I was completely unaware of time as it seemed to slip by in the darkness. I had no way of telling wether it was morning or night, or how many minutes had ticked by as I sat against the cold, hard stone. It felt like hours. The silence was almost deafening. The only thing I could hear was a dull ringing in my ears as I waited for something to happen. Every now and then I heard a faint scuffling in a far corner, but I was far too scared to investigate, or to draw attention to myself. I didn’t know who or what was down here with me.
Hours seemed to creep by in the darkness. I fell into an uneasy sleep with my back propped up against the damp wall, and when I woke I was curled into the foetal position upon the straw lined floor. It was still pitch black, yet my eyes seemed to have adjusted slightly to the pressing darkness and I could make out darker shadows and objects within the space.
It was much bigger than I had expected and I could faintly make out several things. Many rows of thick iron bars were before me, and the cell I was in seemed to be extremely long and run the length of the stone wall. Scattered around the cell was at least twelve body-shaped figures huddled in corners. Prisoners. I found it highly odd that they didn’t make a noise, or talk amongst themselves. In fact, they weren’t moving at all. The only huddled figure that seemed to be breathing was the one closest to myself, a mere three meters away. I suddenly realised what the stench I had first noticed was. Rotting flesh. This cell had eleven dead bodies in it. Recently deceased by the smell of it. I gagged and clapped my hands to my mouth to prevent myself from screaming or sobbing. What kind of a place was this? Would I be left in this cell until I starved? Who were these people that had died down here in the darkness?
I could not stop the tears from flowing and cascading down my dirt encrusted cheeks. I still wasn’t used to these normal, wet, salty tears. They seemed foreign and odd.
Once I had calmed down, I made sure that I only breathed through my mouth, as to not inhale the stench of death. I turned my attention to the only other living body in the cell with me. They seemed determined to draw as little attention to themselves as possible.
My stomach rumbling with hunger I very slowly crawled across the floor, the chains around my feet clinking.
“Excuse me?” I whispered, my voice breaking and my throat aching from thirst.
No response. The person shied away from me as though I were about to attack them.
“I’m not going to hurt you.” I said softly, “I was just wondering if you knew where we were?”
Once again they did not speak and merely covered their face with their hands. I couldn’t make out the age of this person, nor could I tell what gender they were. Daring to sniff the air, a new smell of urine and excrements reached my nostrils. I gagged again and backed away.
A new thought occurred to me. Perhaps this person wasn’t talking to me because they couldn’t talk.
“Human.” I breathed.
I was being kept in a dungeon with eleven dead, and one barely alive human. My situation couldn’t possibly get any worse.
I broke from my trance when a loud noise from somewhere above made me jump. Thumping footsteps could be heard. A trap door opened beyond the cell bars, from the ceiling and several pairs of feet began descending stairs into the dungeon. Light poured in from the trap door and illuminated the men who made their way into the prison. The human huddled against the wall whimpered and seemingly tried to make themselves blend in with their surroundings. I could now see that the human was a young female, who looked about fifteen or sixteen years old. She was so disturbingly skinny that she looked androgynous, with no shape or curves on her body what so ever.
I turned my attention back to the Mages who were now at the bottom of the stairs. There were three of them, all dark shadows against the light meaning I had no idea who they were or if I knew them. Two of the men were tall and broad shouldered. The one on the left supported a thick bat in one hand, and the one on the right carried a large set of jingling keys. I guessed that these men were guards or alike. In between the guards was a shorter and narrower man, with a slight pot-belly undoubtedly due to too many spoils in life. I could tell right away who this silhouette belonged to - my worst nightmare.
“Master.” The guard carrying the bat said, bowing in the direction of the cell.
“Good lord man, it stinks down here.” Master Forsythe scolded his company, stepping closer to the cell bars which I was behind.
“Apologies, Master.”
“No, no. It’s not your fault.” Forsythe waved his hand dismissively, “Disgusting humans.” He said in an undertone, “Well what are you waiting for lad, unlock the cell!”