Lunar Rising

A Certain Scent

Aura's POV:

A man came in with a bowl of something that smelt a bit sour. He was different from the one yesterday that carried my once-a-day meal. Just enough to keep me alive, but just not enough to recover my strength. I scoffed. 

The gruff lumberjack type man dropped the bowl without any care, letting some of its contents slosh out the side and onto the dirty floor as it skidded to me. 

I managed to pull myself up off the floor with whatever strength I had left to muster. My body felt broken like I'd been torn in half when my bond was ripped away from Luka. The absence of him was deafening.  What kind of food was even laying in front of me? Gruel? I don't know, but I was so hungry I didn't think I'd have the luxury of being that picky. 

No spoons or silverware to speak of were given to me with this slop. They expected me to eat with my hands or from the bowl like an uncultured wild animal. I growled in a hushed tone. As much as I wanted to scream and swear and threaten to maim these monsters, I wasn't strong enough to defend myself from any extra attention towards me.

I sniffed the slop. I wanted to turn my nose to this shit, but my stomach was so empty that it made my ribcage feel like it was going to collapse in on itself. 

I dipped my fingers into the porridge, scooping it into my mouth. I spit it out almost instantly though. It wasn't just the smell that was sour. The rancid taste enveloped my mouth quicker than I could remove the foul substance. I set the bowl back down, staring at it mocking me as my stomach growled ferociously. 

I didn't even realize that I'd started to cry till the warm tears started to drip from my chin to the floor where they dotted around the bowl. A sob shook my body, and I wrapped my arms around myself in a hug.   

The more I staired at that fucking bowl, the angrier I became as I wallowed there in self-pity. I slapped the bowl away and it skidded and skipped breaking into ceramic chunks that were covered in the nasty goop around it. 

I staired at the broken pieces with wonder, letting my mind tick with inspiration. I could use that!

Before I could make a move to grab the pieces, my stomach knotted in painful sharp stabs. The nausea rolled up my throat and my mouth went hot and tangy. The smell of the gruel was so overwhelming now, that I was forced into leaning over and slapping my palms against the ground out in front of me. The vomit refused to stay down, and it spewed out fast and ferociously. 

I couldn't believe I even had that much content in my stomach with how little I've been allotted to eat by my captors. 

Footsteps approached the cellar door, snapping me out of my daze. I scooted back as far as I could into the corner, feebly attempting to conceal myself.  The door opened and the light from the hall instantly made my squeeze my eyes shut. They weren't used to the light anymore and it hurt to look directly at the doorway. 

Once my eyes adjusted, it didn't take me long to realize that Casimir was standing above me with a look of disgust on his face. 

"You look pitiful." He sneered, eyeballing my current state. 

"Heh, yeah well, that tends to happen to people who are kidnapped and starved asshole." I croaked out at him, barely able to even hold my chin up in defiance. I wasn't confident that I sounded tough or resilient to him, because my throat was dry, and my voice was gravelly and cracked mid-sentence. 

Casimir knelt down, grabbing my chin and pushed my head to the side to examine his work he'd placed on my neck. His grin quickly diminished when he studied me.