The Queen of Hell

Chapter 16

*

I'd been curled up in the same position for days now. I needed to move. Slowly, like an old man getting up off a chair, I uncurled my head and arms, moving my legs slightly. My muscles were screaming, places stretching that I didn't know could stretch.

Then I straightened my legs so they were flat on the floor. Swivelling at the pace of a snail, I pressed my back against the wall. Everything was aching with a deep intensity.

I laid my head on the wall, trying to gain the will to lift myself up. I could see a tray of sludgy food by the door and knew I had to get to it. I needed some sustenance. But that was over the other side of the room and I could barely stand, let alone walk. Even crawling would've been a miracle.

It took painstakingly long, but I groaned through it and got to the food. I was pretty sure it was old but I didn't care. Getting to it and eating proved to myself that I wasn't entirely useless.

As if someone had heard my positive thoughts, the door gave its routine clunk and I sat back down, resigning myself to my fate.

***

They chose to beat my already broken body. It was as if my ability to stand insulted them or meant they made a mistake and they felt obliged to right their wrongs.

Once they had left I knew I would be black and blue in a day. It felt like they'd kicked and punched every possible surface they could.

***

I thought they were done for the time being but no. They really didn't like me moving because the speakers blared again.

I thought after being subjected to this torture a few times it would have less effect. But the screaming cut as deep as ever, tearing into my heart and clawing at my soul.

I really wished I didn't have empathy because it would hurt so much less. I thought that after years at the guild and taking thousands of lives, I'd be less empathetic than most but the screaming hurt like something else.

***

After some time the speakers stopped blaring the screams. I uncurled from the ball I was in, blinking in shock. Then they started again, in a foul play against me. Only one thought resonated within me; I have to get out now, or I'll die here.

***

The screaming had been played 10 separate times, in addition to other methods or alone but I haven't gotten any more resistant. If anything the pained shrieks were cutting deeper. It was as if each playing was peeling a layer from me. They reverberated around the room and resonated deep within me, shredding me up from the inside.

They were slowly breaking my will to live, but I didn't have the energy to think of something I could use to end my suffering.

I was defenceless against the cry's ongoing attack. I curled up in a corner of my room and cried for the poor souls who were screaming. At some point I started screaming too, not being able to take the constant strain and mental anguish. My shrieks of agony mixed in with those coming from the speakers.

I clawed at my ears trying to get the horrible noise to just stop.

But they were unrelenting and kept assaulting my already fragile sanity. I chose cowardice and knocked myself out again. I'm sorry Joseph, I failed you.

***

I came to with a dull throb in my ears rather than the piercing, shattering feeling. I sat up and winced at my still-sore body.

Shame washed over me. It was the first time since the screaming torture started that I actually had some time to think and process. And all I was processing was cowardice and weakness.

The one thing I had been trained for since I was young was to withstand pain and survive torture. I'd let my guild down, shamed Joseph all because I wasn't strong enough.

I was starting to believe him. I broke down into tears thinking about how all those years ago he'd been right.

"You're pathetic" a voice said, coming from my 'bed'. My puffy, swollen eyes made it hard to see and I had to blink through tears but I saw that Frank was sitting there watching me.

I didn't even have a sarcastic quip to respond with. Because it was true and he was right. I was pathetic. I was weak. I was useless.

I was broken.

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A/N
I have no words for what I did. As much as I hate it, it had to be done

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