Then everything was ruined.
My toe had knocked a pebble which proceeded to roll across the floor.
I froze immediately; holding my breath. It would only take one monster, one out of the thousands above me; to wake up.
The silence in the room was unbearable. The muscles in my legs were so tense they shook. Do I continue? I took one nervous step forwards and made the mistake of glancing up. My heartbeat soared in my chest and I had no idea how I managed to stop myself from screaming.
A face hung mere inches from my head.
At first it didn’t make a sound, instead its abnormal mouth stretched out into a deformed grin that reached the sides of its horrid face. Rows of needle-thin teeth were stained grey and brown, and gleamed with sticky saliva. For some reason I still didn’t scream, instead I stood my ground and glared into the crescent-shaped pupils of its purple eyes.
It slipped from the ceiling, landing in a feline fashion before me. Its waxy skin seemed strained over its disfigured features and it seemed to be sniffing; tasting the air for fear or a threat. I swallowed, my muscles still locked into place. This had to be the tensest moment in my life. Any loud noise and they’d all wake up.
Then it threw back its head and screeched.
Fear paralysed me momentarily, then my instincts took over and I bolted towards the exit; broken shards of rock jabbing into my bare feet as I ran in the darkness. I didn’t care though; they were waking.
The first was already chasing after me; its claws skidding across the floor, making a piercing, high-pitched noise; like the scraping of a nail down a chalkboard. My weakened legs seemed to work independently as I rushed towards the arch. The half-breeds were shaking themselves awake; but I managed to dart between their outstretched limbs. Both exits were equally far away and I felt like I wasn’t going to make it.
I was wrong. I did make it. Though what was I discovered on the other side of the arch wasn’t exactly a big comfort.
It was another room filled with rising monsters.
Frantically I ran for my life. The creatures were clawing at my feet, their hungry stomachs motivating them, but I leapt out of the way. There were too many though, and soon one hooked a ribbed talon around my calf muscle.
I crashed to the cool hard floor, air escaping my lungs from the impact.
I struggled to get up but was forced to the floor by thrashing bodies. I pushed up against the weight but it was useless. I crawled forwards, rock slicing the soft flesh at my elbows. I screamed, the shrill sound echoing into the cracks and rises of the cave as something bit my ankle.
I wrenched back and kicked one of the monsters in its mutilated face. It roared ferociously and tried to bite me again. The hard slippery ground was icy against my cheek as my head was wrestled to the floor by barbed claws. The noise of flapping wings didn’t muffle the screeching cries that punctured my ears. Everywhere I could feel their teeth, their claws, nagging at my flesh.
“Stop!” somebody screamed over the noise; then next shouted something in a foreign language.
Immediately the sound of hissing increased, but the bodies on my back seemed to hesitate. Then gradually I felt the wriggling, clawing mass push off me. When I finally managed to lift my head Briseis was stood before me.
Even through the darkness I could see her murderous expression, the thunderous glint in her hazel eyes. Her arms were folded across her chest. As I forced myself up I noticed the guards beside her.
Without looking at the guards she ordered: “Take her to the water room.” She then turned on her heel and disappeared into the shadows.
The two guards came over and yanked at my shoulders. Most of the half-breeds were still watching me with hungry eyes, crouched in a predatory position and licking their thin glistening teeth; as the guards dragged me away. I had no idea what the water room was, but I was absolutely certain I didn’t want to find out. I lashed out at the guards but they were determined and merciless, lugging me through dark passages; their nails digging into me.
We stopped at a large open area of the cave. Burning torches dangled intermittently around the dribbling stalactites, providing enough light to see a round pool of cave water. The pool was completely transparent; I could see all the way down to the smooth pebbles in the bottom. The water was trapped within a miniature wall of grey rock and at the other end was a small opening in the wall which the water seemingly flowed from.
“This is it?” I wondered, surprised. It didn’t look too bad.
The guards laughed. “No,” one said, “That is.”
He pointed towards a tiny crack in the floor a few metres away. It was almost circular and must have been quite deep; though I couldn’t tell how deep because of the dark unfathomable water that filled it. A human would barely fit inside it. There were several other pits, smaller and larger; it was a maze of cracks and crevices.
I gaped at the hole with renewed horror. Before I could protest, I was lifted off my feet by the guards like I was a toddler. I screamed and fought back but they were just too strong. I struggled even more as I was lowered into the hole, scraping my nails across their arms in my panic; my eyes wide.
“Please,” I begged, absolutely terrified. I can’t even swim. “Please.”
I was so scared I didn’t even think to use my voice.
But they were already shoving me in, forcing me into the dark, fathomless water. My toes barely reached the ground. I could hear the guards rolling something heavy towards me; a rock I think. Were they going to let it fall on me? No, I realised, they were blocking out the last frail shimmer of light. They were trapping me in, using that boulder to barricade my only exit! I pushed ferociously against the boulder but I was too weak, my grip too feeble. The light was demolished and darkness closed in on me.
The water was icy and I could feel faint currents lapping at my feet. My lungs were rising and falling rapidly. I began hyperventilating in panic; breathing in the only air I had. I could suffocate in here! How long until the oxygen runs out? My heart was hammering in my ears. I began to cry, fat petrified tears running off my face. I could hear them dropping into the water, filling it up. I tried to stop, sniffing and whimpering like a beaten dog.
At one point I tripped over a loose stone, falling backwards and cracking my head against the wall. I lost consciousness for a second and as a result fell into the water. Instantly I woke, thrashing my arms out wildly, frantically trying to resurface; but it was so dark I couldn’t even see the rocky vaulting above me. Eventually I found air and inhaled desperately, clinging on to the walls with my fingertips. I swear things were churning about my legs. I could feel weeds caressing my ankles like slimy fingers.
For a long time I wailed for help but got no answer; I apologised pathetically in the vain hope that someone would feel sorry for me and let me out. My body numbed slowly and I didn’t dare move a fraction. I couldn’t think I was panicking so much. I had never been so scared before; not even when I’d been facing death the night I burned. I tried to breathe slowly, cherishing my only air so it would sustain longer. I just wanted to get out.
How many minutes had passed already? It felt like hours.
A sound registered in my brain. I listened attentively, hope sparking my dying will. Suddenly the rock above me began to move and a tiny sprinkle of light caught the surface of the water. I stood on my toes instantly, resurrecting my paralyzed body. Grabbing the rough stone with my dead fingers, I tried to clamber up the walls that trapped me.
Light blinded my eyes as I was hauled out of the hole.
When I was stood on dry rock I began to cry again despite myself. I knew I was free but I just couldn’t get that cruel, scarring experience out of my system. I clasped my hands over my eyes, my whole body shaking with distraught, disturbed convulsions. The two guards took me silently back to my room. As soon as I was in there I stripped off my dirty, drenched clothes and got straight into bed; wide awake and shivering.
I don’t care what I have to do. I will n
ever end up back in that hole.
Chapter Four
The next few hours tumbled away.
I couldn’t calculate the time as there was no sun or moon to enlighten me, but I guessed when the days started and finished through the meals I received. The food was nothing extravagant; stale bread rolls for breakfast, watery vegetable soup for lunch and some sort of ‘meat’ stew for dinner. I didn’t even want to know what classified as meat in this place.
On the first day I was left alone in my room. I was bored and frightened but I didn’t try to break out again. I wallowed in my own misery. I had no idea where I was or how long I’d be stranded here. Was anybody even coming for me?
I paced about the room for a while, trying to think of a way out of this damned place, when I heard the door swing open. I glanced towards the source of the commotion, seeing a man stood in the threshold. A spark of recognition briefly flickered over me; he was the healer from before.
My eyes instantly fixated on what he was carrying in his right hand; a syringe containing a cloudy, yellowish liquid. Behind him were two guards. I backed away immediately; fear motivating my aching feet. The healer raised his hands, palms upward, as if to calm me. I glowered at him, my eyes narrowing in suspicion.
“Stay away from me,” I warned, my voice cracking from neglect of use.
Then I noticed something else. In all three of the men’s ears were headphones. I could just see the cables dangling under their ears, looping under the collars of their shirts; a lame attempt to try and disguise the fact that they were there. I could hear the blaring drum of boisterous, electronic music. Human music.
My confusion was cut short as the men suddenly charged at me. I staggered back but there was nowhere to go. My back was pressed against the cold asperous rock. The healer stared at me intently; eyeing up my veins. I shook my head, panic widening my eyes. What was in that syringe?
Hands grasped my shoulder roughly, fingernails digging into the flesh of my collarbone. I struggled against the men; but I already felt weak and malnourished. I shouted and bit and scratched myself free of the guards, seconds before the healer had the chance to stick the needle into my arm.
I had nowhere to run though. The door had swung shut seconds after the men came in; but it was my only opportunity to escape so I had to try for it. I half-stumbled half-raced to the door, attempting to wedge my fingers in a crack that ran parallel to the wood. The rock wall scraped the back of my knuckles as I desperately tried to claw the door open but it was too late.
I felt myself being lifted in strong arms. I thrashed about furiously but my will was fading. I was slammed against the wall, my head cracking against a jagged rock. It wasn’t bad enough to bleed but I felt a rush of dizziness overwhelm me. I saw the needle coming but had nowhere to run, no room to struggle free.
My neck was trapped in a headlock, my body immobile because of the large restrictive hands, and my arm was trapped in a vice-like grasp. My other arm flopped limply to my side in defeat. I closed my eyes and braced myself for what was about to come. Was I being poisoned? Sedated? Killed? Who knew?
A sharp scratch made me wince and my eyes opened automatically. The needle hurt more coming out than it did going in. I felt instantly drowsy. My body seemed to go numb. I was aware of my knees giving way and then everything blurred into a grey dullness. Before I slipped into complete unconsciousness I felt myself being carried. I could almost imagine I was in Kieran’s arms.
When I awoke there was pain. It wasn’t a stabbing kind of pain. It was a dull aching, like the sound of footsteps in the snow; a slow thud under the surface. My eyes eventually struggled open. There was this foggy confusion surrounding my head and it took a long time for me to realise that I was back under the cold thin sheets of the bed. I wasn’t home. I was still trapped in this miserable cave.
When I moved my muscles moaned in protest. I felt really weak, like I had run a marathon only a few minutes ago. I glanced around. The room was as dark and depressing as before, but at least I was alone.
Beside me was a tray holding a small hard bread roll and a scrap of jam. The prospect of jam brightened my imminent future and, despite myself, I ate the food willingly. It took a lot of effort to eat; I felt absolutely exhausted. There was water too, which I gulped thirstily. I lay back onto the scratchy sheets, resting my head on the lumpy pillow. I closed my eyes and slept for a long time.
Later the healer returned. He was with only one guard this time. He brought another syringe. My attempts to struggle were more pathetic and pointless this time and I soon gave in. I was too weak, too tired.
They had broken me.
This happened once more the next time I was awake. Then they left me for a day or two. After the third time, when I awoke again, the cloudy confusion that encased my mind took a lot longer to break through. It was hours before I realised where I was; hell, it was hours before I remembered my own name. The dull aching seemed to centre on my spine. Every nerve ending in my body seemed fused to this thudding pain and every small movement I made meant wasted energy; and energy was precious. I only used energy to try and eat; a feeble attempt to regain my strength. It even seemed too much effort to think.
When I slept I dreamed. This was a preferable state for me.
The only time I moved consciously was out of desperation.
Usually I only got up when nature’s insistent call refused to be ignored. I would have to embarrassedly ask the guards to take me to the pitiful toilet facilities; which, considering we were in a massive cave, were only a few metres away. It was essentially just a narrow stream that swept by, washing into the darkness of this endless place. You had to squat over it while the guards turned their backs for ‘privacy’. It wasn’t what I called privacy but it was better than nothing.
There was a cold ‘clean’ river that trickled parallel to it; which I used to wash my hands, though it wasn’t exactly the epitome of cleanliness. The only way I could properly wash my disgusting body was with the lukewarm bowl of water delivered to me every morning; along with a sliver of soap that I cherished unashamedly.
My dreams were an escape; but not always a place I wanted to escape to. Most weren’t pleasant; flashes of running and fighting, blood smeared across the canvas of my eyelids. When I was awake I feared I was losing my mind. I felt trapped; and the walls that encased me seemed to be shrinking. It wasn’t too long before I was considering which rock I would use, which was sharp and large enough to break not just skin but bone and muscle, to do the job if the situation didn’t change.
Not yet though, there was still a fragment of hope keeping my heart beating. I kept dreaming and it helped. I day-dreamed too: nostalgic reminisces of good times. Thinking of my friends back home -Alex and Tanya and my lovely German Shepherd- despite this often making me feel worse when I came back to reality.
Still, it was better than what came next.
It came two days after my third encounter with the healer’s needle. I was slowly beginning to feel a little better. The confusion had vanished and my thoughts were as clear and sharp as glass. My body still ached, but considerably less and I knew whatever weakened my system was finally leaking away.
When the guards opened the door I didn’t even look up from my pillow. I ignored them with an honourable firmness; continuing to count the number of brown smears on the fabric of the pillowcase. I was determined I wouldn’t give them the pleasure of hearing my voice or the satisfaction at how miserable it sounded.
One guard called me over in a low amused voice: “Ruby.” I didn’t look up, despising the condescension in his voice, but he continued nevertheless, “Come on Ruby, time to get up; we’re taking you on a walk.”
A walk? Where the hell to?
I got up slowly, my joints clicking in protest; still not acknowledging the guards presence as I walked over to them, my head held high with the minimal pride I had left. They took me in the opposite direction to the streams. I paid no attention to my surroundings, trying to convin
ce myself that I didn’t care where I was going and it wouldn’t make a difference. I was bad liar; even to myself. I was terrified I was heading to Lynk.
I was wrong: they didn’t take me to Lynk. They took me to Briseis.
The guards made me lie on a stretcher that nearly filled the small room she was waiting in. They chained my hands down with metal shackles that were so cold they seared my skin. I complied voluntarily; deciding not to speak. I would not say one word to her. I would not waste my energy.
Briseis was confident; she knew I didn’t have the energy to use my gift.
Briseis demanded questions of me. How I’d escaped Kariak with my mother. What had she told me; about Lynk, about me, about anything. What did I know about a man with red eyes? Did he attack me? What did he ask? What did he know?
I ignored her, my lips sealed shut. Then she got the knife out.
It was little cuts she made. They weren’t too deep but they spread across the majority of my right arm and throbbed as they bled. I didn’t look, but I knew she was drawing symbols. She named them as she sliced into me, with a mean bite in her tone; explaining why I was what she wrote.
Liar. Murderer. Manipulator.
I closed my eyes; struggling to ignore the pain. I knew that she mustn’t have had permission to go too extreme, to inflict really major injuries, because of the sadistic look in her eyes; telling me that she would’ve done more if given the opportunity. She was enjoying watching me suffer.
It must have been Lynk who’d ordered her not to completely butcher me. I couldn’t believe that I’d once presumed she was my friend.
What Briseis soon realised was that she had nothing against me. I had no friends here or family for her to torture, no one’s life to threaten other than my own. It was only my body she could hurt and -though it did hurt- I didn’t surrender. Finally her frustration overwhelmed her and she hit me. I struggled not to cry out when she did. It was a biting, sharp pain that hadn’t been anticipated. The guards dragged me back to my room after that.
Risen (The Firebird Trilogy Book 2) Page 4
