As The World Turns Cold

Harder To Have Faith

Mercy awoke later to utter darkness. The sun didn't reach the place she was holed up in. Night terrors haunted her throughout the hours, but she still felt wide awake. Her body was used to very little sleep. She'd never had a reason to feel safe, much less feel content enough to sleep when filthy mongrels like those guards existed. If she were asleep, she would have much more to fear.

Mercy counted softly to herself, waiting for the routine to begin anew. When several minutes had passed, she'd begun to hear a tapping sound and the click of a door.

Bathed in the fluorescent lights from the corridor, Dr. Snyde shuffled in. She saw his wicked grin first before he shut the door, letting darkness encompass them again.

He laughed and took his time with turning on the dim light that hung above her. He gripped her shoulders in his hands; the right was heavily bandaged from their last encounter. Though broken before, she knew he had a few tricks up his sleeve to help aid the healing process.

"Today, I'm going to make you angry."

Dr. Snyde looked her in the eyes before speaking again. "This should be an easy day for you. All you have to do is react."

Mercy scowled. "And where would the fun be in letting you have your way?"

His foot lashed out, crushing hers and Mercy hissed at the pain. "I assure you, I'll have more fun if you keep acting up. You've got over two hundred bones. I could break them one at a time until I get the result I want."

He paused, taking a moment to adjust the bandage on his hand that had begun to unravel at the end. "Tell me, girl, do you honestly want more pain when you can spare yourself another day."

Mercy gripped the edge of the chair arm, letting the metal bite at her skin. "When has my decision ever mattered?"

Dr. Snyde shrugged. "I suppose you are right." His foot dug in a little harder. Mercy gripped the chair with agonizing strength, but the biting pain wasn't enough to keep her calm.

"Oh, but I do love to have my fun with you. It's why we took you. I wanted to study you; find out what you were capable of. But your dear parents hid you for so long- taught you how to hide it- that by the time we found you we couldn't get the answers out of you." Dr. Snyde pulled a dagger out of his waist pocket. He ran the steel along the cuff of his white robe. The gleam of the metal showed Mercy's terrified reflection. "One day you will stop fighting."

Dr. Snyde bent his head back and put the knife up against the light, letting it gleam a bit more as he contemplated his next move.

Mercy clenched her fists tightly; her body was stiff, knowing what was coming next.

Dr. Snyde grinned and moved the knife against her throat, letting it graze her flesh. She could feel blood rushing up to her throat, but she didn't believe he had cut deep enough to do any actual harm. Then she felt the knife dig in deeper and she couldn't control herself anymore.

Mercy could feel her skin tightening, her eyesight sharpened, and she flexed her hands, straining against her binds. She huffed and growled, trying to get out, wanting nothing more than to snap his neck.

He stumbled back, reaching for his notebook in the dim light. "You-you just-" Dr. Snyde's eyes grew with delight. His experiment had finally displayed an inhuman-like quality.

His laughter echoed throughout the large chamber and she shivered inwardly at the sound. If anyone's laugh could kill, it would be his.

His notebook dragged across the floor in a screech and he took out his hand. "It seems you might prove fruitful after all." He declared as his pen scratched across the weathered paper.

"Well then," He cleared his throat and glanced up at her, his eyes wide with humor, "I shall leave you for the day. Until tomorrow, Mercy Baudelaire."

The door shut with a long whine, taking away the remaining light from her empty world. Mercy missed her parents and her little sister. What was she up to now? She would be fifteen, exactly four years her junior. Would they have forgotten her after so long?

Mercy cried softly in the darkness. What would it matter anyway? She would never go back. There was no way out.

                                                                                              ~†~

Her mother tried frantically to quiet her youngest daughter and momentarily forgot about Mercy making a wish as she blew out the candles on her now forgotten birthday cake. One cry from her little sister and suddenly it didn't matter that Mercy should have all eyes focused on her as her little, childish heart lit up with giddiness at the idea of blowing a wish out into the heavens in hopes it would be answered.

Bernedette turned around to find her daughter's gaze resting on her. "Sorry, pumpkin, your sister is being spiteful today. What did you wish for? Want to share that secret with momma?"

Mercy shook her head. "I can't share it, silly. If I do, then it won't come true." She smiled up at her parents, but the expression quickly fell as she registered the fear in her mother's eyes.

The front door creaked open and the voice of barbarian called out. "It's not going to come true, anyway, Mercy Baudelaire. Wishes and luck have just run out for you."

                                                                                           ~†~

Mercy didn't know how much time had passed as she sat strapped to the iron chair. One length of silence was shorter than the next. Time never was her friend. She always ran out of it before she could escape, much less plot a plan. In one second, it felt like the sun had burst and the day had gone.

She closed her eyes, soaking up the rancid air and numbness that came with the cold temperature. Before long she'd have no feeling left.

In a way, it was nice to feel numb. There was a void inside of her and with each moment, she lost the will to continue. Sometimes, it was harder to have faith than it was to truly fight.