Downfall

Chapter 3

The smell of vomit still filled her nostrils, its stench strong in the tiny washing room where another slave girl had brought her.

She had stood there, in silence, massaging her back and holding her hair. Funny enough, it was the second time in a few hours that a demon was getting a hold of her head, however, this pink skinned woman was way more gentle than the previous blue one, in a gesture of help more than violence.

"Shhh. Breathe." Her voice was soft, sweet, a nice palliative in such a state.

She retched again, the pull from her stomach impossible to stop, its turning like a carousel in her belly, causing pain and tears down her face, while the colorless substance she was throwing out of her mouth pooled in a bowl the girl had placed on the floor.

At least its smell had covered the one of blood she thought she could never forget.

It was horrible, way worse than all those time she had gotten wasted and threw up so much she swore never to drink again. Of course, she never learned her lesson. But this time it was so much worse. Tears were running down her nose, in a small waterfall of pain and sadness.

Her thoughts where a mess, a thunderstorm of emotions she couldn't place, or maybe didn't want to. Disgust, horror, fear of what she had seen were the strongest, together with pain and sorrow for what she was feeling, for the horrible sensation in her guts, in her mouth. But another sadness creeped in as well, the need of something familiar, of home, of that place she had no idea how to go back to, the want of something that felt safe, someone who could help her.

Another stroke on her back tried to calm her, the small hands of the girl so soft against the fabric of her cream t-shirt, now drenched in the blood from the Feast that inevitably ended up on her, plus sweat and dirt. Probably vomit too.

Yes, she had to bathe, like the slave had suggested.

Fuck.

Another tear dripped in the bowl, moving slightly the horrible liquid, sending another shiver to her bowel.

She tried to breathe, slowly, in and out, focusing on those gentle strokes.

"I'm sorry." She managed to say, her voice hanging by a thread.

"It's ok. I know it can be hard the first times." She kept massaging her. "The Feast is not for everyone."

It's horrible.

But that was not the only reason she was feeling sick. All the fear and anxiety of the past 24 hours were finally coming to rest, and this was her body's reaction to the accumulated stress.

"You'll be fine." The girl tried to say, as another surge of puke came out of her, draining her body of anything she had left. "You'll be ok."

I hope she's right.

Ase fell on the side, hitting her hip on the stony floor, exhausted and tired, tears still rolling down her cheeks for the fatigue.

The girl adjusted her hair, drying her face with a clean cloth.

"See? It's already over." She smiled, or at least Ase thought she did from her tone.

Her image was blurry behind her watery eyes, still too wet to discern details bigger than shapes.

"Why are you helping me?" Her voice but a whisper, hoarse from the sore throat.

"My name is Oneth. Nice to meet you." Said the gentle voice of the pink skinned demon in front of her. "I've been told to take care of you and teach you how we work, so you can serve the King well."