The Human Xenocide

Chapter Forty-Three - The German Convention

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Life in darkness, that’s all it was now—nothing more, nothing less, just the darkness and the inevitable pain.  This man, the darkness—it never ended.  Time became meaningless and Lilly lost count of the days, weeks, months—for all she knew years.  Time didn’t move down here. It was always the same and the pain could come at any moment.  Sleep had become the sporadic moments between consciousness’s, nothing more. 

Hope had long been given away, and even now an end didn’t seem to be in sight.  She had no idea how many names the man called out, nor did she care—the suffering engulfed her, it became her, it tore her apart.  Soon the suffering was translated into a good feeling; she expected—wanted it—felt she deserved it. 

It was never going to end and she knew it.  Her body wasn’t able to heal itself entirely anymore.  So the pain the man inflicted slowly began to build on her body with scars, scabs, gashes, and burns.  It was disfiguring, now she looked the part of the monster she had become.  There was no longer an inch of space on her flesh that didn’t have some sort of disfigurement. 

She couldn’t move from the cell if she wanted to, she couldn’t escape if she tried.  And she damn sure wouldn’t be able to get another chance at a gun to defend her self—her body was done, weak, and useless.  But not like the man cared.  He still came in every day—well to her, every time she was awake—and mercilessly chiseled away at her body.  The names, there were just so many, so many she killed—it was her fault, she brought this upon herself, she killed all those people and at the time thought it was just a joke, it was fun.  Murder should never be fun, she could see that now.

“Get up.”  It was the dreaded voice she came to hate, the dreaded voice she came to love—it was him.  Lilly pulled her body into one of the corners and cringed.  She no longer looked at what tool of destruction he had for the day—anticipation only made it worse.    Cowering she held the arm with the Devils Touch in front of her.  Even when he knew she could no longer pull a stunt like she did when he first touched the tender flesh, he still respected the fact that at least that arm was out of bounds. 

The charred skin from the first and only time he burned that arm was long since gone but there was no flesh to replace it—instead there was a mixture of bone and whatever muscle was left right up to the elbow and the gray rot had finally reached to her shoulder and started down her back and chest ever so slightly.  Even if this man never actually killed her, her body was slowly rotting.  When the devil touched her he put a ticking curse on her body.  She had no clue how much further the rot had to go before it killed her—or if it would kill her—or if eventually over the years she’d turn into even more of a monster than she is now—one of animated bone and nothing more.

“There will be no lashings today.  Get up.”  She didn’t believe him, he liked to make her feel safe before he beat her, tore her up, or whatever other sick plan he had for the day.  Lilly pushed further into the corner and cringed as his arm came down over her.  His fingers wrapped around her hair, which was torn, dirtied, and had chunks missing.  The red highlights she once had were now long gone and thick knots that would be impossible to brush out filled her hair.

He caught one of those thick knots and pulled her up.  He easily got her body to its feet, Lilly having lost a lot of weight as well as her appetite being stuck in the darkness for such a vast time.  Even with her feet planted firmly on the ground they wouldn’t be able to support her on their own, the back ends of her knees were still slashed from a recent session and she hadn’t actually used her legs for weeks, months for all she knew.

Holding her hair firmly in his grip the man shoved four capsules into her face, unmarked white pills, “Take.”  She didn’t ask questions, she just lifted up her good hand and grabbed at the pills.  Her arm shook as she made contact with the pills and her fingers closed on the pile.  During transit from his hand to her mouth one of the pills dropped but she quickly shoved the other three into her mouth.  She cringed as she swallowed the bitter capsules, afraid that he’d hit her for dropping one.  But no violence came.