The Dragon Lord's Wish

Ep 4: The Voice

Surely this was my descent into madness. I couldn’t have possibly heard someone talking to me. I wait for a few minutes to see if I hear anything. Nothing. As to be expected. It wasn’t worth it to waste my energy on a supposed hallucination.

I struggle to try to move my arms, sending shocks of pain through me. They had been bound for so long that the numbness and the aches were clouding my thinking. How can I get myself out of this?

Think, damn it, think!!

I try once again to stand but the chain is steadfast to the wall. My feet slip out from under me on the wet floor, the clasp around my neck chokes me again. I struggle for a moment, but then I think, for just a moment, would ending my suffering now be better than enduring whatever Chappon has in store for me? I’ve endured so many things over the past few years being on my own but I’m not sure how much more torture I could take.

I let my legs relax under me, putting all my weight into the clasp around my neck. I can’t breathe. Perhaps it's best this way. It’s on my own terms. Maybe it will even be peaceful and faster than torture.

No… No... No, no, no, no, no, no! I would not die down here like a chained animal. Chappon would have to kill me himself.

I bring my tired legs underneath me again and crouch once more, taking deep breaths.

Come on Jacqueline, think.

My brain starts to take stock and logic slowly returns to my mind. I start to take note of possible injuries that I have. I have cuts everywhere and my entire body is bruised, that much I am sure of.

I think one of my eyes is swelling shut, but it is hard to tell with the blindfold. I run my tongue from one corner of my mouth to the other. Great. Perfect. I am missing a tooth behind my top right canine. The right corner of my mouth is spilt. I know my neck must look atrocious by how hard it was to move it. The chain and clasp continue to burn into me.

It hurts my ribs to breathe. My back is beyond sore. I think one of my shoulders is out of place. May have happened when one of his brutes was too rough with me. My feet have cuts on the bottom, and they are cold. Possibly too cold. I make note to wiggle my toes every few minutes.

As I crouch, I rotate one of my legs to stretch out and rest while putting my weight fully on the other. I then stand bent at the waist to attempt to stretch my back out. I make a small routine that helps to keep me awake and to keep away thoughts of giving up. Wiggle toes, stretch right, stretch left, stand and stretch back, crouch to rest and repeat.

After repeating this routine around 5 times I hear a pair of footsteps coming closer to my cell. A set of light footsteps is accompanied by heavier, ominous ones. They get closer, the suspense builds as I strain myself to smell or hear anything to give me a clue as to who is coming in my direction.

My stomach drops as I hear a sly chuckle.

“Well darling, good to see you haven’t given up. It would have ruined my good mood,” Chappon laughs as the door to my cell is opened. One rough hand holds me by my forearm as shocks of pain are sent through me, I cry out, but it is muffled by the gag.

I hear the chain being undone, and I can finally stand. The blood rushes through my legs as I take some full breaths and I realize that most likely some of my ribs are broken.

I struggle to stay upright as I’m disoriented and exhausted from my injuries. My legs shake. Rough hands hold me steady as the gag and blindfold are removed. I cough several times and spit to attempt to get the foul taste of the gag out of my mouth with no success. I blink, but my eyes only see black spots in the low lights.

A hand takes my chin wrenching my head upwards. I gasp at the pain.

“Hello dear, are we feeling more compliant now?” Chappon says with a wicked smile.

I can only open one of my eyes as my suspicion is confirmed that the other is swollen shut. I blink rapidly, trying to adjust my eye to the dim torchlight and all I can see is teeth. Long, black, disgusting teeth twisted into that smile that was now seared into my memory.

“No, you will never have me, you pig. You’ll have to kill me,” I try to fight, but the big brute is holding me with crushing force.

“Oh, my dear sweet girl, I will have you one way or another. That or you’ll kill yourself from exhaustion. Hard to sleep well in a dungeon, isn’t it?” He snickers and then forces his lips against mine, trying to weasel his tongue into my mouth. His stubble and sweaty skin grinds against my face. I open my mouth, allowing him to sweep his tongue around my mouth, almost gagging at the disgust, and then I bite down.

“AGH!!” he tries to pull away from me, but I’m determined not to let him go. Just as I’m starting to taste his blood, thwack!

His cane has once again made contact with my head. I let go of his tongue and my head lulls to one side as I struggle to stay conscious. He rips my head back to make me look at him.

“You think you can fight your way out of this? You think you can escape? Darling, no one escapes me. Just ask them.” He turns and holds the torch towards the end of the cell. The brute holds me by my chain to bring me into view of what Chappon was showing me.

Bones. It was just a pile of bones and bodies. That’s where the smell of decay came from. There were so many. On the top of the pile there was a girl with brown hair. Her flat eyes seemed to be staring right at me.

“Take a good look at your future darling,” He takes my chin into his hand and strokes my cheek with his thumb, “Wouldn’t it be better to be with me? I would be much more lively company anyway. Ha-ha ha-ha!”

He throws his head back and cackles. Now I knew for certain I was going to die down here. But I was determined to die fighting.

“Secure her hands over her head and secure her feet. If she won’t say yes willingly, I’ll beat it out of her!” he shrieks as he throws me back against the brute.

The brute unbinds my arms. My left arm flops at an awkward angle I know my shoulder is out of place. The pain as blood floods my arm is almost too much to bear.

I’m gasping from the sharp shock when my arms are pulled in front of me, chained together and placed on a hook above my head. I whimper with each breath as I can feel my ribs grinding against each other with each inhale. My feet are placed in restraints making me spread my legs and my hips begin to scream as it stretches me.

“Please, just kill me,” I whisper.

“Sorry, what was that? I don’t understand anything but ‘yes monsieur,’” Chappon cackles while unsheathing a whip from his belt. He looks at me and drops his head to one side. “Hmm, first I think we should clean you up. Right Louis? If you would be so kind?”

He smirks. Icy cold water is dumped on me forcing me to spill a line of profanity from my mouth.

“You bastard!” I screech.

“Ah, you caught me! My father hated me because mama loved the baker,” he winks at me. His arm arches back.

Crack!

I wince as the whip strikes me across my back. Forcing myself to stay quiet to not give him the pleasure of hearing me suffer. I bite my lips and grasps the chains to brace myself for another lashing.

“Ready to give in dear?”

I stay silent.

“No? Well then, let us continue,” he says as he laughs.

I will never truly understand how one man can be so demented.

Crack!

I arch my back and squeeze the chains as hard as I can, so I don’t make a sound.

Crack!

My teeth begin to bite into my lip making it bleed.

Crack! Crack!

He continues lashing me across my back and my legs, tearing my dress to it begins to fall from my back and legs. I feel the blood dripping down my legs, and I see small pools forming on the floor. The lashes are becoming numb now as my vision begins to gray. I become unconscious again.