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Screams in the Night: Quiz 207


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#1 Guest_Serena_*

Posted 12 August 2009 - 03:24 AM

Screams in the Night

It was windy and wet. Corris was soaked through, her small form shivering in the rain. Damn them. Damn them all to all the hells and back. . . . It was hard to keep her head clear. Despite the driving rain, it was part sweat that fell into her eyes from her matted braids. It was still cold.

She glanced around her, taking stock of the newly formed camp. There was a tree acting as a partial overhang, she had already gotten some water to help her thirst.

She couldn't see much else; a stack of supplies and crates blocked her view of most of the camp. I need to know everything if I'm going to bust us out of here. But . . There was a growing sense of dread in the pit of her stomach, a feeling that was very different from the hunger. But those bastards took Aerie. She wasn't even strong enough to find back. What are they – no I don't want to know. Corris had taken a liking to the young Avariel. When she had gotten sick in this hells-nest of a slaver's camp, Corris had tried to care for her. Not that there was a lot that could be done. Falling ill was a death-sentence.

The lightning boomed above her head.

Corris sat in the mud, shivering; her eyes bright. She had woken that evening and found Aerie gone. It didn't take too much imagination to think about what would happen next. Pushing herself up onto shaking knees, she fumbled for one of her lockpicks. Her fingers were sluggish.

You'd think they'd take better care of their 'pets.' Her lips turned down into a scowl as she fiddled for the thirty-seventh time with the lock of her cage. Her hands were shaking. They'd been shaking for two days, and the rain wasn't helping any.

One of the guards walked by and smirked at her. He knew she was trying to pick the lock, and didn't care. She knew the lock was enchanted, something her skills didn't have a hope in hell of getting past. That didn't stop her from trying. Even in this weather, even when she felt like shit.

Even the rising storm didn't block the first set of screams. The lockpicks clattered to the ground as she whirled. Wha -- Oh, Gods, no. . . It was hard to place the screams amidst the thunder, but she knew the voice far too well. She had heard those screams before, but not like this. It was abject pain, something that had not happened here before. What are they doing to her? Her keen eyes could see the flicker of fire over the top of the bundle of supplies.

“Aerie?!” Her voice was lost in the thunder and rain. “Aerie!?” The patrol guard looked back briefly, laughed, and approached. His lanky black hair hung in his face, slick with rain.

“Missing your winged friend?” He leered at her. She had gotten used to that, and simply glared up at him.

“Fuck off.” It wasn't the vicious snarl she wanted, it was weak, quiet. The screams echoed again, and Corris tensed, wanting to stick her fingers in her ears and simply block it all out. The thunder and screams, all of it could just simply go away. Her legs were shaking.

He just chuckled, showing a set of rotten teeth. “I could, you know. I'd take the Avariel, she's prettier then you – that is, if she lives the night.” He advanced on her, stepping right to where the bars of her cell were inset into the ground. “Though, you're not doing much better, are you, little one?” Corris backed away; but she had nowhere to go.

“Oh, I hope you got a good look,” he said absently, his eyes flicking across her pale face as he opened the catch to her cell.

“What do you mean?” Damn that tremble. I'm not afraid of this bastard. . . Her voice was shaking with exhaustion, fear and fever. The thunder, the screams seemed farther away now.

“Well, Avariel wings make good spell components.” That's my friend you're talking about, you bastard!

She snarled and leapt at him; only to be be backhanded back into the mud. Pushing herself up, she backed away as he advanced. The thunder had faded to a pounding in her own head. Her hands were covered in mud. She could taste the blood on her lip.

He nodded approvingly. “It's nice to see that you haven't lost all your spirit, little one. You might even just survive, if the fever doesn't get you first.”

She dug her hands into the mud in frustration, before spitting into his face.

He scowled, wiping it off with his gloved hand. “And here I was going to see if your little friend was still alive. They don't want to kill her, you know. She's worth quite a bit, at least for her face. She's still decently pretty.” He stepped out, locking the door behind him. “But now. .. well, now we're just going to have to see, aren't we?” He walked off with a smirk; leaving Corris behind in the mud.

Damn them. Damn them all. She didn't have the energy to swear at his retreating back. Her tears were hot on her face.




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