Leonora Bernardi locked in the dark. Hurt for most of her life, scared of her own shadow. Not knowing what the outside world is like, she's the epitome of innocence. One look at her and it's like her aura could light up the room.
Nikolai Volkov fut...
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Gesticulate: - Use gestures, especially dramatic ones, instead of speaking or to emphasize one's words.
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Leonora POV
I was lying against the wall, my head slumped to one side since I was too weak to lift it. My arms dangle against the wall, the shackles rubbing rough on my wrists. He didn't go easy on me today. It was perhaps the worst beating I'd had in a long time. I observed the typical ugly colours forming on every patch of skin I could see, but this time they were darker and certainly more painful, as I take in ragged painful breaths. My ribs screaming in agony.
I'm not sure how long I've been left alone in the dark. Or how long I've been out. I awoke with the greatest pain in my skull, having to hobble around slowly with my muscles and bones screaming in agony. The metal of the cuffs had driven so deeply into my wrists that the dark liquid had started to flow down my arm. The liquid now dry and crusty making me feel disgusting, as small sections start to flake off my skin.
I'm exhausted. I've never been so tired in my life. Goosebumps erupt on my skin as a sliver of wind blows through the small crack in the wall, chilling me to the bone. I try not to shiver as it creates additional agony in my body, but the universe must be laughing at me because another blast of wind slips through the small crack, causing the thick layers of dust to move around the room. I gasp in pain as my teeth clatter together as I gently lift my legs to my chest.
The thin material of my plain flowy dress I'm wearing is scraping against the scratches and dark colours on my flesh, which are smeared with dirt, mud, and the familiar dark liquid from my injuries. This piece of clothing was so clean that you could probably see me in the darkest of places and now. You could probably make me out in the corner of the room. The only indication that I'm here being the pallor of my skin, which hasn't had any sunshine since I've been down here.
I attempt to move out of the uncomfortable position I'm in, sitting against the wall, but I can't. It's as if my body knows it has reached it's breaking point. I can't do this anymore. Liquid escapes my eye once more today. I don't know why this liquid escapes my eye, I just know it happens every time I hurt. I don't bother to wipe it away, my body in to much pain to do so. But this is how I know I'm still alive. I'm still here. I suppose the agony keeps me sane. As much as I dislike experiencing it, it keeps me grounded in the now. In this room. This prison.
A loud bang in the distance causes me to startle slightly, hissing in pain as I lean against the wall. The hard material digging into the spine of my skinny frame. Fresh dark liquid starts to escape from my wrists once more as I feel it drip down my arm, the sound of small drops landing on the floor below me in a steady rhythm.
As I hear more crashes and shouting from above, I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart as I cover my ears with my hands. Crying out from the pain. This has happened previously, but never to this extent. I'd periodically hear a huge crash from above, generally just before he started shouting. Through the thick material of the room above me, his voice was muffled but still audible. This time, though, there were continual loud bangs and shouting from what sounded like numerous men above me. As the hammering and shouting continue, dust falls from the ceiling coating my skin lightly. A cough escaping my chest as I breathe in an air full of dust.
