afflicted

1

When she woke up, her head was fucking pounding.

It really and truly felt like her skull was being forcefully pried open. Her mouth was painfully dry, tongue sticking to the roof of her mouth. She took a deep breath, launching herself into a coughing fit. A layer of dust and grime had been sucked into her mouth. She spit it out onto the cold concrete.

As gently as she could manage, she sat up and heard the clanking of metal before realizing with blazing panic that her leg was currently shackled to the floor. Breaths came in and out of her chest wildly, bright spots filling her vision as she yanked at the thick chain. She planted her feet on either side, wrapping both hands around the chainlinks and using all of her body weight to pull upwards. Her foot slid, landing her right on her ass with a cracking thud that sent a jolt up her spine.

She brushed her hair out of her face and looked around. She was locked inside some sort of cell, chained by her left ankle to the floor at the wall furthest from the cell's iron bars. She attempted to push herself to a standing position, but a wave of dizziness and nausea sent her sprawling back onto her knees, throwing up onto the stone beneath her.

Her knees and hips ached from the hardness of the floor. How long had she been down here? Where was here? And was she even technically down?

"You're awake."

She jolted at the sound of the deep male voice that echoed off the frigid walls. She spun wildly, blinking and shoving her tangled hair out of her face.

The man was a mere shadow. She could make out nothing about his face. She could tell from his silhouette that he was large and muscular, with jutting wings poking out from behind him. Other than that, she couldn't see anything. She gritted her teeth, fighting her own body as she forced herself to stand up, holding onto the iron bars as she tried to get a better look at him.
It was the dumbest thing she could have done. The metal went red hot, singing her palms. She yelped, stumbling backward. Her feet tangled the chain, sending her sprawling forward onto her knees.

"Graceful little thing, aren't you?" The voice said again, as deep and dark as the midnight sky. The sky she couldn't see at the moment, which was why she'd assumed they were underground. There were no windows, not even small ones.

It was incredibly damp, the smell of mildew and iron hanging heavily in the humid air. Her mouth tasted awful, and her clothes were shredded and half gone. She was barely even covered.

It suddenly slammed into her like a thousand bricks that her head felt empty. There was nothing inside. Nothing but this room and the man directly in front of her. She couldn't remember who she was or where she was. She didn't know her own name. The harder she tried to remember, the more her head throbbed.

"Who are you?" She croaked out, her throat raw and dehydrated. The silhouetted man crossed his arms, leaning against the wall. Bright blue stones illuminated different parts of his body, sewn into his clothes, she supposed.

"Death," he said. The darkness around him swirled as if it obeyed him. His voice was a deep rumble in his chest. He had an air of command about him that made her hands shake slightly. She clasped them together to hide it.

Slowly, the shadows melted from him down to the floor, creeping closer like a billowing cloud of dark smoke. The blackness crept through the iron bars, perching there as if sentient. As if it was watching her.

"Where am I?" She tried again.

"Hell."

The chain clasped to her ankle rattled as she shifted her weight.

"Who am I?"

"Mine."

She squinted into the darkness, eyes adjusting slightly, but still not enough to make out the details of his face. It was as if the darkness molded to conceal him from her gaze. Like he didn't want to be seen.