Voices of Humanity

Chapter Forty Six

My scratches on the wall indelibly marked the truth as day three came and went. Magnus's protection was ended and he had not returned. As prepared as I'd been for this reality I couldn't help the mix of disappointment and fear that filled me the morning I etched the line to indicate my fourth day behind bars.

    The cell I occupied was frigid, but aside from a grimy threadbare blanket, I had nothing to warm myself. The clothing I wore was filthy now and I hadn't bathed since Magnus and I refreshed ourselves in a small stream we'd found in the woods. The odor of my own body was noxious as was the smell of the food they offered twice a day, but after a week, I realized I barely noticed anymore, gradually growing accustomed to the ambient stench.

    Though I continued to force myself to eat the rations my captor's offered, they didn't offer much. My stomach was in a constant state of nausia and hunger in equal measure and I could feel myself losing a bit more strength every day. Of course I knew it was not just the lack of food that wore down my body.

    Though the first week of my captivity passed without any contact with my captors aside from food delivary, the screams and crying I heard in the near distance made it clear that others were not so lucky. The background of torture surrounding frayed my nerves, making me jump whenever I heard the sound of steps approaching my cell, my body tensed in fear each time as I waited to see if my moment of reconning had finally come.

    To keep myself from succumbing to fatigue, malnutrition, and cold, I spent most of my time curled in a ball on the hard concrete floor, blanket wrapped around my body, trying to hold in as much heat as possible. The chains didn't help. With metal encasing my neck and ankels it was not only difficult to find comfort, but also to keep the chills at bay. Only sleep offered any relief, but it was often interrupted by the sound of particularly loud screams. I wondered if my captors timed their torture to ensure it was so. That none of their prisoners would ever find true rest.

    It was ten days after my initial incarceration that armed guards finally appeared at my cell door and ordered me on my feet. My frayed nerves and exhaustion were so intense I was almost grateful for the break in the monotonous, passive, torture that my life had become. I stood without compliant and followed my armed captors' orders, keeping my head down, my bound hands lowered. I had no intent of offering resistance.

    As they lead me down the mazelike halls of concrete, the sound of screams grew louder. Every old scar on my body tingled in warning. The time had come for me to answer to my crimes. I couldn't even deny my guilt. With nothing to do in my cell I had spent the majority of my waking hours obsessing over the deaths wieghing on me, both sibla and human. I deserved to face punishment for my actions. Now I would. Perhpas in answering my crimes in suffering, my soul would be cleansed and I could finally join my loved ones.

    "In here, human"

    The command was followed by a heavy hand pushing against my back and I stumbled through an open door.

    I tried to calm my racing heart as I regained my barring, taking in the bare space. Dark stains littered the walls and floor, an assortment of chains and hooks hung from the cieling. Looking to the center of the room I saw a drain, the circle around it tinted a brownish-red. This was a room of torture. Of slaughter. I fought the urge to retch.

    "Bring in the others"

    My panicking mind snapped back to attention, focusing on the large metal door as it opened wide with a cringe-worthy screech and two figures were forced through before it closed with a thud.

    Though the two prisoners had burlap sacks over their heads, it was clear they were human. Their small stature and the tanned skin of their hands and exposed legs revealing their species. I felt my breath held in anticipation, lungs screaming for air and heart thudding uncomfortably in my chest as I waited to see the identiy of my fellow prisoners. But nothing could have prepared me for the face the appread when they removed the bag from the first captive's head.