Chained - 1. Waiting For Death

The pain dominates me. As much as I try to shut my mind to it, it encroaches. There is no escape. I cannot twist away from it. I cannot shrink from it. It is everywhere. It consumes me. I whimper and hate myself for it. They are watching, I know. If only I could sleep but that is as distant as a dream.

The chains are cold, they jingle when I move, not that I can move very much, the chains see to that. I am so cold. So cold that I cannot remember what it is like to feel warm. The rough cold stone of the cave wall digs into my back. There are places where it is so sharp that it cuts into me but my blood has long since dried. The only thing that now trickles over my skin is sweat, and the slimy water that crawls over the stone from somewhere above.

The chains are cold. In some places they bite into my body but in others they are smooth and cool and slide over my skin in a way that is almost pleasant. The music of their tinkling is hypnotic. I wish I could let my head fall onto my chest and surrender to the call of unconsciousness, but I cannot. The collar around my neck bites into me and makes my throat burn. The chains attached to it hold my head up. If I try to drop it the collar cuts off my breath and I begin to choke.

The bit between my teeth is making my jaw ache. It is the least of my pains but irritating nonetheless. It cuts into the corners of my mouth and I can feel blood trickling over my chin. I try not to move my mouth too much so that it does not cut in any more but it is hard. I cannot tell if the metallic taste in my mouth is from the metal bar or blood. If I think about it, it makes me gag.

My hands and arms are numb now. I try to alternate between letting some of my weight hang from them and letting it all rest on my feet. Sometimes the choice is made for me when my legs grow too weak to hold me. That is happening more and more often now. The chains on my collar make it bite into me when my body drops but it is bearable... just.

I am sore all over where I have been beaten. My body is bruised and I know that in some places it is broken. If I look down I can see the blood from the slashes that pattern my torso. It is mostly dried now, but if I move a lot the crust breaks and they ooze again. She hasn’t whipped me for a long time, not since I have been here, in the cave. The whippings and the beatings and the... other things happened before I was chained in this cave. Not here... elsewhere.

I cannot bear to think of that. The pain; the fear; the smell of blood and burning flesh mixed with her perfume and sweet voice. I hate her with every beat of my tired heart.

Ah... but hate takes energy and I have no more to give. I am too tired now to hate.

I wish I could lower my arms, just for a moment. I wish I could wipe the sweat out of my eyes, it makes them sting so. And there is a place in the middle of my back that itches and I wish I could scratch. Part of me almost wishes that I was naked. The leather of my trousers is stiff with blood and... They are stiff and they chafe me. They make me even sorer. But without them I think I might freeze to death.

She didn’t leave me my boots. My feet are torn and that is part of the reason I try and take my weight off my legs when I can.

I am so tired.

It is dark here. My eyes are as used to it as they are ever going to be but I can't see far. There is no light; none at all. No, that is not true. There must be light somewhere because I can see a little way into the darkness. I can see the shadows... and I can hear what moves in them. In the beginning, when they brought me here they had torches and I could see that the cave is large, very large, with a high ceiling and uneven floor.

There is water nearby, I can hear it. I don’t know if it is a pool or a river but I can hear water dripping into it and it sounds deep. I wish I could reach it. I am so thirsty. I am always thirsty. Sometimes a guard comes and lets me drink. He gives me food too; not often but enough to keep me from starving. I cannot say whether he comes every day because there is no such thing as day and night here. There is no time at all... only endless darkness.

I don’t think there are any other prisoners. I cannot call out because of the bar in my mouth but my ears have become sharp and I cannot hear anyone else move or breathe. When I cry or whimper the sound echoes and so I think I would know if there were others here.

I am alone. I am far beneath the ground, locked away from everyone and everything I knew. I am slowly dying and no one will ever know. One day they will forget me. There will be no more food and no more water and I am almost hoping for the day... because then there will be no more pain.

The pain is my only companion. No, that is not entirely true either... because although I am fairly sure that there are no other prisoners here, that does not mean that there is nothing here at all. I hear it often, the scurrying, the scraping and the scratching. Sometimes something touches me, crawls over my foot or up my arm. I am terrified of something crawling on my face. I am helpless to stop it if it did.

I think that something bigger is out there too. I hear sniffing, as if something is scenting the air. It can probably smell my blood. I can. I smell bad. I know that. What can I do? Nothing.

Ugh. My head is spinning. I wish I could rest it. I can't even lean it against my arm. It is trapped rigidly against the wall. If I try to move it at all the metal bar cuts into my mouth. Frothy drool dyed pink with blood drips over my chin. I can’t close my mouth. I can’t... there are so many things I can't do.

Sometimes the world fades for a time. I don’t know if I sleep or pass out or merely... fade for a while. Who knows how much time passes when there is no time to pass? Oh Gods I am weary. I hurt in so many places the pain blends and my body feels as if it is on fire.

I am starving and my guts burn. It’s just as well that I haven’t eaten for a time. If nothing comes in then nothing comes out if you know what I mean. The cramps are no picnic though. They catch me sometimes and my body tries to twist away. The chains cut into me and I end up fighting with my tears as much as the pain.

In the beginning I made a promise to myself. I swore that no matter what they did, no matter how much I hurt I would never cry out and I would never cry. What a fool! What did I know of pain? I was a spoiled child, pampered and cosseted. Well I have grown up now... fast.

My pride and stubbornness prevented me from screaming but my eyes betrayed me when they cry and the whimpers come no matter what I do to try and stop them. I am so tired.

It’s hard to believe that my own family would do such a thing to me: my own brother and sister. They watched when I was being hurt. They smiled when my body twisted with pain. They spat in my face when I wept. Their laughter echoed in my head, tormenting me when I lost consciousness, tearing out my heart when I woke into my own private hell. And she... she gloried in it. While he laughed she participated. While he watched she got blood on her hands... my blood.

I wish they had torn out my heart. At least then it would be over. I know why they did this to me. Of course I do. They want something that only I can give them. They don’t know that of course. They suspect it but they don’t know for sure. If they knew then they would have hurt me even more. They would have broken my body and tortured my soul.

They tried. They tried hard but for all that I have been sheltered and spoiled I am not easy to break. I am strong, as strong as they are and then some. They didn’t know that. They thought that it would be easy, that their soft and pretty baby brother would crack at the first sight of the torture chamber.

I was afraid. Oh Gods was I afraid. From the moment I was snatched from my room, with the hood over my head and chains on my wrists, I was more scared than I have ever been. I knew who was responsible. Even before they took the hood away and made me face them. I had always known that this was going to happen.

I thought that I had been careful, that I had taken enough precautions to keep myself safe from them. My darling brother. My sweet and lovely sister. They tried to poison me before I reached thirteen. They will never know, but they succeeded. If it had not been for Galen I would have died. He nursed me and taught me how to recognise the presence of poison. He even helped me to find the herbs and potions that built a resistance. He saved my life so many times.

He is gone now. His body swings in a gibbet outside the town. It is only bones, picked clean by birds and bleached by the sun. For so long he was my only friend. They saw to that. One by one my friends were taken from me. He was he last. I am truly alone now.

I must not let despondency take me. There have been so many times, especially in the early days when it would have been easier to just give up. I spent many hours crying, praying for death, and then I decided that I would not give in. I would not let myself fall beneath the weight of my own sorrow.

They cannot keep me here forever. Sooner or later I will escape...one way or another.

Agh, the pain. There is no point crying out. There is no one to hear. There is no point keeping it in either. There is no one to hear.

“Nooooooo!!!!” My voice sounds... I have no voice. It has died in my throat. It is as dry as dust, as hoarse as a crow’s. And yet it echoes, in the cave, in my head.

I am weeping again. I hadn’t thought there was moisture left in my body. I am so cold. I am so tired. The weeping is dry now, sobs that bubble from my lips, forcing their way past the bar. There is nothing I can do to keep them down. They hurt but I am used to pain now. Although this pain is new. It is sharp. Most of the pain is not sharp any more. It is dull. It makes me tired.

There is a sound in the darkness. It is a slithering scratching sound. My mind pictures a scaly body, low to the ground. Its belly drags and slides across the floor. Its claws click on the rough stone. It is closer than it has ever been before. It is close enough for me to hear the harsh rasp of its breath.

I am not afraid. If it tears my body then it will release my soul. I am not afraid. I would welcome death. I am not afraid. There would be a release from my pain. I am not afraid. I am not...

The creature passes close, just outside my range of vision, and then it slithers away. I am weak with relief. I was not afraid but... but...

The adrenaline rush has weakened me. My legs give way abruptly and the chains clink and bite. I choke as the collar pulls tight. I press my head back against the wall and it eases a little but makes me gag and that makes the metal bar bite. Blood trickles over my chin and down my throat and the whimpers come again. I can’t help it. Sometimes my body is not my own. Something is trickling over my chest and stomach. I know it is blood. I felt the wounds tear open.

But all of that pain is as nothing to the tearing pain that rips through my side. I think my ribs are broken. Usually they are nothing but a dull ache constantly tugging at the edge of my consciousness but at times like these they try to tear me apart.

If I had more energy: if there was moisture left in my body: if I wasn’t so hopeless and so tired: then I would weep. But there is nothing left now. I feel empty. There is a strange pressure in my head. My ears are ringing and I can feel the blood pound. Hmm that’s interesting. I hear it. I hear my heartbeat in my head. It is interesting but it does not hold my attention for long. Nothing does.

The pain in my throat it sharp. It brings a bitter taste to my mouth and I pray that it does not make me retch. I try to relax, to control my throat and my stomach. It isn’t as if there is anything in there to come up but the dry retching hurts so much. I don’t want that pain right now. There is enough already.

My head is pounding. It scatters my already fractured concentration. I close my eyes but it really doesn’t make it any better.

When I am able to think I realise that something has changed. It is a subtle change, very subtle but it is distinct nevertheless. It is something inside me, something has happened inside me. For a moment I panic but there is really nothing I can do. The strange feeling engulfs me sweeping me upwards. The pain fades and I feel light and dizzy.

I open my eyes and there are flashes in the darkness. I wonder what they are... but then I realise that they are not there at all, they are inside my head. The shadows twist and writhe and are shot through with patterns of lightening forks. It looks as if there are people there, just on the edges of my vision. Tall beings that are not human. What are they? Why are they here? I blink and they are gone.

Dully I realise that they were never there. I am hallucinating. It happens sometimes when I have been without water for a long time. It is not unfamiliar but this time it is different.

I hear something strange. Is it another animal? It is close that sighing, grunting breath. Very close. Where is it? What is it? The panting increases, the grunts becoming moans. Hell... it’s me. Am I so detached now that my own breathing scares me?

And then the realisation comes. It doesn’t hit me hard. Instead it creeps in, crawling over my body and into my mind. It is not an idea or a thought. It is a certainty. I know. It is a simple realisation and one that I have feared for so long. Feared and craved at the same time. Now that it is here there is neither fear nor craving. There is only simple acceptance. I am dying.

I am not afraid, not angry, not even sad. That I should die here, in this place, alone. Waves of nausea and darkness wash over me but they are not unpleasant. I cough and taste blood. I realise that all this time when I have prayed for death I didn’t mean it. All this time I have been fighting it. Now it doesn’t matter. I am tired and soon I will sleep. I do not welcome it. I do not fight it. I simply acknowledge, and in a strange way I am content.

I close my eyes and watch the images flicker on my closed lids. It’s strange. I am not cold any more. The pain is still there but it doesn’t matter any more. I hear the creature in the darkness but it can come. I don’t care.

I note with little interest that the darkness is stirring. There is more than one creature there now. They are gathering, closing in on me. Maybe they know. Perhaps they scent death.

There is a lightening of the darkness around me. It is not the creatures. There are steps approaching. The guards then? Ah well. At least there will be someone to witness my passing. Someone will tell them, my siblings, those who should care. I don’t care. Whatever comes after ,comes. I will not be here to see it. I don’t care.

“Oh my Gods, My Gods. Here. Quickly. Come quickly. Here.”

The voice surprises me. It is a woman. No women come here. Unless... but it doesn’t sound like my sister. There is warmth in this voice. Maybe I am hallucinating again. I don’t care.

The footsteps come closer. Light bites into my eyes and I try to open them but the light defeats me. It stabs needles of fire into my head and makes me groan.

“Hush. It’s alright. You’re safe now” A soft voice croons very close. Something touches my face and I flinch. Something strokes my hair and I open my eyes, seeing nothing but a blur. Can you hallucinate a touch? “For the love of the Gods hurry.” The voice is harsher, commanding. More footsteps come, more light.

“Easy now. Be careful.”

“Godsdamned. What have they done to him? He looks half dead.”

“More than half I think.”

“Can we debate this later? For now we need to get him down. We can’t afford to be here long. They’ll find the dead guards when the shift changes so we have to be out of here in the next ten minutes or so. Careful now. Careful.”

“Damn... I don’t know where to start.”

“Just hold him up. I’ll get the chains. My fingers are smaller.”

The voices are a blur to me, like the forms which move in and out of my darkened vision. They mean nothing. I close my eyes again. I am tired: so tired. I want to sleep. It is close now, I can feel it. Sleep beckons, whispers, calls.

Aaahh Gods. The pain. I hear myself gasp and choke on the scream as hands brush my face, my lips, my cheek and the bit it removed from between my teeth. The muscles of my jaw go into spasm as for the first time in... so long they are allowed to close my mouth. I grunt as my teeth grind, locked together and my head slams back against the wall making the light zig zag behind my closed eyes.

Cool hands are laid each side of my face for a moment, easing the spasm and the pain. As my jaw relaxes the pain in my mouth takes over. I touch the corner of my lips with my tongue and hiss. They are torn and sore but not as badly as I thought they would be.

And then my head falls forward. I have prayed for this for so long but now that it happens it makes no sense to me. Slowly the realisation permeates my battered and sinking mind that there is a body pressed against mine and my head is resting on the broad shoulder. My face is buried in soft hair and I am breathing the fresh herbal scent of it, overlaid with the tang of musk. Fresh sweat. It is sweet.

I don’t have long to consider this new development because the chains around my wrists fall away and the pain stuns me. The straps around one arm are released and my arm falls bonelessly to drape over the shoulder of the man who holds me. I have no control over it. The pain is incredible. I can barely stand it. The pain of the other arm falling is barely registered. It is just another turn of the wheel.

Oh Gods. Oh Gods. Why is this happening? The pain. The pain is so great I cannot think. I cannot understand what is happening to me. It is too much. I can’t bear it.

“No. No. No.”

“Hush now. Be still. I know it hurts. It will be over soon. The pain will be over soon and we will take you somewhere safe.”

“No. No.”

I am falling, falling. Strong arms are holding me but I am still falling. Someone is whispering in my ear, trying to reassure me. The voice is familiar. The arms are familiar but I am too far gone to recognise them. My body is a mass of pain and I can’t think. I can’t... I can’t.

I hear my breath release in a long sigh and then, at last, I sleep.