A year as a Narnian || 365 Narnia one shots (Part one)

76: A place that doesn't exist - Part two

March 17th - Prompt: Death

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It had been a week, and all Edmund wanted was to go home.

Over the past seven days, he'd been through hell and back, and he hadn't enjoyed a single second if it.

The ice bath was at 3 hours a day, the woman deciding to leave it at that time because of how badly Edmund was reacting to it. 

He'd been whipped every other day, ten lashes a time. He'd be chained up in multiple different ways, which had exhausted him beyond words.

He'd been slashed with knives, burned, slapped, kicked, punched. He'd been mocked, teased, made fun of, but perhaps the worst was the fact that he hadn't eaten a thing.

He was weak from hunger, He'd dropped weight, so much so his ribs were beginning to show, He'd only had a few drinks, so his thirst was almost unbearable,

He was continously cold, freezing, he was always shivering, always trying to seak some sort of warmth, any sort of warmth, but he never got any.

This led to him feeling unwell, throwing up absolutely nothing as his stomach was empty, leaving him dry heaving for minutes at a time.

As well as his broken wrist, between his two captors they'd given him a cracked rib or two, a broken leg, three broken fingers and a dislocated shoulder which had been painfully put back into place.

Right now he was currently laying on the floor, curled into a ball, shivering and shaking as he tried to ignore the throbbing from his ankles because of the shackles that were secured around them.

He had his eyes squeezed shut, murmuring under his breath for someone, anyone to come and rescue him, but he knew the chances of that happening were extremely slim.

But still, every day, he prayed to Aslan, hoping that just maybe he'd save him, or send help.

He didn't even bother moving when he heard the door open, and just stayed where he was, listening and waiting.

He didn't have to wait long, for a second later he was hit square on the back with a whip, making him cry out weakly.

There was no fear anymore of breaking, that had happened at least four days ago when he had screamed, and sobbed and begged. He had hated himself for it, but the pain had been too much, the weakness and the hunger too much, the cold had been too much, and he just couldn't keep it in any longer.

The first lash was followed by nine more, by the end of which Edmund was silently crying and shaking, shaking his head as he lay there, wishing for it all to just stop.

Not a word was said as the man left, and it felt like no time at all had passed before the door was opened again.

"You still alive then?" The woman muttered, and Edmund could almost guess that she'd rolled her eyes.

"Just - Just kill me." Edmund coughed out, voice choked and quiet as he opened his eyes. "Please."

"I am... Just slowly." The woman laughed. "But don't worry, I don't think you have much longer, death is just around the corner."