Heir of the Dragon

A Monster

The black abyss that covered my mind like a pool of tar was slowly leaking away. Everything hurt; my jaw, my back, my wrists, my lungs. Every muscle felt as stiff as if I hadn't moved in years. One side of my face felt like it was pressed against ice and the other burned feverishly. I slowly forced my eyes open. Measure by measure my surroundings sunk into my bleary vision. The ice beneath me was the wet stone floor of a small barred cell. 

The wall I was staring at was stone but cut off halfway to the ceiling and the rest was barred, as was the whole front of the cell, including a heavy iron door to one side of it. I could see the huge bolts on the outside of the door, I counted six deadbolts, each as big around as my fist.  

I pulled my aching arms under me to push myself into a sitting position. My back cried pain as it bent. I forced a threatening scream into submission. Finally, I was sitting up, gritting my teeth at every pulse of heat and pain running up my arms and legs from the movement.  

In small intervals the pain subsided, leaving me breathing a little too heavily for my aching lungs. Turning a little I took in the back of the cell. Both walls were solid, grimy, damp, stone, dripping mournful little icy drops into the mossy corners.  

Somehow I had become a prisoner, though I hadn't any idea how. My mind still felt foggy, like nothing had taken place there for at least a few weeks. I searched through the cobwebs, looking for the most recent memory...water...I remember falling into the water. But what water? ...It was some kind of...pool....a stone pool, in a clearing.  

I looked down at my wrists, remembering the feeling of ropes wound tightly around them. My wrists... they were the most awful sight I had ever seen. In the faint light of the dungeon I studied my arms. They had thick, angry, blistered stripes around each one. The red was decorated with black and purple bruises that wound themselves up my arms.  

My skin tunic was died black and red with stains of old blood and dirt. My boots were gone and my feet burned but any wounds would have been invisible beneath a thick layer of dirt and grime. My loose breeches had become ripped rags that clung to me everywhere like a thick spider's web. My legs looked like bloody works of art. Black blue purple and red blotched my sickly skin. I could feel the bruises on my ribs every time I took a shaky breath. My whole body stung and every muscle I moved seemed sore like they had all been stretched too far. I attempted to roll my shoulders to ease the tension but stopped halfway and let out a whimper as the soreness erupted all over again. Someone else's laugh echoed into my stoney cell.

"So the worm awakes, does she?" The voice said, feminine and husky, "How was your nap?" I sat for a moment unsure of wether or not to answer. I couldn't tell if the voice came from the cell next to mine or from somewhere outside the bars. Deciding I had nothing to lose I pushed my sore voice through my throat. My mind couldn't process this right now.

"Where am I?" My voice came out sounding like a whispering frog.

"Disappointed?....D'you expect feather pillows? My....you sure made a fantastic show of yourself. I almost wish I'd have seen it...been a couple hundred years since one of you's come around, ah?" she chuckled back at me.

"What are you talking about?" I croaked, a little clearer this time.

"You! Where have you been hiding all these years? there are some of us that would have really appreciated if you'd got around to helping a little sooner."

"uuhg," I groaned, pulling my aching arms up to rub my palms against my temples, trying to fight off the dizzy headache I was getting.

"Mm...if you ask me, now would be the best time to get outta here. They didn't think you'd come back from the dead....guess they should have known better! They'll shackle you again if they find you awake,"