metal around her wrists, holding her arms into the air. Though she could feel everything, her eyelids were heavy and closed tightly.

She opened them, forcing them to quickly adjust to the room around her. As images formed in front of her, she could see a single man. She jolted in shock, but her hands were shackled to the ceiling, and her legs were weak.

Guessing he was just under six feet tall, she could see he was wearing a dark brown heavy coat, the kind you'd expect someone on an expedition to wear, fur around the hood included. Thick black pants and gloves to match, his hood was down. she could just make out his short, parted brown hair. He had stubble in place of a beard and mustache, and didn't appear to have shaven recently. He had both the hilt of a machete, and but of a rifle coming from his back.

The man held both of his hands towards her as he spoke, to keep her calm.

"Listen, you're in a very bad situation. I'm here to help you get out. You have a lot to catch up on before I release your chains, so we can avoid an incident."

She simply looked back at him both curiously, and in fear. He continued.

"You've been in this facility twice before. You're in Panthalassa once more."

"Panthalassa?" she asked, trying to keep her shaking minor to avoid rattling the chains.

"You don't know of Panthalassa? With someone with as much experience as you in it, I'd assumed you'd worked that out. In short, Panthalassa is Enki's realm. When he has someone he wants to hunt, or someone he needs in isolation, he transports them here. Every time you'd entered the facility, you were in Panthalassa."

"Wait, I'm back here?! You don't mean-"

Her raising voice was cut off my the man's hand over her lips.

"Yes, you're here once more. Your child was born, Natalie. This facility exists for the sole purpose of you raising your child in the way deemed necessary. You had your mind taken from you, and a friend broke the control. He chained you up so that you wouldn't panic and run, along with forcing you to remain unconscious until I arrived."

She spoke through her muffled voice beneath his hand until he moved it.

"It was designed for that? Then Joseph was my fault..."

"No, the blame falls on many things, none of them being you. Jackson is an entirely different topic, kid. We really need to get the hell out of here."

She nodded in agreement, as the man leaned forward and examined the chains around her wrist. As he leaned forward, she could see the machete and 30 aught 6 on his back were held on by makeshift sheaths from some sort of leather.

"Why are you helping me? You went through a lot of trouble. Are you some sort of saint?" she asked greatfully.

"I'm definitely not a saint. I've done more twisted things than you could imagine, kid."

"I can imagine some very twisted things."

"Keep imagining."

She felt her right hand release from the brace around her wrist. As he moved to her left hand, the man kept talking.

"My name's Michael Asher. If you wanted to know why I was helping you, we'd need a damn long time to explain it, and time is something we don't have. Just know that when you're out of here, I'm giving you your life back. You're going home, and all of this will be over."

"You're giving me my normal life back?"

"Mhmm," he answered. "Your privacy, dignity, life-"

The cuff around her wrist came apart, freeing her from the chain.

"And your freedom." Michael added.

Natalie felt her wrists, rubbing them and soothing the tense pain. When she felt ready, she began to stand. Stumbling at first, Michael stretched one arm out to make sure she didn't fall, re-balancing her. Once she gained her footing, she spoke.

"How long have I been controlled?"

Michael waited a brief moment.

"It's November twenty-seventh."

"November twenty-seventh?!" she repeated, the color draining from her face.

"I took some time to prepare for this. I've survived in Panthalassa since the end of April. The same month you were taken."

"I don't understand... how do you know so much about me?"

"I know your name is Natalie Sutton. I know you live in Tutelo on Highpoint street. I know you are currently seventeen years old, and I know that this world itself wants you dead, now that you're able to think properly. So, if you don't mind, can we get going now, or would you like to stay here, becoming the postmortal trophy wife of a random creature out of your nightmares?" he snapped at her.

She didn't bother saying anything more. Her head was a vicious storm of questions, but she had to find the calm. For the time being, that is. She stayed quite, and took a step towards Michael.

"Good," he continued. "Through this door, you listen to everythign I say. This is survival or fates worse than death. We won't have time for second thoughts."

His eyes kept track of her with eagle-like pride and dominance, asserting himself as her only hope.

"If you can really give me my life back... everything I had before all of this, I can't think of anything I'd want more."

Michael looked down, breaking his stare. A smile began to creep its way up his right cheek, before his face reset.

"It's a promise." 