Page 13 of Ravage

Maybe they can't. Maybe Lilydale is just too good this time. Maybe they are too strong for the infamous Cirque des Morts.

As little demons appear in my vision, swarming around Dr. Cromwell's feet, I manage to pull one thought out of my head.

I have to fight as well.

I can't just rely on them to rescue me. I need to try to fight my way out of here too.

Where's that girl inside of me that was willing to go down in flames to escape? The one willing to end a life to fight?

She's still in there. I need her.

Mustering all the strength I have, I surprise the doctors by suddenly flinging myself off the ground. The white room spins violently, my stomach threatening to hurl all over the floor, but I ignore the feelings.

Whipping around, I find Dr. West watching with his eyebrows raised, his stupid fucking clipboard poised in his hand. I rush forward, knocking it with my fist. It flies upwards, hitting him square in the face. Quickly, I use the opportunity to dart for the open door, thankful not to see the guards anywhere.

One step at a time…

Everything is hazy—woozy—as I try to run in a straight line. The overwhelming white and monochrome colors make it difficult to focus on anything but I do my best to stay upright, ignoring Dr. Cromwell's pleas to stop from behind me.

As I get to the large metal door, I tug on the handle, frustrated when nothing happens.

The fucking keypad and access cards.

Spinning around, I find the two doctors approaching slowly, observing me carefully.

"Get the fuck away from me!" I scream at them, looking around for something to use as a weapon. There's nothing, so I do the only thing I can think of. I smash my fist into an observation window along the wall, shards of glass falling to the floor.

Bits of red explode in my vision, eyes seeking out the color desperately. I'm so sick of white. I hate it.

White is meant to be pure. It's meant to reflect innocence… but not here.

I realize the red is coming from my hand, a large cut across my knuckles from the glass. I breathe a sigh of relief at normality—blood—that's what's keeping me alive. And as long as I have blood pumping into my heart, I'm going to keep fighting.

Kneeling down, I grab the largest shard of glass I can see, holding it toward them. "Stay the fuck back. You're going to let me out of here."

"Avery," Dr. Cromwell says calmly, raising her hands up in a surrendering gesture. "Put the glass down. You don't want to do something reckless."

"It's what you expect," I snap back. "We're not even human to you. We're just pathetic reasons for you to use. You're not God!"

More people appear behind the doctors—guards, colleagues—all staring at me bewildered. Some don't look surprised though, and it pisses me off.

Dr. West steps toward me, motioning for his colleague to stay back. I wave my hand, droplets of blood landing all over the pristine white floor that reminds me so much of my arrival at Lilydale. I remember staring at the building, wondering how they got it to shine. It's an illusion, because once you step inside, it's the polar opposite.

"If you touch me, I'll kill you," I warn. "You already know I killed before."

"You and I both know that you don't have it in you to kill anyone, Avery," he says casually. "Put the glass down and we'll escort you back to your room."

"No," I argue, shaking my head. "I'm not letting you hurt me anymore."

He raises an eyebrow, continuing to move forward. "We're not hurting you. This is us trying to help you. Once we've finished our trials, you'll be back upstairs with your friends in no time."

Upstairs…

So, we are still in Lilydale.

It's like gasoline to the small flicker of hope still inside of me, embers catching alight. I'm near Grey, Theo, and Damon—we're just blocked by guards and doorways. There's still a chance.

"I don't believe you," I reply sharply. "People don't go back to Lilydale."

---