Played For A Fool

Pain

Pain

For some people it was a reason for fear, for others it was a drug. It could be a deterrent, or it could be a motivator. It was the center of everything; love and hate, trust and fear, joy and sadness. They all involved pain.

Pain is a teacher. It changes people, it shuts trust down and builds up walls so high that nobody will ever want to climb them. It makes people overthink and lose the ones who could actually help. It was the worst thing for anyone to bear.

Cinder knew pain like the back of her hand. It was a constant companion in her life, following her like a dark shadow of misery.

If pain were a rain cloud, then Cinder lived in Seattle. It blocked out all the joy that she could have felt. It caused her more issues than she could count, from the pain of losing her family to the many slaps across the face she got on a daily basis.

However much pain Cinder had felt before, she was a stranger to that of which she was feeling. Even when she had nearly burned to death, the pain was not comparable to the pounding that emanated through her entire being. At least with the fire the smoke had been her medicator, slowly putting her to sleep.

She never seemed to actually be awake, spending her time between hazy, one-eyed glimpses of Thorne and Scarlet, to nightmares of fires and wolves. Neither of them held reprieve from the pain but seemed to electrify the intensity of it all. She would sometimes call out or whimper, though that only seemed to frighten her friends and hurt her already red-raw throat.

Both Thorne and Scarlet stayed by her side the entire time. Time seemed nonexistent in the world of agony that she occupied. It could have been anywhere from a minute to a day since she had been abandoned in her cell and she would be none the wiser.

Though the dreams of her past were horrifying, Cinder was not ready to come back to reality. She was not prepared to see how much pain her friends were in. How much the Wolves had tortured them. Cinder wasn't equipped to look at the only people who cared for her and know that whatever harm came to them was her own fault.

With nightmares of charcoaled skin quickly fading, Cinder found herself in the dark cell she had been deposited in without recollection. She wasn't entirely sure how she had gotten there, but one moment she was being kicked by wolf mutants, and the next having her friends huddled around her.

All together, fire and smoke dissipated, and soft blue replaced it. Pain shot through her skull like knives, and Cinder moaned in agony. The moaning made her chest ache and Cinder felt positive that she had broken multiple ribs.

"Cinder," Thorne whispered, "Cinder, you're okay."

Cinder would have laughed, but she hardly had any air in her lungs. She was far from okay, and they all knew it. Nothing about the entire situation was okay.

Thorne seemed to see the expression on her face, and his shoulders slumped visibly through Cinder's hazy red vision. "Nevermind, you're not okay. None of this is okay, but it's also not your fault."

Before Cinder could protest, or Thorne could argue more, or even before Scarlet added her opinion, the doors opened yet again.

"No," Thorne groaned, while Scarlet flinched. Cinder probably would have done both, but she could hardly breathe.

Wolf Mutants were terrifying, but even more so when you had no means to defend yourself. Their large muscles that bulged from seemingly everywhere on their bodies; teeth and claws sharp enough so slice human flesh easily; elongated faces that resembled the creatures that they had been modeled after.

They were quite a sight, though Cinder would rather be blind. Thorne cursed heavily under his breath as four of the monsters walked into the cell, and Scarlet snarled with agitation. Cinder tried to sit up, not caring about the pain, but Thorne held her down.