The Nature of Time

Chapter 5

The cuts on his arms and his legs still leaked red through the crude wrappings he managed to piece together. His shirt hung loosely to him trying to not be submerged under the maddening screams around him. The walls were cold and rough. It was the best he had to make do for comfort.

The port hole in his cell door opened and a blank face looked in. The orange flames fanned light into his dark holdings, but made it hard to see the features peering in.

"You're going to die here, Damien," said the voice.

He managed a chuckle. A smirk creeped across the prisoner's face.

"How's your face, Bale?"

The lid slammed shut and all was dark again. Clicks and clacks screamed horror as the door unlocked. The hinges squealed as the door was wrenched open. A larger man crept in coming face to face with Damien who sat patiently on the ground.

Bale's face was pocked with bruises and a gash on his cheek was having a hard time healing. The skin was jagged, bulbous and red. Damien made to cover his mouth, but his shackles stopped him short of doing so.

"You think this is funny?" said Bale. He pointed to his face with clearly more emphasis on the jagged bit of flesh. "They kicked me out of my favorite brothel because of this. They said they don't serve monsters."

"I wonder why they didn't realize it sooner."

Bale angrily flogged the biggest cut on Damien's arm. The squish of a clenched fist striking cut flesh was sickening. Damien joined the chorus of screams he had been so removed from. Angry howls, though he wore an amused expression. Another fist struck his face. His head rattled against the stone and then was struck again. Blood rushed out of his mouth, but still he grinned.

"You punch like..." Damien's sarcasm was silenced by another blow.

A hand snagged his dark hair pulling him closer to the horrid features that made up Bale's face. Mad orange eyes vibrating side to side, a sharp crooked nose and gangly teeth some of which were sharper than blades.

He rammed his head into Damien's and a loud crack could be heard. Bale chuckled as the man before him slumped down breathing heavily.

"Your nose is worse than mine," said Bale.

He walked out of the cell slamming the door behind him. Locks sealed his fate. Not even the light dared venture inside. Amused hums grew dimmer as Bale clacked down the hall.

Fresh blood seeped down his arms, pooling around his thighs. The brittle, but bright smile crumbled under the punishment he had received. What Bale lacked in wit was made up by his brutish strength. Damien coughed up more blood feeling the effects of that.

Looks like they found a use for him after all. I need to get out of here, he thought to himself. He had grown accustomed to the pleas for help, the screams of the tortured in this place, but the silence in between became maddening. He had been knocked out during the fight and awoke to find himself in this dank hole. That's the thing about the kind of travel people in the Ministry had access to; you can't take a person with you.

I have to be somewhere in Vienna still.

His head roamed trying to find anything to indicate where he could be. He fought against his shackles scrapping metal across stone, attempting to break them. Red trickled from his wrists. Healing scabs had reopened making his bondages more painful. Damien looked down to the cold stone allowing himself to breathe.

A faint rush of air rang in the small space that was his home. He felt a presence in there with him, his eyes lurching back up frantically scanning the room. Was I out? he thought.

"Back for more, Bale?"

The presence shifted to the right quietly circling around to Damien. There was nothing to make out of the figure except for somehow this person had gotten in here. He couldn't remember the door opening.

"What do you want?"

The figure approached closer with an outstretched hand reaching for his face. Damien pressed himself against the stone trying to break through it. His feet fighting to push him even further away. The hand softly touched his lips pleading him to be silent. A face came close to his, covered by a cowl and a mask. The cowl dropped revealing vibrant red hair. The mask dropped and red, plump lips smiled at the shackled prisoner. Gold-flecked green eyes roamed over him glowing brightly in the dark.

"I've come to get you out," said the woman.