I woke up on the floor of my cell. My body had dropped from exhaustion as usual, and it messed with my perspective enough to knock me back into it.

  After a moment, the surge from the collar kicked in and brought me back to a minimum of my senses. This time, right as the surge was about to quit, I mentally grabbed onto it and pulled. I pulled as hard as my mind, or soul, or mana channels, or whatever it was that let me do superhero shit in this place, I pulled as hard as I could.

  I felt the energy flow back into me. I felt it fill and restore my cells. I kept pulling, faking a lack of energy in its trigger area until I was full. Every ache and pain that I received in this place came back and hit me…

  …Like a ton of bricks.

  As was long becoming a norm, I woke up in a room. This time it was from overdoing it with he draw and my body’s healing kicking in. I was still lying on the ground like a kicked dog when I heard a noise from the hallway.

  At first, I thought I had hallucinated it. That part of my mind, so desperate for human contact, had snapped, and I was about to meet my first imaginary friend.

  It started with a dragging sound and the sound of Boylan’s, or at least similar, hooves on the stone of the hallway. Eventually, it matured into the sounds of weak struggle and murmurs of complaint.

  The sounds resolved themselves into the shape of my favorite bullkin dragging a sack of potatoes. Naturally, I cracked.

  “Boylan!” I exclaimed

  “I’m so excited to see you, and you brought me a gift? I love potatoes.”

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  “Back scum!” his voice was loud and commanding, his nostrils flaring and adding to the effect.

  “Ok…no need to be harsh. It’s just potatoes.”

  It was about this time that the potatoes turned out to be a skinny blond woman. She was overly thin and dressed in rags. Her dirty complexion and overall poor condition made it easy to confuse her. Or was it that I hadn’t seen food in months? Regardless, the woman, a girl really, was being dragged by her hair and the back of what I assumed was once a dress.

  Boylan unceremoniously opened the cell one away from mine and tossed the girl in, slamming the door shut as she tumbled to the back of the cell. She landed in a heap of thin limbs and rags.

  A whimper, a cry escaped her lips. I expected her to collect herself and rage against the bars, as futile as that might be. Instead, she didn’t even right herself before the tears began.

  Boylan walked out of the prison with nothing more than a dissatisfied grunt as he paused at the door. A moment later, he was out, and the sound of the latch sliding home was all that could be heard. That and the soft whimpering of a broken girl.

  I waited.

  After about an hour or so, the girl finally stopped sobbing and righted herself. She took a few deep breaths and started to take in her surroundings. Broken but aware. Her eyes finally settled on me. It was at this point that so many of my life’s worst moments flashed before my eyes, several stabbings and at least one gunshot. All of them started with a broken girl.

  She looked over at me. We were both standing at this point. I was not going to fall for it this time. I was going to escape, and this girl’s problems were her own. I had some of my ability back. I was going to break my collar and get the fuck out of dodge.

  She looked over, and our eyes locked.

  Not going to happen.

  A small, sad smile crossed her face, and she wiped away some tears with her forearm. Fuck.

  I would resist.

  “Hi!” Oh shit.

  “I’m Ashley. What’s your name?” Fuck me.

  I was hooked. I was boned. I was so close. I never had a chance. The sad smile and tears paired with an infectious voice and the glimmer of hope, or at least solace, was my kryptonite. Or at least spelled sucker across my forehead. I had no resistance left; it all melted away in her smile.

  “I’m Aris, and I’ll be rescuing you today.”

  I’m an idiot.