Her mind had reverted into some kind of primal survival instinct. Coherent thoughts had, for the most part, been brushed aside. She understood only that food would be pushed through the slot of a door, usually soup with oats and barley. Sometimes she would see fingers, but she knew it was futile to try and catch them. She also knew that if she had to defecate, to do it into the long, foul-smelling, funneled hole in the stone that would pipe her waste to the beyond. She had tried to enlarge that hole once. The taste was still in her mouth.
She knew her body was weak. Her hair had come out in gnarled clumps, and they pooled at her feet as she huddled against the dirty stone wall. The bags under her once vivid eyes told the tale of a lack of sleep. Once beautiful features had been twisted by the short time that she had spent in the tower. Her nose was broken in several places, leaving it arched to the right as though it smelled something more intriguing than the rest of her head. An eyelid had been split open, making the eye angrily red and filled with pus along the tear duct that coagulated in a green-white mass. A corner of her mouth sagged, the welt there making it warped and worried as she chewed on it nervously with broken teeth.
Not one hand had been set upon her.
The king's decree had been obeyed.
Yet it had also been broken. Before her final sentient thoughts slipped into the ether, Evangilene knew that he had been sent by his father. It was the only thing she could think to justice that nightmarish presence. It had been some time now, but she was not fooled. In some base instinct, she knew he would be back. Sometimes she had written him begging, pleading missives of forgiveness onto the wall with the blood from fingers that no longer had nails.
Two weeks since the door was locked behind her.
Trylstrian smiled from behind the grill of the high tower. He was holding on, with nothing to prevent the plummeting fall should he let go. She was asleep. He always came to her when she was asleep, which kept her from sleeping peacefully. As a matter of course he never let her rest for more than three hours at a time. The torture required for his plans was a very specific and time consuming process.
Fortunately, Trylstrian was no longer alone. His master had finally given him knowledge of the necromantic arts, and he employed them to their fullest. Sandestins, the sometimes invisible ghosts of imps, were stationed in the tower to give him word of her habits. This left him to attend to other matters until he was required.
Now was one of those times. It was also the last. She had suffered enough, and the magician was pleased with how far along she had come. All of the symptoms made her a ripe candidate. So with ease, he drifted into the entranceless room. His fingers were disgustingly twisted and broken into configurations of power, and his smile was wide as he watched the girl...
...Awake. Something was wrong in the air, and it scared her. She bolted upright, trembling like a leaf, and attempted to stand. It was difficult. Her limbs shoot and jolted as if they would snap underneath her, but her elbow dragged on the wall for support. The room was empty. Yet she knew. He was here. Why did he not show himself? She had come to understand that these moments would come, and thus had somewhat prepared herself for them. But this was new.
A sudden knock upon the door. Panic creeping down her knotted spine as she twisted around, staring with bulging, wild eyes. No. Impossible. She was here forever. Forever and ever and when the angels came to take her away, she would finally know how long forever really was. Yet the knock came again. It rocked her body as if she was being struck. Slow, wobbling steps started towards the huge, iron obstacle. She could see no handle nor lock, but she could hear both being manipulated. Almost as if someone were intending to...
The door swung open quicker than lightning, slamming the iron against the wall so that Evangilene screamed in terror. The light flooded the room, brilliant, brighter than any living being could ever reproduce. There was a shape in the light, some strange, wafting shadow. It began to take a more firm form as it moved through the passage and revealed itself to be her father. She would have still been scared, except that his arms were spread wide, and his smile was so peaceful, so loving. Her mouth quaked as she tried to shape words, the welt making it painful. Yet for the first time, sentient thoughts came.
"Pa-papa...?"
The king's wide smile seemed to grow even sweeter. "All is forgiven, my daughter, my favoured and belov'd daughter. Come to me now. Come to me, so that I can bring you back to Nefertise and Uhtred and Raij. They will keep you safe, now."
Of course she fell into his arms. And by God, she did not fall through them. They were real. Oh, how warm they felt! Radiating in the glow of that strange light and his love, his love that took her back a bit so that he could...
She only realized that something was wrong when the rags upon her torso were no longer upon her. Her nakedness presented to her father, who groped her roughly and slid his face closer. Eyes went wide as she happened to glance down to the rigid...
The fire shot between her legs, ripping into the flesh and burning it to the pelvic bone as she was lifted into the air. Her skull collided against the ceiling with a sickening thud. Her spine made an awful crackling sound as it was nearly wrenched away from itself. She fell flat upon the floor, and would have lost consciousness instantly if it hadn't been for the sudden, dominant form of father as he lifted her up by the lower jaw (dislocating it) and shoved her against the wall.
The slide of the blade caught in her belly, making her eyes bulge and her teeth try to clench around the grip of her jaw. He was not her father anymore, but him. His eyes were literally fire, streaming tongue of flame making his bald head shine with the reflection as the blade's steel twisted and churned her intestines. Blood sluiced from the hold as she tried to fondle it. Yet everything seemed to stop when he opened his mouth.
Trylstrian opened his mouth as wide as he could, and then wider as his jaws unhinged like a serpent. They stretched until her face was in his mouth, and the crackling hiss of screaming told him when she finally gave up her life so that he could chew it up and return it to her as something else.
Tue Sep 30, 2008 6:29 pm