Cattle Of The Gods
By: AC
The sun is all I see.
A tiny spot of sunlight that crawls across the earthen walls and floor of my cell. A tiny spot of light shining in through a tiny hole in the otherwise solid wooden ceiling.
The sun is all I see.
I sit here, tugging at the chain that runs from my ankle to a hook set in the ceiling. I pull and pull, but the chain only rattles its mocking laughter. I know that I'll never break the chain, but even its laughter is better than the quiet. In the quiet all I can hear is the beating of my traitorus heart. The beating that draws the attention of the dark god who keeps me hostage.
The sun is all I see. It marks the time between feedings.
Every day I watch as the sun moves down the wall of my cell, across the floor and up the opposite wall. I watch, and dread the moment that it dims and fades away. The moment that the dark god will rise. I can smell him as he pushes his way in to my cell, forcing his misty mass through the tiny hole that had recently contained only sun. He smells of molded yeast and dust. The smell of ages. I can feel the mist as it collects at my feet, pooling and building itself until it grows into his human form. Even in the total lack of light, he allows me to see him, forcing his image into my mind. I can see his smirkand the narrowing of his eyes as he leans over me. I see his nostrils flare as he breathes in my scent, taking it into the long dead organs of his body. He whispers that he can smell my fear just before his lips close upon my throat. I pray that he'll finish me this time, that he'll slip, lose control and drain me dry, but I know that he won't. His control is forged across centuries. Millenia.
I close my eyes as he draws my life past his lips.
The sun is all I see.
By: AC
The sun is all I see.
A tiny spot of sunlight that crawls across the earthen walls and floor of my cell. A tiny spot of light shining in through a tiny hole in the otherwise solid wooden ceiling.
The sun is all I see.
I sit here, tugging at the chain that runs from my ankle to a hook set in the ceiling. I pull and pull, but the chain only rattles its mocking laughter. I know that I'll never break the chain, but even its laughter is better than the quiet. In the quiet all I can hear is the beating of my traitorus heart. The beating that draws the attention of the dark god who keeps me hostage.
The sun is all I see. It marks the time between feedings.
Every day I watch as the sun moves down the wall of my cell, across the floor and up the opposite wall. I watch, and dread the moment that it dims and fades away. The moment that the dark god will rise. I can smell him as he pushes his way in to my cell, forcing his misty mass through the tiny hole that had recently contained only sun. He smells of molded yeast and dust. The smell of ages. I can feel the mist as it collects at my feet, pooling and building itself until it grows into his human form. Even in the total lack of light, he allows me to see him, forcing his image into my mind. I can see his smirkand the narrowing of his eyes as he leans over me. I see his nostrils flare as he breathes in my scent, taking it into the long dead organs of his body. He whispers that he can smell my fear just before his lips close upon my throat. I pray that he'll finish me this time, that he'll slip, lose control and drain me dry, but I know that he won't. His control is forged across centuries. Millenia.
I close my eyes as he draws my life past his lips.
The sun is all I see.