Wings (A Faerie's Tale)

The hailstones pelted against the metal bar window, chilling the cell far colder than before. I gathered the thin, tattered blanket woven from grass around me, though it provided little heat. The heap of straw that was my bed lay underneath me, keeping me elevated off the floor. All the floor and walls were covered with an ugly green slime that seemed to move on its own. I lay down on the straw in a ball, desperately wanted to escape to sleep, but my eyelids refused to go heavy. My body refused to drift. I screwed my eyes tight and lay on the bed, wanting the storm to pass, until I heard a plink. I slowly turned, and in the dim light of moon, there was a tiny hailstone on the floor. Reaching out with my fingers, I tried to touch it, but with a large clang, the chains binding me to the wall restrained me from picking up the little thing. I sighed and returned to my original position.

I rattled the shackles, and they wore the skin off my pale wrists and exposed the blood beneath. It poured onto my arm, staining it crimson. I felt the wind bite at the wounds and all my exposed skin, felt the cold cut deep down to my bones. The dripping noise of the dirty water from the roof to the floor, along with the squealing of the beady-eyed rats that ran underfoot reminded me more of my situation. Looking at my reflection in the slimy walls, I saw tortured eyes and matted hair. Since I had lain down, the blood had entangled in my hair and dried, making my appearance even more ferocious. Every now and then footsteps would thunder past my cell, like the march of gods. The only people I saw were soldiers throwing my kin in other cells.

At one point in the night, soldier marched past carrying a girl. She was no older than five, and her golden curls were stained with blood. Her eyes were terrified. She disappeared around a corner and I prayed no harm would come to her. Blood curdling screams filled the air as my kind was tortured. They screamed for mercy, but none was given. Their screams filled me with terror. I was so afraid, so very afraid that I would be next. Their guards were like demons to them, they punished mercilessly and with pleasure, the hurt they give to other beings is like a drug to them. When they draw blood it pushes them into a kind of frenzy, when they start they cannot stop, they must keep the red stream flowing. The scars from my encounter with them still covered my face and arms, reminders of the torture I suffered at their hands. They torture mercilessly, but they do not kill. They are forbidden to kill unless ordered, and they were not ordered to kill me. No, they were ordered to torture me until I spilled the location of the stronghold of the elves, but I did not. I would never betray my own kind. They had tortured me for nigh on 2 years until they finally decided the torture would bear no fruit, and they put me in this rancid cell, which I had been in for 3 and a half weeks, with only tiny chunks of stale bread and dirty undiluted river water  to consume. I heard a child’s whimper, and then the horrible sound of an axe crunching on bone. The whimper came no more. I knew then, that they had cold-heartedly killed an innocent child. Rage filled my body as I struggled against the chains that bound me, feeling them cut deeper into my skin. I would stop at nothing for them to have a small taste of the pain they inflicted on that girl.  Anger ran through my veins, boiling my blood. I twisted and turned but it was no use. The shackles were too strong. Maybe death would be a reprieve from this pain. I lay in the dirty cell, waiting for the sunrise.

When the sunrise came, the thunderclap of boots echoed through the stone hallway. Please pass me by, Please, I begged to myself, but they stopped at my cell, and the huge soldier unlocked the cell. I looked at him with malice in my expression, and converted all my thoughts into that one look. My eyes seemed to say You monster, you killed an innocent little girl who had her whole life ahead of her. His eyes turned downwards so he would no longer have to look at the anger in my eyes, so he could no longer feel guilty. But I saw no remorse in his eyes, so I began to scream at him.

“You cowardly monster! How could you? She was no more than a babe, yet you still killed her! I hope you burn in the fiery pits of hell” He walked over and unhooked the chain from the wall, ignoring my screams. The shackles still bound my hands. I tried to run, but I was weak from hunger and thirst. As we walked down the grimy hall, I refused to go anywhere near him. In the corner of my eye, I saw a small cell. Through the metal bars, I could see the little girl. Her head lay on the floor, some distance from her body. The stench of blood reeked in the air. Her eyes were glassy, the small piece of sunlight shining through the barred window reflecting off them. A look of terror was etched into her face, frozen in a silent scream. The crimson blood was dried on the floor of the cell. I was shocked at this sight. Fate was a cruel thing, as it had been for this girl. Even though I did not know her, I still prayed that she would be in heaven. I saw the hooded executioner as we walked back down the hall. I screamed some more at the guard as I was dragged up the stairs by the hooded demon.

I knew that night in the cell was to be my last. I was going to die.