Leaning forward, Hope bent her arms as she struggled to see who was beyond the bars that imprisoned her. She didn't see anyone, not directly at least, but she could hear something. A sluggish, dragging sound followed by a subtle thump.
Footsteps? What was this, Jurassic Park?
Should she look for a puddle of water for the ring of an impending earthquake?
Pouting, she looked up at the ceiling where her chains were fastened well into the stone above. A tumult of questions pounded her head like hail on concrete.
How long had she been out?
Did the others know she was gone?
How the fuck did that bitch turn her mind off like that?
This wasn't second grade; she'd far surpassed the ability to keep people out of her head. Maybe it was a new form of muscle memory she would have to learn—like she did when learning with Freya to keep witches out of her head.
Furrowing her brow, she curled her lip and sighed to herself. The dream visitor had said he was in her mind, so did that mean he could hear and see everything she did?
Pulling her wrists apart, she tried to at least bend the metal a little to give herself some wriggle room—they didn't budge. Damn, how strong was the metal here?
"Hey," she whispered, "mind…worm…. dreamer guy." As she spoke in hushed tones, she began crawling up the chain like the rope in a middle school gym. "Just a quick question," she panted, nearing the top, "how the hell did she put me down like that? I mean, not to brag, but I would have liked to think I was a little stronger than someone calling themselves 'Gut'."
A disembodied voice rang through her head, and she froze.
Your mind has not yet become accustomed to this new world. If you mean to overpower it, you will need to adapt.
Hope's eyes widened, "So, you can hear me… Do you know everything that I do?"
I can see and hear anything I wish to, but I am not always listening, no.
Pondering his answer for a moment, she parted her lips to ask another question.
No, I did not…tune in during your…relation with the other.
"Good to know," Hope pressed her hand against the ceiling, trying to crumble away the stone that held her. "You watch what we all do?"
I can, but I don't. I find you to be much more…interesting.
"Aw," Hope replied, "I'm flattered."
And she was, kind of. Though it was still strange to have something in her head like this. Someone, she supposed. When her fingers failed to claw away the rock that kept her chained, she closed her eyes and breathed a sigh, relaxing her body. She let herself feel the vibration of magic in the air—tasted it on her tongue. Then, with a push of her hand, she slid through the stone like butter and took hold of the hooks buried deep beneath. She pulled them out, but the elation of being freed was gone when she realized, in that split second, that nothing was holding her up anymore.
She didn't get a chance to say anything as she plummeted to the stone before, smacking against it with such force she felt and heard her bones snap on impact.
Releasing her held breath, she coughed a bit of blood and said, "I'm good."
There was no response; her little worm dreamer was probably pissed at how 'well' she took care of her body. In her defense, she'd had worse before, and to be plain, she'd stopped caring a long time ago.
"Sorry, never was a good host."
After a moment of reprieve, Hope pushed herself off the cave floor and stretched her limbs. What she really needed was blood, and a lot of it. Sighing, she limped toward the gate and touched the lock. She let it squirm in her palm before it fell to the floor and melted into the stone—the door swung open, and she stepped out.
"You!"
The heavy voice cried out, and Hope looked up to see her captor. A troll, she imagined, stood before her, almost as tall as the ceiling. Her eyes widened as she charged her, but Hope dove to the side. Something this big, she wasn't going to be able to rely on her body alone.
Hope closed her eyes and focused on the sound of her heart, loud and slow. It was massive, but manageable. She hummed a quiet spell, "Corum spiritus prohibera." And listened, the heart that had already been quite slow, slowed even further. Hope listened to the gasping, rasping noise of the troll trying to get air into her lungs, but she didn't stop her concentration, despite the sound of knocking into walls and furniture before landing with a thunderous crash to the floor.
Soon, the heartbeat stopped altogether, and Hope opened her eyes. Less than ten feet away, the troll stared back at her with lifeless eyes, forever caught in the last moment of her death.
"I'd apologize, but I need all the strength I can get," Hope murmured, carefully approaching, "and are the ones that imprisoned me, after all."
She toed one of the limp fingers and pursed her lips. The feast before her did not seem appetizing in the least, but beggars couldn't be choosers, and Hope needed all the energy she could get. Her eyes darkened, yellowing the iris as veins crawled down her cheeks and her fangs split her gums.
A low, hungry growl rumbled in the back of her throat as she leaned down and sank her fangs into the carotid—desperate to drink while the blood was still warm.
Hope fed until she was satisfied, then she pulled away, still on her knees as she gasped. Drips of crimson stained her shirt, but she didn't bother with that. No one batted an eye at extra blood around here.
While it didn't taste as nicely as she'd like, it wasn't the worst she'd tasted either. Leaning back on her heels, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and sighed.
"Hm, thanks friend," she smiled and patted her lifeless arm as she stood to her feet. "If you'll excuse me, I think…I'm going to spill Gut's guts."