Beheading Beatrice

Chapter three

The only person that Clementine could blame, was herself. Vedalia knew that it was her sister's fault for immaturely putting her life at risk for a boy. Clementine should not have even met this Finnley in the first place. Her idiocy was shocking to Vedalia because she knew her sister was so much more intelligent than this disrespectful crime showed her to be. There was nothing special about this ginger freak that writhed in his restraints, veins in his biceps and neck throbbing, his teeth grit together with the obvious effort and energy he was stealing from himself. "There is no use in struggling Finnley, no matter how hard you try, you will still pay for your idiocy. You will pay the full price to the extent of my laws, especially for brainwashing my sister into sneaking over to see you.." Vedalia murmured calmly, hands clasped behind her back patiently as the muscle-bound boy flared his nostrils like a bull. The ginger male did not answer her, his emerald green eyes hard as concrete. The way that he looked at Vedalia was hateful, seething with anger and an obvious temper. The black haired woman leaned forward, her lips pressed against Finnley's left ear, almost kissing it as she hissed, sounding like a venomous snake instead of a human being. "You are nothing, nothing but trouble to Clementine. The only thing you ever did for her was getting her disobedient ass thrown in jail...this is your fault Finnley, your fault. And now, now my sister has to die at your hands. Your hands." she whispered, straightening as she watched the boy quiver, his already pale face white as snow. She chuckled, cackling like a witch as his green eyes moistened, his parted, chapped lips trembling. He swallowed thickly, and slowly dragged his heavy, vengeful gaze to look into the dictator's eyes. 

He spoke up, his voice dry yet damp with emotion as he snarled, his brows furrowing and gaze scorching Vedalia like lightning. "Burn. in. hell." he growled, his fists balled. 

Vedalia stopped her laughter, her folded hands flexing as she looked down at the dangerously temperamental male. "Oh ho..sweet heart, don't you understand? I am not the one in hell, you are." she snarled, grabbing his face with a pinch of her bony fingers, scratching at his left cheek with her black nails, causing him to flinch, the stinging of his cheek reminding him of the burning of a warm fire at home. The place he desperately wished he was. Vedalia pulled back, her nails taking a piece of skin with her. She flicked it onto the floor in disgust and stomped a heeled foot onto the freckled bloody piece. "Speak to me like that again, and it will not be your skin that is on the floor." she threatened, her hips swaying as she whipped around, slamming the heavy dungeon door behind her, the rusted steel groaning as it locked together, keeping its bleeding prisoner within its walls. Finnley swore to himself beneath his breath, his struggle dying down. Surely he was not relaxed, he was weak. Exhausted. But he knew he needed to find Clementine in the prison before he was the only one breathing. 

Clementine's flashback was finally over, her cheeks damped, her body trembling as an oafish voice called out to her, bittersweet in tone as the owner of the voice brushed her thigh with wrinkly fingers, the flesh cold and hard like marble. The honey haired woman jumped, swatting away at the hand in disgust. "Do not touch me!" she commanded, backing away from the elderly man's raspy giggle. 

"Sharp one aren't ya? Nobody can boss anyone around down here, except for the queen and her guards."  the man mysteriously retorted with a twinkle in his hazel eyes, his hooded features shadowed over by a hood, causing his blackened skin to appear as though he was a creature from hell itself. 

Clementines breath caught in her throat. He was right and she knew it. "W..who are you?" she whispered, curious and scared. Obviously, this man had been in here for quite some time, though it seemed he was also a scared little boy, in the skin of an adult. 

"Whoever you want me to be baby.~" he purred, his deep voice dangerously low, though his flirtatious tone caused a shiver to run down Clementines back. She felt sick to her stomach. 

"What do you want?" Clementine inquired, slowly spreading out her cramping legs, though she kept her distance from the man, not wanting to be violated by an elderly man with who knows what as a disease. 

"Nothing more than to get my ass out of here." he rasped, hacking into his hand. When he pulled away from the dirtied flesh, speckles of red glittered like ruby gems. Blood.   

"That's impossible, you'll be in here for the rest of your life." came a bitter, hopeless remark, his tone like salt, the gravelly sound like metal grinding against metal in a factory. The old man flinched, knowing he was correct. 

Clementine looked around the cell she was in, her eye-catching on a skittering mouse that squeaked, it's high pitched cries loud, almost too loud, as if the mouse was carrying a speaker within its tiny throat. The green-eyed woman picked up her foot slowly, the mouses incessant screaming causing her to grow annoyed. "SHUT UP!" she howled, her heel slamming against the mouse's spine, cracking it with a bone-chilling squeal from the white creature, it's red eyes bursting open, splattering tiny fireworks of blood on the disgusting floor. She was panting, her heel clean as she curled up, leaning against the wall with a pounding headache. She was already turning into what she feared most. First, it would be animals, then...then it would be people. Clementine wretched, the acid taste in her throat burning as she threw up onto the floor, expelling every last thing she ate, emptying her stomach. The smell caused her to cover her nose, breathing only through her mouth as she closed her nostrils. The old man paid no attention, and continued on with his ramblings of freedom and escape, his hunched back and swaying arms making him look like an absolute madman. Maybe that's exactly what this hazel-eyed prisoner was. Crazy, insane. Clementine did not doubt it. Maybe she'd end up just like him, raving like a loon about smelling the fresh air again, and being able to feel the sun kiss her skin. Her heart tightened as she thought of freedom, something she thought she would never miss until now. But the only thing that she missed more than anything, was Finn. It was her fault that her ginger headed friend was in trouble. Most likely, he was dead by now. Vedalia had no reason to keep Finnley alive, other than for torture. And torture by her older sister, Clementine knew, was worse than death. She felt disgusting for wishing this upon Finnley, but when she looked up at the grimy ceiling, all that came to her mind, was the hope that he was in fact dead. At least his suffering would be ended, at least he would not be manipulated and physiologically broken to the point of no return. Sanity was not an option for the men or the women that were tortured for breaking one or more of Vedalia's twisted, strict rules. When Clementine saw Vedalia's victims after being within her grasp, she knew they would never be the same again. They left with haunted eyes, like the spirit of the person of who they used to be was trapped within them, kept captive just like they were. Clementine would never be able to live with herself if Finnley ever became like that. 

Honestly, she wished for death to come upon Finnley, at least he would not have to live his life, dead though still walking, like a zombie freshly kidnapped from the grave.