A loud ‘click’ that seemed to bounce off her cell walls and dance around her longer then it should have woke her from a sleep she didn’t remembering falling into.
Sitting up and tucking her knees underneath her she held her breathe as she brought up her hand to the black collar around her neck,
Slowly she counted the number of notches she could feel this time.
Fighting back the tears that threatened to spill over she counted to twelve before her fingers bumped into the buckle.
She swallowed back a sob and nearly gagged from the now slightly tighter pressure on her poor sore throat.
This…collar…was a very special device,
One used when nothing else would work and sometimes before then, when the Hierarchy family and friends were bored and needed to be entertained.
A most vile thing, that when first shown she thought it had been some sort of belt with notches all around it.
It wasn’t till a few hours later, after the first two ‘clicks’ that she realized with horror what it was meant to do,
Either with clockwork or a certain spell, she didn’t know which,
The collar around her neck would tighten its self ever tighter till it either was tight enough so she couldn’t eat or drink or maybe till she could no longer breathe,
Or,
If the timer was sped up,
It would crush her neck altogether.
She gently touched the skin on her neck that had been rubbed raw by the collar,
She winced as her fingertips ran over the claw marks she had given herself in her sleep.
Tears that she could no longer fight back flooded over and ran down her dirty cheeks leaving behind white clean streaks.
She wanted to give up,
to curl into a ball and die.
She wanted to scream and fight,
to have somebody in front of her,
BLEEDING.
With deadly calm she stood to her feet and did not waver,
With a ? fury ? that dried her tears and burned away every other emotion
She walked to her cell’s door.
She gently rapped on the doors thick wood ignoring the claw marks and old blood.
When the spy hole was opened and the guard looked in,
For a moment his eyes met hers and for just that moment he was paralyzed with fear.
Surly this was death looking upon him!!
When he didn’t say anything she leaned towards the spy hole either ignoring or just not noticing the look of terror on his face and crooned,
“Tell your Lords and Ladies that I am ready to talk.”
The guard blinked a few times to clear his vision and realized with relief that she was just a little girl and nothing more.
When her words finally set in he sneered at her,
“Knew ya’d talk, they always do o’nce the col’lar is put on.”
Before he slapped the spy hole shut she smiled at him,
he fought back the sudden urge to runaway screaming as he turned to the long spiral stairway that led up,
“Yes, they do, don’t they.”
He heard her say no louder then a whisper,
Unable to fight it any longer he ran.
KMB
August 2008
(Side Note:
This…story…idea…whatever…
Popped into my head early one morning,
I’m still not sure if it was an after image of
A dream I had been having or if it was
just a lone picture in my head begging to be released.
In anyway the image that I saw clear as day was someone
Sitting in the middle of a small cold cell
holding their hands to their throat
and the sound (yes the picture had sound) of a loud click.
Since my hand doesn’t like the thought of drawing
I instead put words to it.
I don’t know who she is, all I know is that she has important
Information that the Hierarchy wants and they are willing
To torture and maim those who have such information.
I also know that when she goes before them to “talk” to them
That they are all going to die.
I’m not one hundred percent sure I like this “story”.
Because,
in all honesty,
all it really is,
is a poor substitute to a morbid thought and picture.)
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