| The rhythmic drip-drop of water, seeping in from somewhere above his cell, was the first thing to come back to the prisoner. A cracked sewer line maybe, the prisoner thought due to the horrid smell that permeated throughout the room. Across the small brimstone space his cell mate was sitting still like he had for weeks now.
Then pain, every time he moved he could hear the crack of scabs that accompanied the pain as it shot up his back- followed by the flow of blood from the reopened wounds. He could barely see the inside of his cell, and only from a crimson feint light hidden from view outside. Near the center of the floor the puddle that had formed under the leaky ceiling caught the light, setting the still surface ablaze with a glories red light.
The prisoner crawled over to the puddle careful to keep his back stiff to minimize the damage he did to it. He knew he shouldn’t do it, he should let himself sit still, heal. His instincts told him so but another stronger urge drove him forward.
His throat was dryer than the hunks of meat that sat at the feet of his cell mate- meat that even now large rats attacked with a rabid ferocity.
Didn’t the guards know he was dead? Or were they purposely feeding their vermin kin?
When he finally reached the puddle he saw a black silhouette looking back at him. He couldn’t make out any features beyond his ruffled hair. Even with the small amount of detail, the shrouded figure whose stare was still fixated on the prisoner was a stranger’s. He couldn’t recall anything past waking up, he wanted to cry, what was going on?
A sound of metal scraping metal came from the hallway down to the right, a slow screech of a heavy door swinging on its hinges. The click clack of swift footsteps on cold stone swept through the hallway. The prisoner turned toward the door of his cell just as the woman came into view in front of his cell.
The woman, dressed in white robes with a gold line running the edges of the fabric, stopped at the front of the prisoner’s cell and watched for a minute.
“Gods, what have they done to you?” She asked.
© Copyright 2012 C.D.Renteria (UN: cdrenteria at Writing.Com).
All rights reserved.
C.D.Renteria has granted Writing.Com, its affiliates and syndicates non-exclusive rights to display this work.
|Log In To Leave Feedback|