Inked

Chapter 3: After the whispers

Chapter 3

For the first night in a long time, my nightmares subsided. Perhaps the panther at the end of my cot helped. I often found it easier to bring things that were black into reality than things that weren't. The cat slept peacefully at the end of my bed, making me feel safe from the torturous dreams that had tossed me and oppressed me for night after night since I arrived at Rockford. At 3 in the morning, my eyes opened and I registered indistinct shadows peeking in through the window. laying on the floor, I saw flat arms and legs, and barely contrasted faces staring benignly up at me. The panther stretched his paws, his claws glinting in the moonlight. Like a lithe shadow himself, the cat stood and trotted over to where my hand dangled from the bed. Nudging it with his head, he sat down beside me, tail flicking here and there. ik couln't understand why the panther wasn't trying to kill me like the Hyrcan (Iranian) tiger had so long ago, but I didn't waste the time trying to delve into the finer points of the evil demon inside me. Live and let live, and occasionally use was my motto when it came to the ink. Although when I used my power, it came back to use me in my sleep too. But while I used my power for peace, my power used me for evil. 

I sat up gently, shaking my head to clear my head. It did no good, I knew, to ruminate obsessively on these thoughts. For the longer I contemplated, the wider my mind opened for the shadows inside to intrude and twist me into oblivion. It was only a matter of time before my mind couldn't handle the demon in my chest, and I feared I would collapse into dementia, or worse yet, I'd let the power out, no longer having the strength to keep its terrors confined to sleep. I was brought back to existence when the panther nudged its head against my hand again, persistently, wanting attention. I scratched it idly behind the ears, curiously exploring the reasons why this panther seemed perfectly docile, when so many of my other creations, whether accidental or purposeful, had been so destructive. But I found I was contented with having company, and my mind lapsed into peaceful silence at last, at I admired the pale, flickering shadows angling through the window. Contented for the moment with the peaceful beauty of the moon, I rested my head against the stone wall behind me, my eyes slowly leaving me in darkness. 

***

The breakfast bell didn't wake me the next morning, the guards did. Two barged into my room just after I awoke, dragging me out of bed and binding me in manacles once again. Miraculously, they were too busy securing me to notice the furry black lump at the end of the bed. I spoke quietly, hoping my companion heard and understood. But when I spoke, the guards looked up in fear, and I slowly registered that my words were not English but some garbled, sharp tongue. Sounds I didn't even know a human voice could form issued from my lips, and as i whispered fervently the panther opened its green eyes and stared at me. I saw understanding there, and as I quietly told it to not move and to wait for me, it settled quietly and did as I bade it to. Amazed, I let my voice trail into nothingness, and the guards tightened my chains, casting me looks of awe mixed with mild terror. 

I was led out into the hall, the panther whimpering softly as I left, its eyes following my guards with a look that clearly said, harm her and I swear on my life I will rip you to shreds. I found I appreciated that, it made me feel quietly secure, and I followed the guards with a docile shuffle, not resisting in the least. Soon, I was shackled to my fellow patients and we were led downstairs. I noticed the Gertrude had not returned. The shackles hung empty where she should be. Frightened, a few of the girls stole glances at each other. The guards didn't notice this quiet communication. I noticed that the armed guards had clustered, probably deliberately, around me. Who knew news traveled so fast?

Breakfast was a quiet affair. I felt a prickling on the back of my neck a few times, and I registered a few of the other girls stealing fearful glances at our table. I hadn't realized just how frightening the ordeal with Gertrude had been. Being in solitary confinement, I don't hear the rumors that fly, the discussions that take place. But as the attacked guard hadn't returned to duty, I realized I had been stupid to disregard the incident. Clearly, Gertrude had dealt more damage than I originally registered. My bowl was carted away, and soon enough, I was marched back up the stone stairwell. Five flights later, we emerged into the ornate, vaulted Nottingham Ward. The varnished wood on the walls glinted as the sun filled the cathedral windows, making the ward look like a summer meadow, and not a prison. The metal doors locked behind us with an ominous thud, and the ten or so guards deposited us in our cells, marching us down the hall, a guard periodically breaking off with five girls, securing them each in their cells and locking them in. Soon enough it was my turn, and I was locked into my tiny cell again. I was pleased to see the Panther trotting towards me from a perch on the window sill. He snaked around my legs and I scratched him behind the ears. The company, I had to admit, was nice. 

I sat down on my rocking chair and looked out on the moor. The panther trutted about, restless. I waved my hand through the air, creating outlines of small birds, which flitted around my head and around the room. The panther's head jerked up, his eyes alight. He gamboled around the room, batting and snapping at the darting outlines. 

Hours later, the cat was sprawled over my lap as I sat on the window sill. Suddenly, footsteps sounded in the hall. The panther hopped off the sill and hid in a shadowy corner, behind the metal shelves that housed my meager assortment of prison-like jumpsuits. A clunk and a scrape, and my door was pulled open. Two heavily armed guards walked in. My eyes widened and I retreated. The guards roughly shackled my hands, and led me out of the room. The panther whimpered behind me, but I couldn't offer him reassurance of my return.

What had I done?

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For my first ever book, I'm very satisfied with 35 reads. Thank you all for showing interest! I would really like to know what you think, I'll take your comments to heart, so feel free to leave as many as you like!

Many thanks, 

Vivian