The water is freezing upon touching my skin. It is so cold that it is almost burning up at the same time. The pain is agitating as the water digs deep into my skin, slicing into every inch of my body. 

I want to cry out in agony, let every small bit of pinched-up pain out into the depths of this hell, but I cannot. My voice is caught in my throat, and my limbs are stuck next to my sides. What I would do to wake up and take in a gulp of air is beyond a need; I need to do absolutely anything. 

Suddenly, something starts to pull at my throat. It feels like sandpaper is being dragged down my esophagus and rubbed up and against the lining of my entire mouth. I can feel my hands, heavily, lift to aid my suffering mouth. The pain quickly becomes unbearable as I just want to gulp down a tub of water. 

Funny, I could be drinking the water right here, but is it even water? Am I just stuck so deep in my own subconscious that it is pulling me awake for some hideous dream? Or is this real life, and I am simply waiting for the moment for the sun to hit my skin, and I can take Mama in a big hug? 

I can feel myself chuckle. Life being fair to me? Really now, since when does that ever happen? I would gladly take the person who is playing me like a puppet and wrap my strings around them, strangling them and watching them bleed out on the ground. Violent, I am aware. 

Never have I considered myself to be so bitter and cold towards the one that wields my fate in their hands. Yet, as of lately, I ponder why this deck of cards was given to me. Is it that difficult to be treated more than some low-life scum that only matters when the collector comes around? I know I am something more; perhaps fate has a different plan for me. Perhaps, this is supposed to happen.

So, why am I angry? For hatred boils through my veins as I feel the bitter sensation of bile climb through my throat. I want to thrash around and scream obscenities to everyone who has ever wronged me, but, alas, I cannot. For that is not how my path has been woven; it is for something uncertain, like walking through the abyss. 

The water that surrounds me is starting to fade away; the feeling of air caressing the skin that has been soaked under for so long is a relief. Yet, the heat of anger climbs through my heart, boiling through my chest and out into the wild. I can feel myself slowly start to become untangled from this mess that I have sat through for so long. Is this the feeling of freedom? Am I finally going to taste that small bit of power that I have, undeniably, wanted for so long? 

As I untangle myself from the chains of my mind, I notice the hunger that arrives at my lips. It has felt like ages since I have eaten something, and I cannot help but feel this cloud in my head the longer that I continue to jar myself awake.

Alas, I can step out of my own head and let the light of the candles hit my eyes. I am still groggy, but I allow myself to look around the room of an old cabin. It oddly looks familiar, too familiar. Only then do I realize that this is where Madam Zornem lives; I want to panic, but I also do remember that, perhaps, she might be on my side. 

My body shivers with a dull pain as my head lifts from the small couch I rest along. My eyes catch Madam Zornem reading a book and sipping a cup of what I assume to be, tea. I lift my head up to realize there is a blistering headache that is spreading along the entirety of my head.

"Fucking hell," I whisper as my hand reaches to soothe the pounding in my forehead. As soon as I catch a glimpse of my hand, however, I let out a deafening shriek. I am sure the kingdom of Algora can hear me from over here.

"What in the bloody Gala is this? I do not remember my hand being like this in my entire lifetime. Was it you? Did you do this?" my accusations make Madam Zornem chuckle as she puts a marker in the book. She heads over to the stove to pour another cup of tea. Throwing a bit of mixture in there she trots over to me as I quiet down and stare at my hands.

They are claws. Hell, I am not even sure if that is the right word to use. Black veins stretch down my arms as my hands start to turn black at the fingertips. Each nail is sharpened to a sword's edge and is a jagged three inches in length. 

Madam Zornem sits on a chair next to the couch and hands me the cup of tea. I at first recoil at the thought of taking any possession from her overall vicinity, but the smell lures me out of doubt. The aroma of the tea is sweet, almost intoxicating. I can feel my mouth watering at the taste as I grab the cup and take small sips, attempting to preserve as much of the heavenly liquid that remains. For the smoothness glides down my throat, and the way it corals the tip of my teeth makes the water that fogs my mind starts to unwind. 

I see the claws start to retract and the black veins starting to disappear. I glance to Madam Zornem, wanting to say something witty or damning, but it is hard to admit that this is exactly what I have been wanting, even if I did not know it. 

"I figured you were hungry."

"What is this?" I place the cup down on the side table beside me. Despite the urge to go back for more of the heavenly liquid, I push the temptations aside. 

"Eastern boar blood."

"Blood?" I want to throw up as my eyes rush from teacup to her; is she trying to poison me? My back straightens out as I pop onto my feet, wanting to escape out of the cabin. Surely this is a trap of some sort; she is going to force blood down my throat until I go mad. For the love of Gala, I can feel the effects already; I am going to become a mindless beast that is going to terrorize this city. 

"Would you calm down, Alice? For the love of everything, I am not going to poison you or whatever you are thinking. Didn't Asmodeus mention what your main food source was to be? It is extremely like being a vampire." 

"So now you're calling me a bloody vampire."

"Alice, I swear to the gods you better stop interrupting me. You are a strigoi. You know that you have forty, well thirty-nine, rotations to kill whoever technically killed you, or else your deal will be sealed." 

I take in a deep breath and sit back down, hesitantly. Something deep within my soul knows that she wants to help me, but the little voice in the back of my head keeps my walls guarded. 

"Where am I supposed to start? Why did I even accept this deal?" I toss my head in my hands and let out a nervous fit of laughter. It is dry, humorless.

"Do you really not remember this?"

"For the love of Gala, I wouldn't be absolutely horrified if I were aware of this. My mind is simply just ... foggy." I place the teacup down on the nearby table and push a hand to the temple of my forehead. My head throbs slightly as I can only let out a staggered breath. 

"What happened to me? I remember the potion, the man, but that is it. Wait," I freeze for a moment as my eyes widen and a shade of panic strikes down my spine. The feeling of lightning ignites in my stomach as a flash of white blinds my sight. For I vaguely remember the feeling of death, the rotten smell of despair lingers in my mind. 

"You struck a deal with death, Alice. You gave your soul, and he gave you an opportunity to find your killer. I am here to help you, but you need to trust me. If you do not then you will be stuck in the underworld, forever."

My face lip wavers, and I let out a choked cough. My eyes burn with tears as realization starts to sink in; I remember this. Perhaps not all of it, but I remember enough. Wait a moment, what happened to Kyler? Is he okay?

"Is Kyler, okay? Where is he?"

"He's okay, back in the castle resting. Asmodeus managed to create a facade well enough to distract the guards and mages."

"Asmodeus?"

"The gargantuan being with the cane who proposed the deal to you." 

I nod my head as my mind flashes back to those intimidating red eyes. Despite their glare, the anger that welled within them, they felt tame, gentle, familiar even. But, why? 

I cross my arms as I sit down against the couch, glancing towards the new attire. I am no longer dressed in that over-the-top white dress, rather I wear a simple black dress with thin straps. Candid yet free. 

"Where do we start? What about Mama?" 

"Your mom is fine, but there is a slight issue." 

"What?" My voice was deep, dripping with worry as my eyesight seems to sharpen suddenly. I could feel blood dripping from my lip, and I go to touch my chin, removing it. My heart yearns to go to Mama. 

"Relax, Alice. You will only drive yourself insane." I take in a long, deep breath and put a hand to my chest, attempting to calm down. I shake my head and hold my hands against my temples allowing the taste of blood to go away, the gnawing against my throat still lingers and I can feel myself let up a cough. For the love of Gala, it feels like I am dying. Well, I am already dead anyway.

"You can't go see your mom for a while."

"Why?"

Madam Zornem shakes her head and pushes her hand to aid the bridge of her nose. The way her lip trembles and her shoulders fall, it signifies nothing good. This only makes the feelings within my stomach bubble anxiously; my eyes widening and my mind racing like stallions on a track. 

"Because she --- she is ..." the madam pauses and takes in a deep breath," she's been captured by the king."