Erza Lost [M]

[Erza Scarlet]

It wasn't often that Erza welcomed the coppery musk of blood. In the past, that scent had been accompanied only by suffering, hatred, and death. But now, its brilliant metallic overtones served at the very least to mask the ever-present perfume of vomit and human waste.

It was a small comfort, considering its source. Her now-ragged toe, nail ground to the quick and skin flayed off to the bone, continued to dig doggedly at the sole imperfection in her current prison. The box jolted suddenly - Not for the first time, but that didn't make it any less unexpected - And Erza Scarlet's infected, mistreated foot collided with the granite floor. This time, she passed out not from lack of air, but from the pain.

Mere minutes passed, but Erza had no way of knowing that. Then again, she never had. When she came to, it was in a flurry of curses. The pain that had sent her under had not disappeared with time. Her toe was now, apparently, actually broken - the joint had been severed clean, and half of her toe was hanging on by a mere thread of tendon. She no longer had a chisel with which to escape her prison, and it seemed unlikely that one would be dropped in for her any time soon.

But that crack was her only way out. And there was only so much longer she could deal with the vomit caked in her hair and on her cheeks before giving up completely.

"Dammit, where the HELL is Gildarts when you need to break something!?"

Erza lay for a moment, unmoving - One can only fly in the face of propriety for so long before succumbing to grim reality - before letting out a resigned sigh and getting back into position. There was only a single remaining solution, excluding the possibility of rescue.

Erza shifted once more time to the left, bringing the side of her foot down on the now-slightly-enlarged crack. She winced, straining her face to keep from fainting again. She ground her teeth for a moment before clenching them together, hard. What must be done, must be done... She began to rub her foot against the scratch. The skin flayed, bit by bit, off of her foot -And not long after, the muscle, tendons, and blood vessels under it.

It took a few waking sessions, but the bone was now exposed. And it could be sharpened.

She continued scraping her foot against the cracked floor. Blood was pooling not only by her feet, but in the whole container now as Erza's foot gushed from the abuse.

Bleeding to death or drowning at this point would be... Unfortunate, and quite unpleasant, but a welcome escape from this torment. Better to just break the box.

Erza continued to scrape.