Golden Ink

Games

|| Content Warning|| This section contains mentions of blood

The loud sounds of a door pull me from my memory. Aislinge is back, holding a stack of clothes. "Get changed, you need to go back to your cell." He throws the clothes at my feet.

These numbers are the same as the ones on my old outfit. I wait for him to leave but he doesn't. "Hurry up, we don't have all day."

I stare into his cold eyes, taking satisfaction in the fact that his left cheek is still covered in a patch and his lip is split. "Then leave."

He smiles. "Nope."

I show him just what's on my mind, and conveniently I only need one finger to do so. I strip down and quickly cover myself back up. I'm tempted to make a show of it, to try and make him as uncomfortable as possible, but something tells me that won't work, it'll only give him what he wants. "What's wrong, boy," I tease. "Wanted a closer look?"

He rolls his eyes and smacks me so hard that my head hits the wall. I just smile back and lick the blood running from my nose off of my lips. "Thanks, my brother was getting hungry."

"Don't ever talk about him!" Aislinge yells so loud I flinch.

I won't let him think he's won though. "What, don't like the idea that a death god might be watching over me? Scared that you might be next? Maybe I should give him somemore, just to get his attention." I spit on the floor, letting some of the blood from my mouth hit his shoes.

Aislinge seems to compose himself. "Shut up." He sneers. "I'm going to have fun breaking you, maybe I'll even manage to make you an obedient pet one day. Take her." He waves a hand toward me as he walks out.

Two walking slabs of muscle oblige him and drag me along. I make a great effort to drag my feet and slow them down as much as I can. I don't care that the harsh tile flooring burns my toes, I don't care that I get a kick every so often for it, because I can see in Aislinge's face the most precious thing my Father ever taught me; fear.