Chapter 3: Know Thy Place

The sharp sound of metal grating against metal filled the air as the silhouette of two figures on a raised platform clashed with their medieval swords, coming to an equal standstill as they fought each other’s strength for dominance, teeth grinding desperately against each other, eyes narrowed, and sharp.

“Give. Up.” The taller of the two ground out, eyes sliding side to side for a moment calculatively, before sidestepping, using the momentum of the other to whirl his wrist around swiftly but gracefully.

The tides instantly turned as he dropped his weapon to his other hand ambidextrously and jabbed a sharp elbow right to the other’s thorax, winding his opponent viciously.

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Chapter 2: The Dungeon of Affliction and Fortitude

The knot in Elysia’s belly violently clenched as the hiss of another blade sliced past her face, drawing a fresh slash of blood.

The girl struggled, but the dirty rag stuffed in her mouth was obstructing her breathing and her chest heaved. The ropes were tied tightly, binding her restrictively to a stake buried in the stinking ground.

Five days.

One hundred and one knives occasionally scraped past her face.

No food, little water.

No sight.

The light flutter of the blindfold battered itself against the side of the eight-year-old’s cheek.

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Chapter 1: The Dungeon of Perception

Elysia’s Training with the Grimm Family

The small tiny, seven-year-old sat as still as a statue in the middle of the inky darkness, muscles quivering with tension as she took slow, panicked gulps of breath in the stale putrid air.

Two years of the Grimm family training and the young girl was still, unfortunately, unused to the terrible environment she was about to be hurled in.

The dungeon’s doors boomed before her, admitting the previous trainee into its dark maws, the lack of sight before the young child exponentially increasing her fear, as screams of terror and choked gargles of bloodied lungs ripped through the air before her.

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The deepest and fondest memory that the young girl remembered was of a soft feathery bed, warm from the fire but reeking with the smell of rotten mould. The memory itself was hazy, for fever had burned her chubby cheeks a desperate red, sweat beading the tiny child’s forehead as a lady bends over the feverish child, pressing a icy cold cloth to her forehead. The lady tending to the child was beautiful, had she not had a burn mark running across her face, hidden partially by the soft lovely locks of blonde hair that streamed from her head—the same lush curls that decorated the young feverish girl’s head.

Frustration coloured her youthful face, the sides of her dress slipping off her pale shoulder as she angrily throws the wet towel into the basin, the water splashing over the sides as she paced the room, the soft sounds of the young girl’s labored breaths filling the tiny, cramped and mouldy room.

Where was he? He promised he’d be here since Elysia fell ill.

Continue reading “Prologue”


Chapter 1: The Patient

Freedom, is Death.

Karlis thought as the ring of the bells tolled monotonously through the hallways as he turned his head carefully from side to side.

Tick Tock.

Tick Tock.

The mouse ran up the clock.

“It’s time for your medication, Mr Turner.” The soft melodious voice echoed in his clotted ears like nicotine, sweet, cloying and ever so suffocating. Karlis’ eyes rolled in his head, the only physical response he was capable of as the nurse walked ominously towards his chair. Everything about her was poisonous. He could feel it, as she gently touched his arm and lifted it, wiping the scabbed skin of his inner arm with a swab and gently pushing the large needle out, swiftly changing the medication made for his rotting body.

“Relax, it’s only morphine, which will decrease your pain.” Large doe-like blue eyes stared glaring at him, stinging his wide eyes. She tapped the dangling bag gently, humming as the liquid begin to run its course. Karlis felt his mouth open slowly, the soft gargling was all but what was left of his once immaculate voice. “Don’t speak, sir.” The nurse frowned, watching as his heart monitor begun to rise in frequency. “Just relax. Your heartbeat is going out of control.” She soothed softly, brushing a lank damp fringe of brown hair back in it neat organised place on his forehead. Karlis wheezed, feeling the ice cold medication begin to enter his veins.

The clock struck one

The mouse ran down.

Oh, Hickery Dickery Dock.

Karlis felt his body go limp, the muscles within his own body relaxing to nothing as the medicine ran its course.

“Ahhhh…” Drool splattered down his front and side as his muscles sagged, and the nurse laughed softly, in a manner that seemed, to anyone normal, as perfectly endearing.

“Oh look at you.” She chided gently, jerking up the bib around Karlis’s neck and roughly wiping his coarse lips with it. “Such a mess.” Karlis wanted to chuckle at the irony of her words, but words failed him, his breath evening out in long wheezing gasping breaths that told tales of his health. He looked at the nurse through his heavy lidded drooping eyes, and a random thought popped into his head.

I wonder how she’d react if I told her to just let me die.

He couldn’t see it, but he could envision it, the gasp of horror that would take over her pink lips, the large doe blue eyes wide with horror and disbelief, and then the hysterical and crying voice of why give up when life is so precious! Karlis wanted to laugh. Or maybe cry. Either one. He didn’t know which reaction was appropriate for himself anymore.

A smile pulled against his wide drooping lips.

I want to die.

The truth was nothing but plain delight in his eyes.

I want to fly, like a bird.

Spread my wings

And leap.

The nurse left the room. And Karlis’ finger moved.