Wax Abyss

[ Yorrick ] Torchlight Goonight

Yorrick stumbled out of the cart, his hands still bound behind his back. The rope was thick and coarse, and left him with red marks and forming bruises. He grunted unhappily. "At lease be a little nicer," He murmured at the guard's backs. He was lead into the jail house, the quickly sobered up man behind him. The man was cursing and spitting wildly at the wardens' backs, of whom payed the man no mind.

The inside of the jailhouse was dim. The area was made of stone, a few wooden tables with mismatched chairs on the left. There was a door labeled "Filing room" on the far wall, to the left as well. On the right side of the room appeared to be a waiting area. There were chairs and couches, and two coffee tables. On one of the tables was placed a plate of cookies. They looked delicious, and made Yorrick's mouth water. He was pushed towards a downward leading stairwell in the middle of the room, and he heaved a displeased sigh.

Down the stone steps, metallic boots and wooden heels clicked on stone alike. The depths of this short tunnel were lit by torchlight, casting an orange-yellow shadow on the small group. Once the stairs became a landing, one of the chaperones grabbed a torch off the wall and led Yorrick and the man to their respective cells. The cells were minimal, and demanded no immediate care, if any at all. There was a double decker bed, made from metal, with hard mattresses and a single pillow and blanket. The cell came equipped with one sink, one toilet, and a broken mirror. Yorrick and the man were pushed into the cell, and locked up. 

"Now don't fight, or you'll be put in solitary." Said the first guard.
"I'm sure you'd rather have anything than that." Said the second guard.

One of them spit at Yorrick's feet, and they both laughed. The turned on their heels, disappearing with the torch upstairs. The darkness that enveloped them was suffocating. The light from the stairwell barely reached their cell, but was just bright enough to make out vague shapes.

"What is your name, tiny man?" He said, looking to the ambiguously human shaped creature. He fell quiet, advancing to the bed and nearly tripping on it. "Edward," He said. "But what do you care?"

Yorrick scoffed. "I am Yorrick, Yorrick Farstein." He said, sitting down on the ground. His eyes remained on the flickering light of the torch. He thought of how, if that man- Edward- had only headed his wife's pleas, he'd never have gotten into this situation. He cursed the human under his breath, cracking his knuckles in anguish.

Hours had passed, and not a single word was exchanged between Edward and Yorrick. Perhaps Edward had been intimated by the angry huffs, grunts, and vibes the half-dwarf was giving off. Yorrick had later realized the sound of Edward's breathing had become smooth and even. He looked over his shoulder, noticing that the human had fallen asleep in the top bunk. 

Yorrick didn't think he could sleep. Not just yet, anyway. He closed his eyes, pictured his room back home... Nothing happened. Yorrick stared down the hall, at the end of the stairwell, watching the flickering torch slowly burn out.