Warning: Kind of dark and angsty, with a bad attempt at WAFF at the end.
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Darkness. Cold, damp, foul-smelling darkness. It was all around her, enclosing her, suffocating her. Like the cage.
It was too small, far too small for someone of her size. She was forced to keep her knees drawn up under her chin, her arms tucked tightly around them. It had hurt at first, that cramped, folded-in position; her muscles had screamed in protest. The pain had stopped, eventually, replaced by a heavy, leaden numbness. She wouldn’t have been able to move her arms or legs, even had there been somewhere to move them to. It was all she could do to get her stiff neck cooperating long enough to turn her head.
There were noises, out there in the dark. Screams, sometimes; cries of pain, of terror, of mortal agony. She tried not to listen, but the sounds seemed to surround her, blocking out all other noises.
Worse, though, were the little sounds. Tiny slithering, scuffling noises, out there in the dark. Squeaks. Clicks. Slurps. Gulps. A vast army of somethings was out there, devouring everything in its path. She knew that, one day soon, the army would reach her, the tiny, many-legged monsters would pour into her little cage. They would be all over her, biting, stinging, injecting her with their hot venom that burned like fire. They would rend her skin, burrow under and make a meal of the soft flesh beneath. And she would scream, scream like the unknown victim out there in the dark, able to feel every torturous movement, but unable to prevent her inevitable demise. All she could do was wait.
He would come, sometimes. Him, with his mocking laugh, cold like the sound of icicles shattering. Him with his spells and his inane, teasing, one-sided conversation. He had come much more often, in the beginning. That was before the screaming had started.
His visits had decreased, over the past weeks, or months, or years—it was hard to tell how long she had been here; there was no way to mark the passing of the hours, only the long, unending night. He came only rarely now, but those occasions were always a cause for terror.
He would appear, with his glacial eyes and sub-arctic voice. Sometimes he spoke. Sometimes he was silent. Sometimes he only laughed.
She would cower back as far as her frozen body would allow, whimpering little animal noises of fear. He would laugh. He would torment her, raising his hands as though to begin, only to pause, and laugh some more as she cringed. Finally, eventually, he would grow tired of his game.
The vines were the worst. It was like some mad parody of one of Jaheira’s spells. They would sprout from the hard iron floor of her enclosure, defying all laws of nature. Like thick, slimy, sticky green ropes, they wrapped tightly around her, suffocating her, crushing the life from her motionless body. They smelled. It was the reek of the grave, the stench of death and decay, sweet and foul like refuse or rotting flowers. And they burned. Whatever sticky green poison was on them, they burned like fire, like acid, like the venom of the little crawling army in the darkness.
***
She woke suddenly, covered in a cold sweat and tangled in the sheets. For a moment, she couldn’t remember who she was, or where. She feared she was still in the dungeon, in her cage, covered in filth and blood and wrapped in His vines.
Slowly, her memories returned. Her rescue. The reunion with Jaheira and Minsc. The long hours spent dragging themselves through the vast underground complex, searching for a way back to the sun. The thief, Yoshimo, who had disappeared as they rested, and not returned, perhaps fallen victim to the little crawling monsters..…Imoen.
Jaheira was beside her, sitting on the bed, holding her and making noises of comfort. Her arms were warm, and she smelled good, despite being just as filthy as Rinara. In her embrace, Rinara felt safe, in a way that she hadn’t since Gorion had died. Like someone was looking out for her, and protecting her. Like she had a family again.
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Well...Uh...O.O;
That just sort of appeared in my brain as I was falling asleep last night, so this morning I got up and wrote it. Got a little more Hitchcockian than I intended with the "crawling things," but oh well. Hope you liked!
Blood and Shadows--Chapter Two
Started by
Guest_Yunami_Silverblade_*
, Mar 19 2004 03:35 PM
5 replies to this topic
#2
Guest_AlphaMonkey_*
Guest_AlphaMonkey_*
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Posted 20 March 2004 - 09:05 PM
She knew that, one day soon, the army would reach her, the tiny, many-legged monsters would pour into her little cage. They would be all over her, biting, stinging, injecting her with their hot venom that burned like fire. They would rend her skin, burrow under and make a meal of the soft flesh beneath. And she would scream, scream like the unknown victim out there in the dark, able to feel every torturous movement, but unable to prevent her inevitable demise.
Woo hoo!
That's some good description... mmmm... it's like... it's like that episode of X-files were Mulder's watching people get mangled by killer bees.
Him, with his mocking laugh, cold like the sound of icicles shattering. Him with his spells and his inane, teasing, one-sided conversation.
I like David Warner.
She would cower back as far as her frozen body would allow, whimpering little animal noises of fear. He would laugh. He would torment her, raising his hands as though to begin, only to pause, and laugh some more as she cringed.
That works... you set up the animal analogy in the first part of this paragraph, and then kinda continue it with the next few sentences. The whole cringing behavior is very much like an animal that's been beaten so often that it expects to get kicked or punched or whatever whenever its abuser adopts a certain posture (like raising his hands).
Got a little more Hitchcockian than I intended with the "crawling things," but oh well.
That's fine... though I almost would have preferred... oh... I don't know... birds... instead of bugs.
#3
Guest_Yunami_Silverblade_*
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Posted 21 March 2004 - 12:01 AM
Woo hoo!
That's some good description... mmmm... it's like... it's like that episode of X-files were Mulder's watching people get mangled by killer bees.
Never saw that one. I don't watch the X-Files all that much; prefer anime.
I like David Warner.
Lol.
That works... you set up the animal analogy in the first part of this paragraph, and then kinda continue it with the next few sentences. The whole cringing behavior is very much like an animal that's been beaten so often that it expects to get kicked or punched or whatever whenever its abuser adopts a certain posture (like raising his hands).
Thanks. That's kind of what I was going for; I think that, after being tortured the way CHARNAME presumably was, if it went on long enough, they'd start to revert back into animal mode, and kind of let instinct take over.
That's fine... though I almost would have preferred... oh... I don't know... birds... instead of bugs.
Lol. I never liked that movie. Actually, because of a prank Immy played on her when they were little, Rinara is absolutely terrified of a certain kind of bug, which will be demonstrated later.
I'm glad you liked it. I actually enjoyed writing it a lot more than I thought I would.
#4
Laufey
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Transcendant
Posted 21 March 2004 - 07:02 AM
Warning: Kind of dark and angsty, with a bad attempt at WAFF at the end.
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Darkness. Cold, damp, foul-smelling darkness. It was all around her, enclosing her, suffocating her. Like the cage.
It was too small, far too small for someone of her size. She was forced to keep her knees drawn up under her chin, her arms tucked tightly around them. It had hurt at first, that cramped, folded-in position; her muscles had screamed in protest. The pain had stopped, eventually, replaced by a heavy, leaden numbness. She wouldn’t have been able to move her arms or legs, even had there been somewhere to move them to. It was all she could do to get her stiff neck cooperating long enough to turn her head.
Nice way of beginning, in the middle of action, and good descriptive passage too that felt realistic.
There were noises, out there in the dark. Screams, sometimes; cries of pain, of terror, of mortal agony. She tried not to listen, but the sounds seemed to surround her, blocking out all other noises.
Worse, though, were the little sounds. Tiny slithering, scuffling noises, out there in the dark. Squeaks. Clicks. Slurps. Gulps. A vast army of somethings was out there, devouring everything in its path. She knew that, one day soon, the army would reach her, the tiny, many-legged monsters would pour into her little cage. They would be all over her, biting, stinging, injecting her with their hot venom that burned like fire. They would rend her skin, burrow under and make a meal of the soft flesh beneath. And she would scream, scream like the unknown victim out there in the dark, able to feel every torturous movement, but unable to prevent her inevitable demise. All she could do was wait.
Brrrrr...you managed to make this really scary. The feeling of helplessness is the worst, I think.
He would appear, with his glacial eyes and sub-arctic voice. Sometimes he spoke. Sometimes he was silent. Sometimes he only laughed.
Oh yes. The word I mostly associate with Irenicus is 'cold'.
She would cower back as far as her frozen body would allow, whimpering little animal noises of fear. He would laugh. He would torment her, raising his hands as though to begin, only to pause, and laugh some more as she cringed. Finally, eventually, he would grow tired of his game.
The vines were the worst. It was like some mad parody of one of Jaheira’s spells. They would sprout from the hard iron floor of her enclosure, defying all laws of nature. Like thick, slimy, sticky green ropes, they wrapped tightly around her, suffocating her, crushing the life from her motionless body. They smelled. It was the reek of the grave, the stench of death and decay, sweet and foul like refuse or rotting flowers. And they burned. Whatever sticky green poison was on them, they burned like fire, like acid, like the venom of the little crawling army in the darkness.
Nasty stuff! And good description again.
Slowly, her memories returned. Her rescue. The reunion with Jaheira and Minsc. The long hours spent dragging themselves through the vast underground complex, searching for a way back to the sun. The thief, Yoshimo, who had disappeared as they rested, and not returned, perhaps fallen victim to the little crawling monsters..…Imoen.
Ah, so Yoshimo disappeared? I wonder why.
Jaheira was beside her, sitting on the bed, holding her and making noises of comfort. Her arms were warm, and she smelled good, despite being just as filthy as Rinara. In her embrace, Rinara felt safe, in a way that she hadn’t since Gorion had died. Like someone was looking out for her, and protecting her. Like she had a family again.
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Awwww!
And it ends on a happy note...I like that.
Rogues do it from behind.
#5
Laufey
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Transcendant
Posted 21 March 2004 - 07:02 AM
Warning: Kind of dark and angsty, with a bad attempt at WAFF at the end.
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Darkness. Cold, damp, foul-smelling darkness. It was all around her, enclosing her, suffocating her. Like the cage.
It was too small, far too small for someone of her size. She was forced to keep her knees drawn up under her chin, her arms tucked tightly around them. It had hurt at first, that cramped, folded-in position; her muscles had screamed in protest. The pain had stopped, eventually, replaced by a heavy, leaden numbness. She wouldn’t have been able to move her arms or legs, even had there been somewhere to move them to. It was all she could do to get her stiff neck cooperating long enough to turn her head.
Nice way of beginning, in the middle of action, and good descriptive passage too that felt realistic.
There were noises, out there in the dark. Screams, sometimes; cries of pain, of terror, of mortal agony. She tried not to listen, but the sounds seemed to surround her, blocking out all other noises.
Worse, though, were the little sounds. Tiny slithering, scuffling noises, out there in the dark. Squeaks. Clicks. Slurps. Gulps. A vast army of somethings was out there, devouring everything in its path. She knew that, one day soon, the army would reach her, the tiny, many-legged monsters would pour into her little cage. They would be all over her, biting, stinging, injecting her with their hot venom that burned like fire. They would rend her skin, burrow under and make a meal of the soft flesh beneath. And she would scream, scream like the unknown victim out there in the dark, able to feel every torturous movement, but unable to prevent her inevitable demise. All she could do was wait.
Brrrrr...you managed to make this really scary. The feeling of helplessness is the worst, I think.
He would appear, with his glacial eyes and sub-arctic voice. Sometimes he spoke. Sometimes he was silent. Sometimes he only laughed.
Oh yes. The word I mostly associate with Irenicus is 'cold'.
She would cower back as far as her frozen body would allow, whimpering little animal noises of fear. He would laugh. He would torment her, raising his hands as though to begin, only to pause, and laugh some more as she cringed. Finally, eventually, he would grow tired of his game.
The vines were the worst. It was like some mad parody of one of Jaheira’s spells. They would sprout from the hard iron floor of her enclosure, defying all laws of nature. Like thick, slimy, sticky green ropes, they wrapped tightly around her, suffocating her, crushing the life from her motionless body. They smelled. It was the reek of the grave, the stench of death and decay, sweet and foul like refuse or rotting flowers. And they burned. Whatever sticky green poison was on them, they burned like fire, like acid, like the venom of the little crawling army in the darkness.
Nasty stuff! And good description again.
Slowly, her memories returned. Her rescue. The reunion with Jaheira and Minsc. The long hours spent dragging themselves through the vast underground complex, searching for a way back to the sun. The thief, Yoshimo, who had disappeared as they rested, and not returned, perhaps fallen victim to the little crawling monsters..…Imoen.
Ah, so Yoshimo disappeared? I wonder why.
Jaheira was beside her, sitting on the bed, holding her and making noises of comfort. Her arms were warm, and she smelled good, despite being just as filthy as Rinara. In her embrace, Rinara felt safe, in a way that she hadn’t since Gorion had died. Like someone was looking out for her, and protecting her. Like she had a family again.
--------------------------------------------------
Awwww!
And it ends on a happy note...I like that.
Rogues do it from behind.
#6
Guest_Yunami_Silverblade_*
Guest_Yunami_Silverblade_*
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Posted 21 March 2004 - 04:15 PM
Nice way of beginning, in the middle of action, and good descriptive passage too that felt realistic.
Thanks.
Brrrrr...you managed to make this really scary. The feeling of helplessness is the worst, I think.
I'm a claustrophobic, so I know how scary it is not to be able to move. Actually, I was also thinking of those beetles from "The Mummy."
Oh yes. The word I mostly associate with Irenicus is 'cold'.
Me too. Something about his voice, I think.
Nasty stuff! And good description again.
Thanks. I remembered that one of Irenicus' spell effects during his "experiments" was the same one used for the Entangle spell.
Ah, so Yoshimo disappeared? I wonder why.
No idea.
Awwww!
Jaheira is like a big sister to Rinara. I've always thought, if I had to have a BG character there after a nightmare, I'd want it to be Jae. (Yes, I know that's a weird thought.)
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