I’ve seen this before. Many times.
A cold sweat breaks out over me, making my stomach roil. My head starts to pound, the memory going blurred and dark, but then I see her. The woman with the orange-tipped hair. She’s smiling at me. Wearing a charm with this exact emblem dangling from her pointed ear. The top of that same ear now hacked off…
Stabbing pain punctures through my eye socket, making me cry out as the memory slips away. I pant, stomach twisting. For several moments, all I can do is breathe deeply, trying not to vomit, though there’s already a puddle of it on the floor that I don’t have memory of.
The confusion immediately spurs my fury. I want out of this place. I want to remember. I want to get rid of thesethings in my head that writhe.
An abrupt smack against my cell makes me jolt, and I stiffen as the slider at the bottom of the door shoves open so the guard can push a tray of food in.
I don’t think, I just pounce.
The slot is only about ten inches wide, but I leap in front of it, arms squeezing through the opening. Whatever magic is embedded into the cuff at my ankle weighs on me, making me feel heavy and impeded, but I ignore its burdensome weight.
The tray clatters beneath my elbows, soup spilling and soaking my sleeves as my hands snatch at the guard’s leg. He makes a noise of surprise as I grip him by the ankle and pull as hard as I can.
He’s unprepared for my attack, so I knock him off balance and he goes falling back. Pebbled armor cracks against the stone floor, and a pained grunt whooshes out of him. I sacrifice my sight, shoving my head against the door to allow my arm a longer reach.
My hand grapples for the weapon at his hip as I reach as far as I can, victory surging through me when I find the pommel. My fingers wrap around it and I pull, teeth gritted as I yank it out of the hilt. Shoving backwards, I haul it toward me, getting it halfway through the gap in the door.
But the guard is up, his foot suddenly slamming down on my arm and pinning me in place. My teeth clench together in pain as he shoves all his weight down on my limb, threatening to grind my bone to dust, but I don’t let go.
Spewing curses on the other side of the door, the guard moves, weight shifting, and then he snatches at the sword.
“No!” I scream, trying to pull it with all my might.
He’s breathing hard, and I feel his meaty hands come down, and he bends my fingers back so violently that they nearly snap.
I cry out as the sword is dragged out of my grip, and before I can move, he lifts his foot up and slams it down on my arm so hard I see stars. When he lifts again, I snatch my limb back in. I scramble to sit up, fingers and arm throbbing, breath panting.
“You Turley bitch! I ought to come in there and beat you within an inch of your fucking life!”
I glare at the opening, staring holes into his legs. “Come in and try it, asshole!”
“I hope you fucking rot in there!” he curses before the opening at the door slams shut. I hear another insult tossed my way, and then he stomps off.
Inwardly cursing myself for not being quick enough, I grit my teeth as I flex my fingers. I was so close to having that damn weapon.
Pushing to my feet, I start to pace. Five steps is all I get from one wall to the other before I have to spin around and go the other way. Back and forth, my anger and anxiousness grow.
I feel caged. And that feeling…it makes me want to crawl through my own skin. Makes me want to rage.
The guard’s words echo.I hope you fucking rot in there.
A burst of fury carries me across the room, and I snatch up the food tray. Everything left on it goes flying as I slam it against the door again and again and again. Every hit wrought with a furious scream.
The tray does nothing against the door of course, not even a scuff on the stone. I toss it away with disgust, looking around wildly for whatever else I can destroy, needing to get out this pressurizing ire.
Eyes locking on the crust of bread, I snatch it up, ready to crush it between my fists, to throw it against the wall, but before I can chuck it, the bread…molds. It grows green with fuzz and then blackens, shrinking, eating away at itself.
Shocked, I let it drop to the ground, and it falls into disintegrated pieces.
Heart pounding, I crouch down, staring at it.What the hell?
I look down at my open palm. Look at the black lines moving through the gold like veins of marble.
I hope you fucking rot in there.
Rot. This isrot. I’m not sure exactly how I know this, but I do.
