𝘚𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘴, 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘓𝘪𝘦𝘴

The Torture (part 1)

I do not know how long we have been down here. I am guessing four days. It is the same routine: bread, water, sleep, shiver, bread, water, shiver, sleep, shiver, bread, shiver...

The familiar grating noise of metal against metal brings me back from my thoughts. It seems too early to get our evening bread...

I can hear two, three? No, four people descending the steps. Two have stopped now. At Wymonds cell. Two keep moving. Step, step, step, step... they stop. There is a key sliding into my lock. The the barred door swings forward with a shrieking noise that rings in the air around me.

I hear Wymond call my name but he is abruptly stopped by the sounds of something hard hitting flesh. He cry's out and I squeeze my eyes shut, even though I cannot see him, but I feel it.

Hands grab my upper arms and I am hauled to my feet. Chains are clipped into place around my wrists and I am forced to move forward. I can still hear the moans coming from Wymond in front of me. What did they hit him with?

My feet hit the steps leading to the light above. I can see more now - dark outlines of undistinguishable objects. As I move higher, these shapes turn to people. A hunched figure between two others.

I narrow my eyes to the light and allow them to adjust. Not within touching distance but not too far away, I see Wymond, kneeling as I am. My breath catches in my throat as I see him clearer: a torn shirt, stained with blood; cracked lips smeared with more red and running down his chin; blackened eyes from lack of sleep, standing out from the paleness of the rest of his face. But it is his eyes that takes me aback so much. I have never seen someone with so much despair reflected in their eyes. The light has been diminished. They show nothing but hopelessness. Woebegone.

I drag my eyes away from him and focus on my surroundings. As I take it in, I realize what is about to happen. As my eyes skim over the courtyard, I see there is no escape. Men stand guard around the walls. Wooden doors that lead to the outside are closed. This was the courtyard I was carried though but then, I did not take in everything.

From behind me, I hear one of the doors open. I dare to look back and when I do, I see what I expect. Father. The King. The Overseer. Sometimes the Torturer himself. My eyes follow him as he moves between Wymond and I and straight to a man who seems like the Head Torturer. This man is dressed all in back; head to toe. The only skin I see is his face. He wears gloves. A cape type overcoat. Black trousers. At his side, he rests one of his hands on a long knife.

After they have spoken, he calls the other Torturers, similarly dressed, to gather around him. They speak in low voices and point to equipment and their eyes flick to their victims.

After some time, they organize themselves around us again. I begin to feel panic rise up me, starting from the pit of my stomach and traveling up into my mouth where I almost bring up that mornings bread. I try to calm myself. I can't look around me. If I look at Wymond, once he could soothe me but now, I feel worse. I can't look. I can't. I can't do this...

I am bought back from my trepidation when I am dragged to my feet, pushed to the side and turned to face my husband. Still he kneels, head hung low. I feel my stomach twist and my eyes sting with tears. I will not let them fall though. I cannot let them win.

Before I realize what is happening, one of the men in black has picked something up and he brings it down on Wymonds back. He howls out. My breathing has sped up. I try to take a closer look at the weapon. I do not need to strain my eyes to see that it is a long round plank of wood fitted with spikes at the end. The man brings it back into the air and I watch helplessly as it is bought onto his back again. Wymond roars. I shout out, straining against my chains. I long to be with him.

Father has stepped forward and as the weapon is bought down again, he speaks. "He deserves this. You deserve to watch. I will not stop."

I try to rush forward but I am still held by strong chains.

"You bastard." I shout. "You fu-"

"Silence." Father snaps, holding up a hand. He continues in an sinister even tone. "This is far better than just killing you both. This way you can see what I am capable of."

I just stand in shock. Hardly breathing. My heart racing. Another scream from Wymond. And another. Another. I am shaking now. Tears threaten to fall. I won't let them. I can't let them.