Fire and Ice

Fire and Ice - Part 8

Chapter 7

Alantra POV

A profit once said, “An existence deprived of freedom is the worst kind of living death”.

I couldn’t agree more.

~

It’s truly shocking, the contrast between living and waking. I now view living as when I’m sleeping, because it is impossible to identify my current situation with living.

~

“Dinner” he announced, producing a plate of plain rice covered in a dark tangy sauce, dropping it next to me and retreating across the room as far as possible to stand in front of the low burning fire.

I didn’t bother glancing at the plate beside me; i already knew what it was without looking. Instead i lay where i was, unmoving, my arms crossed behind my head as i stared at the ceiling, looking for all the world as if i was lost in day dreams. In reality i was flicking through all the different techniques i could employ when i tortured him. I used to get through the days by going back through every memory i had, focusing on each minute detail, but over time i moved on to much darker day dreams.

“You never speak”. His voice cut through the silence and i blinked but remained where i lay. Unlike his usual comments his voice held no malice or taunt, instead he sounded bored and slightly curious.

Well to bad, he could choke on his curiosity for all i cared.

Of the three months i had been here, or maybe it was three weeks, i had not seen the outside of this small stone room. After the first 6 months the claustrophobia had worn off, but every time it was his turn to watch me, it seemed to come roaring back and the whole room seemed to shrink until i wanted to do nothing more than pull the thin pillow i lay on over my face and cut out his voice along with my air supply.

“Or maybe, it’s that you never speak to me, playing favourites is an ugly trait” he mused, his voice laced with humour. Laying still i forced myself not to react, not because of the satisfaction it would give him, but because i still had the bruises from the last time i had let his taunts get to me, the memory making me wince slightly.

“Well if you’re not going to eat then we might as well get going” he said, standing and moving towards the door, motioning for me to follow. I watched him suspiciously, unwilling to let myself be fooled.

He sighed and glared at me. “Please don’t make me carry you, I didn’t enjoy it the first time and i assure you it won’t be any pleasanter with you awake”.

I remained where i was, the only reason they would let me out of the hell hole of a room would be to kill me, though the more i thought about it, that was actually more appealing than healthy.

Shrugging he turned and opened the door, “Suit yourself” he said and walked out, closing the door behind him and leaving me with a rare moment of privacy. Stunned i slowly pulled myself into a sitting position and swung my legs over the side of the low lying cot that served as my bed. Rarely in the time that i had been incarcerated had i had even the smallest amounts of privacy, i was always guarded by someone, be it Raoul, Nolan, another of several non-descript guards, or when i was incredibly unlucky, Tarlase. My thoughts were interrupted by teh door once again swinging open and i sighed in frustration, siding back down onto the mattress and closing my eyes.

“Come on, get up” called Raoul and my eyes popped open, turning my head to stare at him.

“Hi to you to” i muttered and he rolled his eyes.

“Do you want to be pleasant, or would you rather get out of this room for once?” he asked and i stared at him incredulously.

“Don’t tease, it’s not nice” i replied, glaring at him.