She was locked away.
It had been a long time, so much longer than she was willing to further consider. In here there was no day, no night. Just one suspended moment in a stagnant reality, affirmed by an ever present musky odor. When she was first locked away, she still had a graspable sense of hope, and back then that musk was still fantasized about, conjuring images of cheese platters and exotic cuisines - But now, in the dying of such young esteem, the same pungent odor was nothing more to her than the piss it actually was. Still, the six inch hole in the corner of her cell was her only friend. In a way, that small dark void somehow kept kindled what dwindling hope she had left for freedom.
Directly above her empty friend was a tiny orange light embedded in the concrete of the ceiling, shedding just enough glow to illuminate the iron door and patches of mildew on all four stone walls of her cramped enclosure. She would have considered the light a friend too, had it not been watching her from the start. She could feel them watching. Always watching. It was an eye for sure, one bright little eye glaring down at her like some demented portal to the mind of hell where her unseen captors continued their undying surveillance.
“Fuck you….”
This wasn’t the first time she verbally abused the light while squinting into its glare, though she felt her nasty tone had lost a lot of exuberance over time. The second word of her abuse faded out while her eyes slowly dropped to her lap. She had long since forsaken any cordial demeanor toward her captors. Being polite and asking the light nicely for mercy had never proven productive, but then… cussing it hadn’t proven to help either.
“Your name is Camilla…. Camilla…. Cam….” She uttered to herself, as one finger listlessly scratching at the layered bloodstains in the crotch of her jeans. “Don’t forget… never forget… your name –”
With a sharp, metallic grind that used to make her jump and yet still never failed to make her wince, a slot in the base of the door opened and produced a small wooden tray of slop. It was always the same, a handful portion of meat and green beans sitting in a bed of water and doused in a brown gravy-like substance. Honestly, it didn’t taste so bad, a little on the salty side. Reminded her of pork, only a tad more gamy. Of course, eating the exact same thing for as long as she’d been a prisoner wasn’t exactly an enriching experience.
After the slot in the door slammed shut, Camilla stared at her rations, tucked a strand of her tangled brown hair behind her ear, and for the first time considered not eating. Sure, she was hungry. She was always hungry, and the intervals between meals seemed far longer than a day, but the time had finally come to make a stand. It was clear her captors wanted her alive, had they not, they would have long since let her starve to death, if not just killed her outright.
Extending one leg she overturned the food with a swift flick of her bare foot, before raising her sights to the glare of the light and announcing her protest.
“No.”
Eyes fixed on her nemesis, she pushed to her feet, forcing herself not to rest back against the wall as she teetered for a time gaining balance.
“No more. Nothing. Let me out…. I won’t be your victim. I will die…. I’d prefer to be dead than be your caged rabbit.” As Camilla continued to speak, her initiative gave birth to a new flood of emotion that sprung a tear from her eye, tumbling down her cheek in the rising vigor of her tone. “I swear to God, I’ll die in here – I’ll just fucking kill myself if you don’t let me out.” Her bottom lip began to quiver. Her voice began to tremble. “Just… please… let me go… home.”
Three more overturned meals and an unbearable duration without sleep, finally resulted in the door being thrown open. Like the air itself had come alive, two barely visible figures stormed into Camilla’s cell and seized her by both arms. Before she even knew what was happening she was being dragged down an ill lit corridor at an alarming rate. She screamed to be released with legs scrambling in her wake while she frantically pleaded with her captors to let her walk, but she had neither the strength nor agility to break their hold or gain footing. Eventually she gave in and let herself be limply dragged to her next destination, wherever that may have been. What seemed like a mile long journey down a twisted arrangement of passageways, she found herself in a room where her arms and legs were bound to the cold steel of a metallic chair, her head strapped tight to its backrest.
The room was dark. Nothing could be seen, nor could anything be heard over the sound of her own exasperated breathing for several minutes, a period of time ruptured by her own screams of agony when, with the sound like that of nail guns, three hot objects pierced deep into the bones behind each ears.
“Go to hell, you bastards!” She yelled out while the pain in her head dissipated, leaving her once again in moment of stark silence.
“Taska-ast-heak” said a masculine voice, though it was broken and grated, causing her to squirm in her seat as it overpowered her auditory nerves like the static sound of a two way radio tuning into a new frequency. Another moment of silence ensued, intermittently broken by high pitched static, and ending with the return of the voice now speaking with clarity: “Do you understand?”
Camilla had a white-knuckle grip on the arms of her chair, which loosened considerably at the sound of the man’s words. His voice was surprisingly calm, soothing, even to the point of relaxing her like she’d been injected by a small dose morphine. Her eyes darted about in the darkness, attempting to place face to the voice.
“Do you understand?” He asked again, sounding even more lenitive than he previous had.
“Who the hell….” Her eyes continued searching the darkness. “…Who are you?”
“Do you understa – “
“YES, I UNDERSTAND YOU – FUCK!” She shrunk in her seat, somehow feeling rude for interrupting his third attempt with such an outburst. She allowed her nerves to relax a while longer, her flickering eyes easing to a still and settling on the darkness ahead. “Who are you…?” She swallowed the dry lump that had formed in her throat. “What do you want with me?”
An oddly comforting quite resumed to take hold of the darkness once more, seemingly perfect in its timing before subtly broken by the man’s reply; “We are Kradam.” He Paused. “We have a request of you.”
“I don’t do requests,” She responded, though no immediate thought was given to her words. “What the hell is going on here?”
“We have a request of you.”
Camilla sighed and released a long whine of exhaustion. “…I know that already. Please… I just don’t understand what’s happening – me and my friends, we were exploring the ash lands. We found some… something. The next thing I know I’m locked away in some small room for what seems like years. Please, just tell me why this is happening to me.”
“Your friends are dead.”
Camilla’s heart sunk, eyes narrows and turned as if she could see the man she was speaking with. “What?”
“Your friends are dead.” He informed her again, just as matter-of-fact as the first time.
“No….” A tear broke from her eye, yet she didn’t otherwise react. She already knew they were dead, however, and receiving confirmation of the fact served as closure, providing a strange sense of comfort while recalling the faded images of her friends faces.
“You and your fellow man trespassed on our land," He told her, "This we can not tolerate. You were punished according to our laws of transgression. In time your friends died, however their bodies were not set to waste. You will be comforted to know they served as nutrients to your survival here. Your friends have become one with you.”
Fortunately, Camilla didn’t hear that part. She had known those friends since school years. They were inseparable. They did everything together. A faint smile formed on her face as her mind streamed back recounting many of the great times they had spent together.
“We have found peculiar interest in you alone.” He continued; “You are not like the others. We have studied you. Our observation of you has concluded you are worthy to serve our cause....”
Her mind started drifting to the present, once again listening to the soothing words transmitted through the devices piercing her temporal bone.
“…For this reason we have kept you alive. You will serve our cause. You will address our developing needs. Do you understand?”
“No.” She said, eyes shifting uneasy through the darkness again. “Not a chance. You need to tell me. What happened to my parents? Where’s my family?”
“Your kin are of no concern to us. We have no knowledge of their whereabouts. It is pointless to concern yourself with such things. You will conform to serve our needs.”
“No, I won’t.” She said, wrestling with the braces that held her arms and legs. “You’re going to let me go. I want to leave now.”
“You will not leave.” The man’s voice was changing, remaining steady, yet lacking the soothing quality it previously delivered. “You will conform to serve our needs.”
Camilla became anxious, every muscle in her body tense, fists clenched as she strained to bust through her restraints. “No.” She said, curtly. “You killed my friends. I’ll do nothing for you!”
“You will conform to serve our needs.”
“I will not conform to serve your needs!” She raised her voice, twisting and jerking to free herself. “I’m getting the fuck out of this place even if I have kill every last one of you fuckers to do it!”
“You will conform to serve our needs.”
“I will do no such thing!” She screamed, convulsing and surging with every ounce of strength she could muster. “Just let me go! I just wanna go home – JUST LET ME GO HOME!”
“You will conform to serve our needs.”
Days,
Harrington,
Vampiretwilight,
Krasnaya,
Carnelian,
WhiteAngel25,
Makino,
Jen,
Riley Hart,
Lotus Moon
