CW for suicidal ideation and cursing
The guards who had taken me from that cell gripped my arm tightly. As if afraid I would be stupid enough to run. I was fully aware there was no escape to be gained from such an action. Not for myself, as undeserving of freedom as I was. But also tragically not for any of humanity. We had no chance of defying fate and tasting true freedom. The only escape we would ever taste would come from a noose. And what a bitter-tasting excuse for freedom that was.
Absent-mindedly I realised the grip would leave a bruise. I wondered if I would live long enough for it to develop. If I could stand there on that scaffold, proud that I had beaten the odds enough for my arm to be stained purple. I very much doubted that would be the case. It wasn't as if I was even worthy of such a blessing.
Then again, maybe that would be an apt fate. To sit alone in the dark, the tattered remains of my soul bleeding out. Time enough to reflect on my actions. Maybe solitude would be the greatest gift these creatures could grant me. Time to reflect before they tore away my life too.
Around me, some of the other women were much more vocal. I couldn't blame them, their lives carried value. Their souls were whole and burning bright. Such things as I could never hope for. A thousand years of atoning would never heal my soul.
Most wept as they were dragged along. They must know the fate that awaits us. A few tried pleading with the guards, but their voices would have had a better chance of getting a reaction from the stone slabs on which we walked. Why would the mewlings of a few treacherous worms, lower than the dirt matting our hair, sway the hearts of creatures who delighted in stopping ours from beating?
The passage we were walked along seemed far too appropriate for the situation to have been left to chance. The brackets on the walls burned with smoky flames, turning the air we breathed bitter and oily. I wondered how the guards, with their acute sense of smell which marked them as vastly superior to us, could handle the scent. Maybe they had walked so many to their deaths that they were immune? It would appear being the superior species was not always a privilege.
The flames cast only small pools of light, hardly lighting the passage, not that this would cause a problem to the guards with their superior eyesight. But for us more feeble humans the dense shadows that occupied much of the route were a problem. I repeatedly stumbled as I was made to walk just too fast to be comfortable. Just too fast to register the unevenness beneath my feet before tripping. Some of the others had it worse. To my right, there was a woman barely as tall as my shoulder. She was forced to run just to keep up with the guard latched onto her arm. She tripped on some hidden lump in the floor and fell forward. As she lay sprawled on the floor her guard came over, growling in annoyance. Before she had a chance to move he kicked her in the chest. Even from where I stood the cracks of one of her ribs breaking could be heard.
"Get up, lazy bitch." The guard spat, before dragging her up. I desperately longed to help the poor woman, but with another guard dragging me along, there was little I could do. I hoped these monsters rotted in Hell. Maybe I should save them a space as that would no doubt be my next destination. There or wherever was reserved for monsters.
Yes, this passageway seemed to have been designed to make our final moments miserable. No comfort, no hope. Just darkness and the certainty that something worse lay at the end. Dread hung cold and heavy in the air. Slipped down throats and made you choke on silent sobs.
No doubt the King himself had played a part in its design. Who would be a more likely candidate for destroying anything vaguely precious to humanity? I hoped he was there, wherever we were being taken. I hoped he saw that we were broken, that we were going to die. But that despite that we did not bend. I may not have been able to make amends for my own deeds, but he would pay. With the last breath they would steal from me they would pay. Maybe I would be able to see my mother's spirit, just for a moment. For though they held the power to tear us apart, it would be upon the torn edges of our souls that they would fall.
YOU ARE READING
Darling Mine
VampireA caged animal is infinitely more dangerous than a free one, for it has no concept of freedom upon which to hope. Hope was only to be granted to it if it behaved. I had been so naive, believing that there was some way to escape this place. I had hon...
