That question froze my body into a block of ice. Sylvia's question replayed in my head more than I could count.

“Listen, ginger, Jill wouldn’t do anything ridiculous like that.”

“My, my, why defend her when the truth is in the stars? She has a clear motive and knows the way around. It is no coincidence. There’s no bigger suspect than her.”

With my body frozen in stone, my mouth managed to stutter. “I wasn’t a part of this.”

“Of course you are!” She effused, “You’re the only one with a proper motive. You despise everyone here; hence, you decided to create chaos by ending the king’s life. Revenge dashed with your blood. Your lack of control led to his woeful death.”

She wasn’t wrong. I did have a proper motive, but there’s no evidence besides a coincidence.

“What motives are you two—?”

“Owen, not another word from you.”

Sylvia palmed her face. “How about this? Admit your sin and face a lesser consequence. Or we’ll have to squeeze it out of you. I prefer the second option if I had to choose.”

Ok, stay calm. Just think. This had to be a frame job. No doubt it. But also, no one besides a handful knew my relations with the king. Who would go through all that trouble?

Whatever. It didn’t matter now. Her mind had me as the culprit. It was set in stone. Denying it would be futile. The only choice was to fight back or bend to Sylvia’s orders.

No, fighting back wasn’t an option. I didn’t want to get the boys involved in a life-and-death situation. Maybe this could be civilly resolved?

No. Sylvia’s twisted nature wouldn’t allow that to happen.

She twirled around and leaned into my ear again like she was telling a secret. “We can have a little fun in the basement like the old days.”

I shoved her face away from my ear. The guards aimed their blades, waiting for the order to charge. With a grin, Sylvia signaled them to lower their weapons.

“The amount of nerves you have is inspirational,” she said with a smile, bouncing around the room like a toddler. “I just want to dive into dessert! But the entrée was only half-eaten. I still have so much more to go!”

While she rambled about her dessert and main course, I scanned the room, seeing if there were any openings in their formation. The guards were evenly spread out, and their cold faces showed no emotion. They looked so emotionless that I questioned if they were even human. These guys were no rookies or ordinary soldiers; they had to be the best Walisburg had to offer.

With their high-quality gear and medium-length blades, they were ideally equipped for this scenario. They came here betting on a fight—or perhaps they came here wanting to fight.

Fighting in this cramped space would be detrimental. Owen could stand against one, maybe two. Roger wasn’t smart in combat, but his stature made it intimidating for others to challenge him. He could cap at three guards. That left me with seven guards plus Sylvia. I could take seven guards without breaking a sweat, but Sylvia’s the issue. Going off her confidence and movement, she was no joke. Taking her alone would be a chore, let alone fighting seven others. I guess there was only one other option…

“Sylvia, I have a request.” She stopped tapping her heels on the ground and looked at me bugged-eyed. “You can do whatever you want, but please, leave them be. Don’t drag them into something they’re not in.”

She tapped her finger on her chin, looking up at an angle. “Let me think about it… ummmm… no. What good is a party with just one guest? The more the merrier'', she cheered.

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Blood burned in my head. “This has nothing to do with them!”

I took an unnoticeable step back. Think. Their safety was a priority. I didn’t care about my own. I could deal with whatever. I scanned the room once again. We couldn’t bolt through their stiff formation. So what do we do?

“They’re involved with you, so that automatically makes them guilty.

Curse her! I scanned the room once more. Time was running low. I couldn’t waste more than a second without formulating a plan.

Wait a minute… this room was on ground level. We were only surrounded in the front; behind us was just a wall. But within the wall was a window big enough for someone to jump out.

That solution wasn’t ideal, but it was the best I had. But there was also another problem. What if Tim comes back? He would be oblivious. Roger and Owen could find him. That’s our best bet.

“What’s the benefit of bringing my friends?”

With her squeaky, repulsive voice, she preached her vivid fantasy. “Well, isn’t it obvious?” I want your friends to hear your confession while I toy with you! So many things jotted down, but only a few can be selected. How frustrating. But the thought makes my legs quiver!”

I couldn’t let them lay a finger. I scooted shoulder-to-shoulder with Owen, whispering, “Break the window and make a run for it. Take Roger with you.” I couldn’t directly tell Roger since he was on the other side of Owen.

“What about you?”

“Don’t stress about it.”

He glanced down, barely shaking his head. I guess he knew he didn’t have a choice.

“What are you whispering over there? Well, you can tell me in the basement.” Sylvia gave a signal, and the guards inched their way closer.

He looked around, most likely trying to find a different route. I tugged his hand, giving him a quiet, reassuring look.

He playfully shoved my head, mumbling, “Screw your stubbornness.” Owen turned around and threw himself through the window. The shards of glass sprinkled outside, as well as in. With the guards' armor, they couldn’t catch Owen. Good, at least I—

Before I could finish my thought, I turned my face towards Sylvia and met with a jaw-breaking punch. I thought it flew off, and for a brief moment, I was about to land on glass. This impact couldn’t be avoided. I shut my eyes; the glass pierced through my hand. I didn’t hear her charge at me. She was so quick—a little too quick.

I heard a familiar, muffled yell next to me. It had the body of a mammoth but the mind of a turkey. What was Roger doing here? Wasn’t he supposed to go with Owen? Did he not say anything? Multiple guards surrounded him, giving him no breathing room. Moments later, the yells halted.

“He’s not dead yet, just unconscious," said a voice above me, presumably Sylvia. I couldn’t really tell.

My body rested on shards of broken glass. It wasn’t painful at first, but the moment after was. But it was nothing I couldn’t handle. My forearm slammed onto the floor, trying to push myself up, but Sylvia’s heel stopped me. Her force slammed my stomach onto the ground. The pain spiked in my back as she rubbed her heel around my skin.

“My, my, where do you think you’re going? We have a party to attend, and I can bring a few guests. Might as well tag along, right?” glass rubbed around my hand, making me scream internally.

She grabbed a chunk of my loose hair, pulling my head upright. Surprisingly, my scalp didn’t rip off.

Blood dripped from my hand. Thankfully, there were no large, knife-like pieces within me. She lifted my hand to see the wound. “My, my!” She gushed with twisted happiness, “The glass did a number on you. Hey Mac, grab the bandages. I don’t want my guest bleeding out before the party.” She pulled me onto my knees.

A part of me wanted to bite her mouth off, but there was no point in aggravating her. The odds were prominent: thirteen against one.

What would happen to me? If she kills me, then what about Owen and Roger? What would they do to Roger? They would hunt down Owen for sure. As for Tim, I didn't know where he was.

Should... should I... fight?

No. I didn’t want to. I’ll get carried away again. I’ll lose myself. Just how I did back then. I’ll lose control. The parasite could take over my body. Because of the truth, I swore never to use the parasite ever again.

When I fought the SCAR agent the other day, I didn’t revert to her since there was no need. He had no physical strength, couldn’t wield a baton right, and couldn’t last more than a few minutes. When I fought the mammoth on the stage, it was a mock fight. My heart wasn’t punching my ribs. There was nothing to worry about.

But facing Sylvia was completely different. She wasn’t joking around or ignorant of what she was doing. She was ruthless and beaming with hatred; that combination was never good.

What... what should... I do...?

I couldn't fight back, though I couldn't accept this fate. I was too stubborn, too.

But in the end, I couldn't do anything. I felt hopeless.

My life was in control of someone impulsive.