|My Own Prison
Author: almathea PM
Harper is held captive on an alien world. Harper POVRated: Fiction T - English - Drama/Supernatural - S. Harper - Chapters: 2 - Words: 1,876 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 3 - Published: 08-02-05 - Status: Complete - id: 2514904
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Disclaimer: I don't own Andromeda, or anything else, for that matter. Just this computer here.
My Own Prison
Chapter 1: Alone
Why the hell did we have to come to this god forsaken planet anyway? There's not even anything here, except for me. And that's all because she told me to get off the Maru, and go look around. So I went. I looked. And big surprise, there's jack-shit on this planet. And then something really important happened, that drew Beka's attention away from this pathetic rock, and she fucking left me here!
So here I am, wandering through the wilderness. I'm not even sure what I'm looking for. But I'm looking. Wouldn't she be surprised if she came back here and saw that I was actually doing what she told me to. Then I see it. A building, the only one around. It's built against the side of a mountain for reasons I can only guess at.
So I go check it out. That's why I'm here, right? Then I find that it's not just a building against a hill. The building is like a doorway into the hill. Past the front door, the building is just a small room with another door on the other side. That door opens onto a tunnel, which leads back into the mountain.
I follow this tunnel until it opens up into a cave with torches on the walls. There are chains and other such things attached to the wall. What the hell? Then I hear it. Footsteps behind me. And a voice, an angry one.
"You are not deserving!"
The next thing I hear is something solid connecting with the back of my skull. The world goes black as I wonder what I ever did to piss off the entire universe.
Now, I thought that was bad, but it was about to get a whole lot worse. When I come to, I find that my wrists are in chains. The same ones I saw when I first walked into this hellhole. My arms ache because I'm almost on my knees, but the chains aren't quite long enough, so I'm just hanging in a pathetic slump.
I shift my weight onto my feet to take the strain off my arms. Then I make the mistake of looking up. The is a figure in front of me. I assume it's the same one who bludgeoned me. I can't see a face, it's covered by something. A veil or something. But I can see the eyes. Bright green, and narrowed in anger. At me.
"Drop your eyes! You are not worthy!"
Before I can lower my eyes, a sharp blow strikes me across the face. In an instant I can taste blood as I feel it trickle down my chin. But I keep my eyes down. Then I get the bright idea to ask a question.
"Why are you doing th—" I am cut off by the sudden impact in my stomach. I can hardly breathe and I lose my footing. I come to an abrupt stop as the chains reach their limit, and I hear a sickening pop as my shoulder jumps out of its socket. I want to scream, but I still can't breathe. So, I resort to making pathetic gasping sounds, much to the apparent delight of the figure in front of me.
Then they just leave. They leave me here, bleeding and broken. But I know they'll be back. When they're ready to torture me again. And now, alone, I start wondering. Not deserving, not worthy. Maybe it's true. Maybe I'm not. But deserving of what? Life, a voice in my head offers. Sure, I think, why didn't I die years ago? I've had plenty of chances. Sometimes I think the world would be better off without me.
Why didn't I just give up? Every time I should have just laid down and died, I picked myself up again. And what for? So I could be abandoned on some pointless speck of a planet? Is that what my life has been leading up to?
I am left wondering as I lean back on the wall and slowly drift from consciousness.