• Common • Rakahi • Gravokian
"A greedy father has thieves for children."
DATE
It certainly didn’t look like the kind of place where the teeth of men would be ripped out and fed to pigs, or the bones of the broken realigned to grow back in abhorrent rot. Well lit and clean, it would almost be welcoming to the casual visitor… If, of course, they didn’t look too closely at the glass stained windows and the scratches of desperation that riveted the sill, chipping through the paint from the attempted escapes of others - a voiceless plea of the damned.
The first sounds Navyri heard belonged to a man that echoed down the hall of endless doorways. It inspired her to dig her heels into the floor, but the surface was freshly waxed and she couldn’t get a good footing. His screams were raw and gurgling, “No!!!! Pleeeeeeeeeeaaaasssse, someone help meeeee!”
The hooded figures continued to draw her forward, towards the sound. Down the hall where dangers lurked and death awaited.
Navyri kicked and threw her weight from side to side; a sign of fear as she tried to pull at the thick roped leather that dug into her wrists; bits of glass interwoven in it so that it cut into her skin, “I think you have the wrong woman- Wait, wait, WAIT!” She twisted and launched her elbow at her captor, who side stepped and brought a thin baton cracking across her skull. The Naer collapsed to the floor, her vision cycled in and out. She tried to protest, to roll over but her head pounded. A sluggish warmth coated her scalp and soaked the back of her shirt. Cold, bony hands wrapped around her ankles and they began to drag Navyri from the pool of her own blood; a snail trail of ebony streaking behind her limp form.
"We've waited for you, Black Blood."
It certainly didn’t look like the kind of place where the teeth of men would be ripped out and fed to pigs, or the bones of the broken realigned to grow back in abhorrent rot. Well lit and clean, it would almost be welcoming to the casual visitor… If, of course, they didn’t look too closely at the glass stained windows and the scratches of desperation that riveted the sill, chipping through the paint from the attempted escapes of others - a voiceless plea of the damned.
The first sounds Navyri heard belonged to a man that echoed down the hall of endless doorways. It inspired her to dig her heels into the floor, but the surface was freshly waxed and she couldn’t get a good footing. His screams were raw and gurgling, “No!!!! Pleeeeeeeeeeaaaasssse, someone help meeeee!”
The hooded figures continued to draw her forward, towards the sound. Down the hall where dangers lurked and death awaited.
Navyri kicked and threw her weight from side to side; a sign of fear as she tried to pull at the thick roped leather that dug into her wrists; bits of glass interwoven in it so that it cut into her skin, “I think you have the wrong woman- Wait, wait, WAIT!” She twisted and launched her elbow at her captor, who side stepped and brought a thin baton cracking across her skull. The Naer collapsed to the floor, her vision cycled in and out. She tried to protest, to roll over but her head pounded. A sluggish warmth coated her scalp and soaked the back of her shirt. Cold, bony hands wrapped around her ankles and they began to drag Navyri from the pool of her own blood; a snail trail of ebony streaking behind her limp form.
"We've waited for you, Black Blood."