Posted: September 4, 2010 in writing
Tags: , ,
As she lay there, blood oozing from various wounds, Lela considering herself lucky.
Yes, lucky. Another person, less resilient, would certainly not have made it this far.
How far was this, you might ask.
Well, let’s just say it was pretty far. Further than the others. 

She could hear the guards talking outside the door. No matter how much teaching Kydon did, Lela knew she would never fully understand their revolting language. Har-kef. It was like vomiting and coughing at the same time. With whole sentences. You didn’t really need to understand it too well to know what their laughter was about though. A malicious chuckle.

She made a mental note to rip their throats out, on her way passed them when she got out of here. 

Lela eased herself slowly onto her elbows. Mentally checking for injuries. Nothing broken too badly, as far as she could work out. She should be able to stand.
She spat some blood. Well this time at least all her teeth were still in her mouth.

A happy thought! 

It was very dark and she could smell something dead in the corner. She hoped it was just a rat. Not some left over bits of a person. That would bring her day down. Quite badly. It was going so well so far!
She giggled softly to herself. A small smile creeping to her lips.

She heard another voice outside the door and all the humour drained from her body. If someone had seen her, they would have seen the blood drain from her face and her jaw clench. Her eyes narrowed in fury.

She tried to concentrate on the words being spoken. Not good.
She had to think fast. Managing to sit up, slowly, she felt around on the floor for something to use as a weapon. Her fingers met stickiness. Small pieces of something hard. Something furry. Something wet. She tried the other side and felt more grime covered small bits and pieces, and then her fingers brushed against something long and cold and hard. Tracing along the object, her hands found a splintered, shattered end. The other end had a smooth, almost oval, shape to it.

A femur.
And she would be getting revenge for some poor soul who died in this cold, dark place.
Even better. 

Prepare to die, Agh-Fal. You miserable piece of offal.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s