So once again I’m a day late with this one, but it’s due to the fact that my cat got sick again and had to go back to the vet yesterday. Long story short, he’s got a bad infection and is still there, so I’ve been so preoccupied with worrying about him that yesterday I just couldn’t focus on the computer long enough to write more than a quick email to a friend. I’m back again, and I’m hoping that the news from the vet today will be good, and until I do hear from them, I’m going to use my time wisely and get some writing done. So with that said, here’s today’s entry for my challenge.
It’s slightly dark, so this is your warning. My mind goes to very dark places fairly often, and it’s best to just write or draw to get those images out of my head. Just be warned, it’s not for everyone, and it’s definitely NSFW.
The room was dark, barely any torches lit. It was always like this. Her eyes had become accustomed to the low light in all of her years locked in the space.
Something had changed, though. There was what looked like a body across the room from her, just at the edge of where the light touched. No sounds came from it, and it seemed less than a living thing. The blood had pooled on the floor around it, and she could see exposed muscle and bone, but it didn’t move.
She hadn’t heard the door of her prison open at any point, so she wondered how long and how deeply she had slept for her captor to have brought this thing in without her hearing. She always heard the door open, that sound that signaled the fleeting moment of hope that she may escape.
As she watched, she could see what looked like the tiny movements of miniscule breaths, as if the thing was still taking very laboured breaths. It didn’t seem to move at all aside from that, though, so she waited for it’s death, hoping it would come quickly. It was a pathetic thing, so broken that there was so saving it aside from to hope for a quick death to relieve it.
The longer she watched, the more she felt sorry for it. She wondered what it was. An animal maybe? Surely not a human or angel. This mass of exposed flesh and blood and insides did not seem to add up to the form of either in any way.
Days passed and it seemed to be holding on to every breath. She wondered why it wouldn’t just let go and die. Why would it want to continue to suffer instead of giving in to the bliss of death and the peace it would surely bring.
On the sixth day it moved. She watched as it forced itself to roll over, and she heard what sounded like a pained groan come from it.
She waited in agony as it slowly rolled itself over and tried to sit up, seeing that it was the shape of a man, although it had been so terribly mangled that it would have been unrecognizable to even the closest of its friends or family.
She could hear heavy breaths from it, and they were louder and more pronounced than they had been before. There was a quiet groan as it finally managed to move itself into the position it was aiming for, and then it stopped moving completely, the only movements coming from it being the quick and tiny breaths it took.
It was definitely the shape of a man, and his eyes were closed now. She had only caught a glimpse of them while open, and she had not taken note of the colour or shade. All she saw was the pain, and she hoped it would end for him soon. She didn’t think it was even possible to continue living with such terrible injuries, and yet he had lasted a week at minimum, possibly even longer before he had ever been put in the room with her.
Days passed, and she saw him growing stronger. His movements were more regular, and she could hear it whispering to itself at times. The wounds even seemed to be healing in some miraculous way.
The muscles were beginning to become less visible as skin was growing back, and she would hear pops as bones were reset almost like magic. Hair was growing on his head, faster than what should have happened, and she questioned if her sense of time was so skewed that her days weren’t days at all, but weeks.
She awoke one day to find him sitting up, propped against the wall near the door. He looked more human now, even familiar in strange ways. When he saw her looking at him, he smiled in a way that broke her heart, like he recognized her too.
She was overcome with the urge to speak to him, to ask him who he was and talk to him, have a real conversation with a real person for the first time in what seemed like forever. Unsure of whether this was a good idea or not, she remained silent.
There were noises from outside the room then, and the door swung open forcefully to reveal their captor.
He reached down and picked up the man who had shared her prison for a month, forcing him to stand against the wall while he handed her a small trinket box. She chose not to open it, watching the two men instead.
As she looked up from her bed, she heard a small whisper from the man she had watched for a month, the one she had seen go from nearly dead to standing on his own.
“I’ll come back for you,” he said to her as their captor pushed him angrily out the door., slamming it behind them and leaving her alone once more.