06-02-2015, 04:20 AM
The manacles dug into her skin as her full weight hung from them. Wincing in pain, she shifted herself from one side to the other, the futility of it infuriating her. What did she ever do to deserve this?
The beast held her just above the stony floor, the chains dragging noisily beneath her feet. He seemed to exert no effort in supporting both her weight and the weight of the thick chains. Unfortunately, she couldn’t twist around to look him in the face, and call it a hunch, but she didn’t think she would be able to persuade him to release her.
“I don’t suppose you could let me down long enough to let me rest my hands, could you?” Violet tried to turn her head, but her upstretched arms blocked her vision. Bleh.
“Master says to take you to pits. I take you to pits.”
“That’s nice, you can understand what I am saying,” she noted. “Where am I, anyways?”
“Master’s House.”
Violet rolled her eyes. “No shit, Sherlock. I mean, what city is this? Is it another of those verse thingies?”
The bullman snorted. “If Master want you to know, Master will tell you.”
“He’s not my master.”
“He everyone master.” He stopped before a large wooden door, and pushed it open. The darkness yawned before them, a coolness touching the inner stone walls that chilled her naked flesh.
“I am nobody’s property,” she reaffirmed. “So you can go tell him that.”
He didn’t acknowledge her declaration. Instead, he took her into the dark room, and hung her from a hook in the middle of it. “Really?” she moaned.
“Irma come soon. Get you ready for pits.”
“Is this necessary?” she bitched. “My arms hurt.”
“This one not care.”
“Maybe a blanket at least?”
“No.”
“Well, fuck you then.”
He gave her a look that was part hunger, part something else, annoyance? Oh, she hoped. She could at least be a pain in all of their asses until she was free. Ewal turned away from her and slipped his massive frame out of the wooden door, closing it behind him. She heard the latch fall into place, and the noise reverberated around the room. The clank wasn’t just the sound of a locked door, it was the sound of her freedom slipping away.
~*~*~*~*~*~
It was well over an hour before she heard scrabbling outside of the door. She hung there with her head between her arms, chin resting on her chest, trying her best to at least nap before whatever happened. Her arms were on fire as they swelled within the manacles. Cursing every last one of them, Violet whimpered as she struggled against the bonds.
The lock clicked and the door scraped open, a cool wind flowing inward as a barely clothed figure stepped inside. She was definitely a female, and her outfit (if you want to call it that) left very little to the imagination. Black hair slicked back in a heavy brain behind her, laced with the same dark material as her strappy outfit. Her eyes met Violet’s, a clear blue that bordered on silver. They were beautiful, and so out of place on her squared face.
“You must be Irma,” Violet grimaced, wondering what she was even doing here. She’d be just another of the flunkies that would gloat about their master and refuse to let her down. Fuck her, too.
“I am,” she replied, her voice soft, almost compassionate. “I’ve come to prepare you for the pits, as Master instructed.”
“There’s that ‘master’ crap again.”
“Master demands, I obey.”
“I’m guessing that asking you to let me down so I can rest my arms is a no, right?”
She nodded. “I cannot let you down unless Master says so.”
“Do you do everything your master says without question? Did it ever occur to any of you that this shit hurts? It’s inhumane!” she griped.
“Disobedience does not please Master.” Irma murmured. Violet glared at her, finally noticing a bucket in one of her hands. Something dark sloshed inside.
“What’s that?” Violet motioned to the bucket.
“It is anointing liquid. It will purify your body before the ceremony,” she explained as she sat it on a nearby bench. From somewhere in those little straps, she also produced a sponge and some kind of dark grease, both of which she sat beside the bucket.
“Ceremony?” Violet rasped. “Nobody said shit about a ceremony. What the hell’s going on?”
Irma’s pale face lifted to hers, a rapturous smile spread across the smoothness. Her silvery eyes twinkled. They fucking actually twinkled. “You will fight for our Master, and bring him honor and riches. Winning pleases him greatly.”
“Fantastic,” she grumbled. “And if I lose?”
The fabulous smile faltered. “You do not want to lose.”
Vi quirked a brow. “It’s not like he can kill me. I’m one of those…prime things. We’re unkillable.”
Irma’s eyes suddenly darkened, a streak of panic washing over her face. “There are things much worse than death.”
The beast held her just above the stony floor, the chains dragging noisily beneath her feet. He seemed to exert no effort in supporting both her weight and the weight of the thick chains. Unfortunately, she couldn’t twist around to look him in the face, and call it a hunch, but she didn’t think she would be able to persuade him to release her.
“I don’t suppose you could let me down long enough to let me rest my hands, could you?” Violet tried to turn her head, but her upstretched arms blocked her vision. Bleh.
“Master says to take you to pits. I take you to pits.”
“That’s nice, you can understand what I am saying,” she noted. “Where am I, anyways?”
“Master’s House.”
Violet rolled her eyes. “No shit, Sherlock. I mean, what city is this? Is it another of those verse thingies?”
The bullman snorted. “If Master want you to know, Master will tell you.”
“He’s not my master.”
“He everyone master.” He stopped before a large wooden door, and pushed it open. The darkness yawned before them, a coolness touching the inner stone walls that chilled her naked flesh.
“I am nobody’s property,” she reaffirmed. “So you can go tell him that.”
He didn’t acknowledge her declaration. Instead, he took her into the dark room, and hung her from a hook in the middle of it. “Really?” she moaned.
“Irma come soon. Get you ready for pits.”
“Is this necessary?” she bitched. “My arms hurt.”
“This one not care.”
“Maybe a blanket at least?”
“No.”
“Well, fuck you then.”
He gave her a look that was part hunger, part something else, annoyance? Oh, she hoped. She could at least be a pain in all of their asses until she was free. Ewal turned away from her and slipped his massive frame out of the wooden door, closing it behind him. She heard the latch fall into place, and the noise reverberated around the room. The clank wasn’t just the sound of a locked door, it was the sound of her freedom slipping away.
~*~*~*~*~*~
It was well over an hour before she heard scrabbling outside of the door. She hung there with her head between her arms, chin resting on her chest, trying her best to at least nap before whatever happened. Her arms were on fire as they swelled within the manacles. Cursing every last one of them, Violet whimpered as she struggled against the bonds.
The lock clicked and the door scraped open, a cool wind flowing inward as a barely clothed figure stepped inside. She was definitely a female, and her outfit (if you want to call it that) left very little to the imagination. Black hair slicked back in a heavy brain behind her, laced with the same dark material as her strappy outfit. Her eyes met Violet’s, a clear blue that bordered on silver. They were beautiful, and so out of place on her squared face.
“You must be Irma,” Violet grimaced, wondering what she was even doing here. She’d be just another of the flunkies that would gloat about their master and refuse to let her down. Fuck her, too.
“I am,” she replied, her voice soft, almost compassionate. “I’ve come to prepare you for the pits, as Master instructed.”
“There’s that ‘master’ crap again.”
“Master demands, I obey.”
“I’m guessing that asking you to let me down so I can rest my arms is a no, right?”
She nodded. “I cannot let you down unless Master says so.”
“Do you do everything your master says without question? Did it ever occur to any of you that this shit hurts? It’s inhumane!” she griped.
“Disobedience does not please Master.” Irma murmured. Violet glared at her, finally noticing a bucket in one of her hands. Something dark sloshed inside.
“What’s that?” Violet motioned to the bucket.
“It is anointing liquid. It will purify your body before the ceremony,” she explained as she sat it on a nearby bench. From somewhere in those little straps, she also produced a sponge and some kind of dark grease, both of which she sat beside the bucket.
“Ceremony?” Violet rasped. “Nobody said shit about a ceremony. What the hell’s going on?”
Irma’s pale face lifted to hers, a rapturous smile spread across the smoothness. Her silvery eyes twinkled. They fucking actually twinkled. “You will fight for our Master, and bring him honor and riches. Winning pleases him greatly.”
“Fantastic,” she grumbled. “And if I lose?”
The fabulous smile faltered. “You do not want to lose.”
Vi quirked a brow. “It’s not like he can kill me. I’m one of those…prime things. We’re unkillable.”
Irma’s eyes suddenly darkened, a streak of panic washing over her face. “There are things much worse than death.”
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