Author: desert anbu PM
Prelude to something more bitter than sweet.Rated: Fiction T - English - Words: 384 - Reviews: 10 - Favs: 4 - Published: 08-21-04 - Status: Complete - id: 2023436
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
I suppose this is a prelude to something else, but whatever. Stream of consciousness writing.
Disclaimer: I own the character and the plot, that's it. Leave the situation and oppositions to your imagination.
Cold… Pinpricks darted over her numb skin, pain that was barely registered in the sluggish mind. Limbs cramped from being curled in a fetal position, flesh sticking to the icy floor… How long…? Minutes? Hours? Days? There was no way of knowing.
Salt encrusted eyelids shuddered and forced themselves to slowly open, revealing only a world full of blurry shadows. Plumes of white mist escaped her cracked and bleeding lips in soft puffs, ghosting over and briefly warming her skin before the cold sunk in once more. A violent shudder shook her bruised body and her eyes closed tightly, attempting to pull her knees even closer to her chin in order to preserve body heat but she found that it caused too much pain.
Somewhere in her semiconscious mind she grasped the sense to at least examine whatever wrong had been done to her body and possibly do something about it. It took more effort than she would have ever thought possible to force herself into a kneeling position, one hand bracing her body weight on the stone floor and the other clutching her side, the only part of her that seemed to be warm. But why…?
A soft groan escaped her and she slowly shook her head, lifting her free hand to touch her temples, wincing when she found yet another wound there. So much pain… So cold… Why…? No…sleep…just sleep…
No! No, wake up!
She slowly slid against the wall, pressing her back against the corner of the tiny cell. Her side screamed in protest and she numbly lifted her hand, barely able to register the fact that the thick crimson liquid that dripped down her wrist and over her palm was blood. Her blood. Eyes seeing only a blur, she brought the hand to her mouth and the tip of her tongue touched her index finger, slowly licking it clean. Warmth… Heat, pain, salt… Iron…life.
The back of her head gently struck the wall, her eyes closed, blood-stained lips pulling into a tiny smile. It's not over yet.