A/N

Whew, all that steamy scene just made me sweat! JK - it kinda weirds me out, to be honest. I suppose I'm not really interested in these sort of things? Strange for a healthy 18 years old girl LOL! Now onwards, my B. Immortals, to Donovan's rescue!

Which ship are you on?

DonovanxArtemis

or

LincolnxArtemis

Comment to see which one is the winning side and the winner MIGHT JUST have a chance to make their ship cannon! Cause you know, I'm generous like that *wink*

~~~

My prince oh my prince

When will you rescue me -

The damsel in distress?

On your white horse

Oh wait, my knight

You're no human

'Cause you're a centaur

Who needs no horse

Please, my prince

On your four legs

Come kill this tyrant

Wait, I think I love him

Perhaps rescue another man

Apologies for not being your lady

My heart already shattered, you see

To different gentlemen and it's too late

~Author

   Its glossy, black surface stared back at me. Blinking at the object that I had never laid my eyes on during my time spent as a vampire, different mental entities started to have a heated argument about the best route for this unexpected result. What, you didn't figure this out earlier? A voice stood out among others, its tone dripping with sarcasm. There were no large, bright signs that said "Press me!" so nothing could possibly show me where to activate this piece of thin thing.

   Well, there was a squarish button at the bottom of the screen but it looked useless.

   "Samsung?" I mumbled to myself, seeing the embellished name. "Maybe it's the soul of this phone."

   Now that I thought about it, surely I used this kind of alien devices before. Despite my best efforts to recall any memories "Fennel August" owned, my mind remained as blank as a white paper sheet. A groan escaped from the back of my throat until a brilliant idea formed itself. Oh, I'm so silly for not knowing it earlier! I thought before executing the plan.

   "Make yourself known, Samsung!"

   Seconds soon turned to minutes and yet, nothing happened. Perhaps this object felt insecure since I stole it from its owner. Guilt tugged at my heart when I considered that fact but I erased it immediately. It's not a living thing, Artemis! I scolded myself inwardly. Get a grip!

   "Abracadabra!" Was one of my unsuccessful attempts to conjure the stubborn being.

   I threw the phone away after a millionth time which consisted nothing but shouting possible keywords just to activate this seemingly useless gadget. What can a flat piece of metal do, anyway? I grumbled while flopping onto the bed. I knew I was dumb enough to trust a dream but to believe this cardboard imitation was actually a phone? I stooped to a new low this time.

   My mind wandered to a certain someone with blood colored eyes and I could feel myself blushing. Tears began to escape from its tear ducts then blur my vision the moment I remembered how the encounter ended up. Don't think about him now, you have better things to do! An inner voice commanded and I obliged without any further delay. However, another quick glance at the inanimate object dashed all forms of hope within me. Throwing it away due to increasing frustration, I watched as the stolen item crashed onto headboard's round handle with a solid thud.

   Pixels after pixels lit up the black screen.

   "Are you freaking kidding me?" I said while grabbing the activated treasure.

   A message, prompting me to swipe, appeared on the screen so I abide its order. Good job, me! I congratulated myself, allowing a small smile of victory to slip onto my face. Just when I thought the issue was finally solved, another one rose to take its place. Numbers ranging from zero till nine popped up and another written message told me to enter PIN. Now, if I figured out what was the hidden meaning of those strange initials, I would have no problem at all.

   Unlike my previous unlimited attempts, this challenge proved to be even harder since it forbid me from hacking after several tries. The message "Incorrect PIN entered" had been burned into my mind - thanks to another wave of failure. Truth be told, I contemplated about pleading for Lincoln's help. Just once. Another groan escaped from me but I could not help it; I grew exhausted of stabbing numerals on a flat surface only to have that stubborn, black beast say "Incorrect PIN entered".

   "What is PIN, anyway?" I complained under my breath. "PIN as in needles? Why would you need pins for this?"

   A line of orange-yellow light peeked from the horizon, sending darkness and its night creatures back into their hideout. The sun's first few stray rays sneaked into my room once it found places where the curtains failed to cover. As if on cue, Fennel meowed just outside of the door as if it wanted to be let in. With the tenacious phone in my hand, I got up from the bed and allowed the fluffy Ragdoll cat to enter.

   "Have you been sending me dreams?" I asked the feline.

   Its azure blue eyes looked at me as if I was mad.

   Maybe I am going mad, I thought to myself while focusing on the phone again. Maybe the prisoner can help since he's a human... Mixed feelings stirred within me at the mere thought of it. Placing the phone on the bed stand, I sat on the bed again, deep in thought. Fennel jumped onto my lap then turned on its purring engine when I offered a few leisure strokes. Moments passed by in silence until it decided to hop off and sneak under my bed.

   "Fennel, come here!" I peered into the gap, watching that cat claw its way in deeper.

   Realization hit me harder than a hammer. The letters I stashed in here vanished without a trace. Fennel turned around to face me, its big round eyes stared straight into mine as if it could see past my facade. She's unlike any other normal cats, Artemis, The male twin's voice echoed in my head even though it happened a long time ago; back when the mansion had not burned down. Licking my suddenly dry lips, I got up to snatch Lincoln's cell phone again with renewed energy. The screen that displayed nothing except a column of numbers tried to waver my resolution - however, I already had another theory in mind.

   I took a rushed scan around my childhood room. The pinkness of it all made me cringe but it still gave comfort and some odd nostalgia. Pink table, pink chair, pink dolls, pink carpet; the list went on. My eyes settled on the same pair of jeans that I wore not too long ago. I slipped into it within seconds; breaking the record I had been keeping all this time. After that, I stuffed the Samsung phone into a back pocket and made sure Cuchulainn's note remained by my side.

   "I don't know what are you made of, Fennel," I mumbled, opening the bedroom's door. "But thank you, anyway."

   A soft meow came from the feline, which I would like to think that it accepted my gratitude.

   Shouldn't you refer to the cat as a "She" now? An inner voice suggested out of the blue. She's more human than you think, you know. Planked walls, accompanied by almost identical doors, continued to surround me until I reached a staircase. The lackluster air weighed heavily on my shoulders, placing invisible chains onto me but I took a deep breath before trudging on. Just a few floors left, I thought. Any signs of life or activity avoided me like I was the plague even when I reached the ground floor - a usual place for the few brave maids who dared to slack off. The earth-colored couches and tapestries bore no wrinkles which meant that at least someone took care of the furniture. Yet, the monotonous atmosphere showed no signs of leaving anytime soon.

   As if to reassure me, a furry patch brushed against my left leg. I looked down only to see Fennel rubbing itself - no, herself - around me and a tiny smile crept onto my oval shaped face. Picking her up into my arms, I continued walking towards the dreadful destination.

   Several wooden floorboards jutted out at the sides; betraying its uniform comrades. This must be it, I thought to myself as I began to pull it off. Creaks, soon replaced by loud cracks, surfaced from the planks. With one last yank, everything became loose and revealed a trapdoor. The grin on my face spread wider. You can't hide it from me, Lincoln, I said inwardly while grabbing the circular band made of metal.

   Upon opening, the stench nearly made me puke.

   Piss and blood; that was what it smelled like. Bile rose to my gullet but I refused to let this small matter deter me. Inhaling one deep breath of fresh air, I dived into the hellhole even though Fennel tried to squirm free. Darkness engulfed me, rendering my vision partially useless for a few seconds. Metallic bars lined the soiled corridor, its unidentifiable puddles left me wondering whether it was water or blood. Probably the latter, The usual voice spoke from my consciousness. A shiver traveled down my spine as I walked down. If the vacation house was silent, well, this place ended up being worse. The word "Unnerving" could not do its job to describe the utter stillness. Death lingered in the air, its grimy fingers squeezed my heart every time I thought I caught the sight of a certain Asian man.

   There was no light to make it easier, after all.

   To be frank, I remembered having a bulb somewhere in this corridor. It did not function properly but it managed to dissipate some of the miserable atmosphere. Fur rustled in my arms, sending waves of relief through me. At least I'm not alone, I thought while freeing an arm to find any switches. A panicked yelp escaped from my lips the moment a thick slime made contact with my fingers.

   "Alright, no lights!" I squeaked out, brushing my hand on the jeans numerous times before deeming it clean. "I can see perfectly fine, anyway!"

   The sound of shackles rattling caught my attention. An image of Donovan popped up, pushing all other thoughts away. Legs carrying me to the source of noise along with a heart threatening to break free from its cage, I desperately wished it was the man I loved. Hoped that he would last longer even though Lincoln used horrible torture techniques on him. The dark corridor seemed to stretch on and on, sending me into a spiral of terror. By the time I reached that cell, beads of sweat already began to trickle down my forehead. Don't be weak! An inner voice commanded. He suffered more than you, how can you complain?

   It was right.

   "D-Donovan," I managed to say, wrapping my fingers around the rusty prison bars. "Is that you?"

   Metallic chains shook in response, drawing closer as I tried to control my bated breath.

   A gaunt, anorexic figure came into the view. Bruises plus slashes decorated every inch of the papery skin, threatening to break those brittle bones if another heavy strike comes again. The man's knobby fingers grasped mine, sending me into fight or flight mode. I almost tore my hand away from his until our eyes met each other. It looked so different from what I used to see but I could still see a spark of recognition in those hollow brown eyes. Grease covered hair fell onto his forehead, plastered together with a thin sheen of sweat. The once proud Taiwanese descent looks already left him, his trademark jawline was painfully emphasized by the lack of food.

   Those chapped lips of his moved to talk but I quickly silenced him.

   "I'll come rescue you," I promised, careful to not clutch his hands too tightly. "I just need your help now."

   Donovan seemed to have a hard time registering my words in his mind. His gaze went blank for a second before refocusing on me. Just when I thought he was too late to be saved, he gave a meek nod. Tears prickled my eyes but I refused to let it fall. I did not deserve to cry when I was not the one who endured inhumane treatment. Another scarred hand reached out from the bars, caressing my cheek. With an increasingly blurry vision, I looked at his eyes and saw a faint glow of warmth and love.

   That broke the dam.

   Rivers of tears came flowing down my cheeks as I broke into a loud sob. Several hiccups got in the way when I struggled to apologize. He only shook his head a little and offered a weak smile. I did not even notice the weight lifting off from my chest; regret plus helplessness flooded my heart and spilled through the form of tears. Those warm, salty water stained Donovan's hand but it hardly concerned him. His callused fingers continued to wipe the product of my waterworks, fully aware that it would not end soon. High school memories came rushing into my mind; the times when Donovan would dry my tears if I received bad exam grades or that one time when the story had a very sad ending. I was too emotional to know why the muscle spasms did not come along with the recollection but at this point, I did not care.

   "I-I'm sorry..." I managed to wheeze out after what seemed like hours, clinging onto his hand for dear life. "I should be the one comforting you and yet..."

   He stood there, watching as my tears spill and finally rasped,"I love you."

   I wanted to reply but he placed a finger on my lips.

   "Let me help you." His voice was nothing but a faint murmur now.

   I almost forgot about that. Bobbing my head up and down in agreement, I produced a sleek black phone out from my back pocket then placed it in his hands. He spared a glance at me before pressing on the squarish button. The screen lit up again, displaying the same things I saw earlier. So that's how it works? I wondered as I watched his fingers flurried across the annoying digits. Tears gradually stopped streaming, leaving a trail of dried sticky wake behind it. The struggle I went through with the "PIN" seemed like nothing to the stick figure Donovan. Perhaps that had something to do with the fact that he indulged into the technology as well as literature world. You're the best of both worlds, I admired inwardly. That or Lincoln use weak and cliche passwords.

   Soon enough, rows after rows of squarish icons beamed at us. I frowned at the strange symbols, unable to decipher its meaning. Donovan eventually tore his gaze from the screen and settled on me. Even without words, I knew what he planned to ask. I made sure my voice would not break from all the crying just now before speaking.

   "I want to make a call."

   A simple tap on one of the graphic icons revealed a long list of names. It would not take a genius to realize that those were Lincoln's contacts. A pang of jealousy hit me the instant I glimpsed a familiar name among the rest. Liliane. Just before I could flashback to what happened last night, I shook my head and the Asian man swept a finger over. Another numeral column appeared although it looked slightly different from the one I saw. Again, Donovan looked at me as if waiting for an order.

   "Oh, right." I took out the wrinkled paper then scrutinized it. Cuchulainn's handwriting was hard to decipher but I managed to recognize the numbers after a while. With a deep breath - which resulted in the sudden urge to vomit - I pressed on the digital numbers, shocked that my fingers were able to generate results on a flat piece of object. Magic, An inner voice said in awe. Smart humans. Once I finished typing out everything, the prisoner entered a deep slumber.

   His chest rose up and down with a slow pace, highlighting several rib cages that poked out of the flimsy skin. Nothing changed at all; he still looked like he was on the brink of death but the forlorn expression on his face decreased just a little bit. I'm sorry I made you suffer like this, Don... I thought to myself, unable to tear my gaze away from him.

   If I could not focus on the pressing matter seconds ago, I could now. The sound of someone's footfalls echoed within the dark, brick walls. It emanated power, dominance, and authority. Those three keywords were more than enough to let me know who was coming towards our direction. Water splatters came closer by the second; indicating that the male twin did not bother to avoid those mysterious puddles. However, the only thing I could register in my mind was thoughts consisted nothing but "Was he looking for me?" and "Did he realize his phone was with me?"

   The instant I saw the outline of his tux, my hand had its own will and stuffed the crucial device back into where it belonged. Gulping the sudden lump that lodged itself in my throat, I straightened my spine in order to not show any weakness. With the upper floor's light shining behind him, he never appeared any more dangerous than this exact moment. Why did I even expected him to close the trapdoor behind him? I would never know. His sharp, handsome features contorted to form a scowl.

   "This is the second time I'm asking the same question. What are you doing here?" His voice held nothing but suspicion.