Page 107 of Unkindness of Crimson Ravens

“Drink the water, Cordelia.” His head fell as though he was ashamed of the offer.

“Where am I?” I demanded; my voice was as sharp as briar.

“Home.”

I shook my head. “What have you done?”

Caleb sighed, “I am doing what is best for you. Please drink the water before you lose consciousness again.”

My blood was on fire when I made my way toward the man. Grabbing the glass of water from his hands, I emptied it on his head.

My fingers toyed with the hair pin, studying its every curve. My heart whined and wailed, mourning my loss, yet the tears did not come. As though someone ripped my heart out of my chest, I stared at it in disgust, unable to feel its loud screams.

Perhaps she is alive. Perhaps the Royal family was notified of the attack and hid. Perhaps my siblings were safe.My mind tried to argue, yet my heart knew the gruesome fate I was unable to prevent.

My heart knew the gruesome fate awaiting me as well and I had already accepted it. I had accepted my coming end, and was grateful for such an outcome, for it would be my greatest punishment and my only salvation.

Perhaps an hour, perhaps a week had passed: I had no way of knowing. The cell did not have a window, not even a small crack to the outside world.

Whenever I woke there was a glass of water waiting for me on the floor by the bars. I poured the water out every single time.

Every single time except now.

I cared not if there was poison in the glass, I cared not if it was going to kill me. I emptied out the glass, satisfying my thirst.The thirst that had started to make me see the spiders crawling down my hands, yet when I tried to brush them off, my hands were met with nothingness.

The thirst that made me hear the orchestra playing loud and clear, yet I knew I was far from any life: deep down in the ground, in a Royal dungeon. It must have been at least a few nights I spent in the cell then.

Water satisfied my mind, yet it did nothing to the aching pain I felt in my throat. I needed blood.

My trembling hands stretched out toward the empty glass. My breathing quickened in anticipation. I hit the glass against the bars, breaking it into small pieces. The prickling in my throat hardened.

A broken piece of glass slid across my wrist, leaving a road of crimson behind it. My lips desperately covered my own flesh.

I sucked on the wound, yet the pain in my throat just increased. I drank and drank, but my own blood was no better than water.

“It won’t work,” the voice came from behind me, freezing me in place. “Although, I have to say, it was a clever idea.”

I turned to look at my intruder. “What are you doing, Caleb?” I sent him an accusatory look. “What happened to my family?”

“I am just following my orders.” He sat across from me. “From night one I was just following my orders. You don’t understand it yet, Cordelia, but this is for your own good.”

“What do you meanfrom night one?” I ignored his remark about how being locked in a cell was for my own good.

Caleb let out an exhausted sigh before replying, “I am your creator, Cordelia.”