28 | The Hardest Pill to Swallow

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About six months ago...

All around Lyn was water—yellowish, rancid, and speckled with suspicious brown residues. It bubbled from her exhalation. And then, after a few excruciatingly long minutes, Lyn found air. She gasped, taking in as much of the putrid smell as she could before her head was forced back into the toilet bowl.

She tried to struggle free, but there were three pairs of hands holding her down; a pair gripping on each of her arms, and another pushing down on her neck. She was strong, but she was not able-to-resist-three-heavy-women strong.

Right before she was about to choke and drown in toilet water, a hand yanked her out by the hair. She fell on her butt as her neck was made to bend the other direction. The next thing she knew, she was staring at an upside-down view of the dreaded woman.

Prissy the Tiger, or at least that's what everyone called her, smirked at Lyn. Her crooked teeth barely aligned on top of one another, while their color matched her dirty blonde tufts of hair.

"Not so strong anymore, are you?" she said as she twirled a finger around Lyn's exposed neck. "Let's see how you keep up that cocky attitude of yours like this."

Lyn readied her fists, but Prissy's underlings held them back. So, she went for the less ideal backup option: spitting on Prissy's scrawny face.

Prissy snarled like an irate tiger. "Why you little—"

She tugged on Lyn's auburn hair until Lyn's grimacing face was positioned right in front of her hand. The fist lunged forward, punching Lyn right in the nose, crumpling her to the ground.

Lyn coughed and groaned as she struggled up. Drops of blood stained the grimy floors, while the strong iron taste washed out the previous foul sting inside her mouth. Her hands trembled. Nobody had ever hit her like that without getting a strike in return. Nobody. Tiny sparks began to dance around her clenched fists.

The beep from her ankle bracelet snapped her from her rage. She cursed inwardly. If the magic sensor were to beep one more time, her sentence would be prolonged.

Reluctantly, she unclenched her hands and stopped her magic.

The blonde woman chortled in glee.

"Look at you, a high and mighty quester, reduced to such a weak and helpless state," she crooned. "This magic sensor is truly the best equalizer in the world, isn't it? You know, I think the whole world should be made to wear it, then there won't be people like you, cocky little bastards who have nothing going on for them other than stupid quester-level magic."

Wiping her mouth with her sleeve, Lyn glared at Prissy and growled, "Come at me one-on-one if you dare, you pussy."

Prissy's permanent scowl twisted even more. Her foot thrust forward and met Lyn's stomach, sending Lyn towards the rest of her gang. Before Lyn could recover from the impact, dozens of hands flew towards her from every direction, punching, kicking, slapping, pulling; the onslaught was so overwhelming that she could not tell what was being done to her body. She curled up into a ball and blocked her head with her arms, focusing on anything but the pain, anything but the blood she was heaving, anything but her humiliating lack of strength...

Finally, the bathroom door slammed open, and the attacks stopped.

"What are you guys doing?" Lyn recognized him as one of the prison guards. "Get the hell out of here, we have roll-call in fifteen minutes."

"Oh, we're just playing around, Mr. Renderson, you know, girl talk." Prissy's voice was a disgusting tone of high-pitched honey.

"Alright, well, playtime is over, get out of here."

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