Dust (Of Dust and Darkness) - By Devon Ashley Page 0,42
tears and chest convulsions are instantaneous, and as much as I try to contain them, I can’t. The veins in my wings overheat and a fiery burn encroaches the nerves of my spine, sending painful shivers throughout my body.
Finley’s laugh echoes cruelly. “Give it another break.”
I gasp before the spriggan returns pressure to my back and squishes me down. There’s a second crack, this time to the piece joining my lower wings. I want to scream, but until the spriggan decides to release his weight, all I can do is whimper. Tears flood my eyes and drench my face. My breaths come short and fast, unable to fill with any more air, and my midsection begins to cramp.
Finley leans down to my line of sight. My vision is blurry and distorted, so I actually see three sets of creepy smiles staring down at me. “Tell you what. Next time, if you haven’t realized you’re a nobody that belongs here, I’m going to have your wings broken in sixty-eight places. Just to get it through that thick head of yours.”
I close my eyes and moan, not caring if he sees it as defeat. He’d fare no better against this monstrous beast. I don’t remember them leaving or the cave fading to darkness. I only awake because a rush of water slaps the floor beside me and rebounds up and over my body. It drenches my wings, adding more weight to their delicate structure, and I scream as the two breaks shift downward, intensifying the steady pain. I pull my body into the fetal position and cry my heart out, letting it all out: the cries, the screams, the trembles; until the dark within the darkness takes me.
Something presses deep against my neck. It’s scratchy enough to snag my hairs and completely unwelcome, but my body doesn’t seem to react.
“Is it alive?” a gruff voice asks.
“Seems to be.”
Spriggans. Not Finley. Either way, I find any of their hands touching me disgusting. I snap my head and the hand retreats. I mutter, “Rosalie.”
One huffs, the other chuckles. A hard metal object suddenly crashes against my forehead and water drowns my head. For a second, my body jumps at attention, then succumbs to numbness immediately. Multiple soft thumps hit the floor before me, but I don’t open my eyes until the spriggans take off. Before the light fades, I notice several blueberries scattered across the floor. Lightning fast, I spring to collect every last one of them, ignoring the sharp pains and cramped muscles throughout my body. I also snag the bucket before all the water leaks out, catching ripples with my eyes before I’m in complete darkness again.
Blood trickles down my forehead. The only reason I know I’m bleeding is because I feel the warmth of the liquid coating my skin as it drips down the side of my face. I couldn’t care less in this moment. For the first time in days I have food and water that I haven’t had to suck off the ground. Three blueberries rock gently in my cupped hands. I sigh gently and indulge every succulent bite, even though I still can’t really taste anything. But in this moment I remember their flavor, and I swear I can almost taste the semi-sweet juice zapping the taste buds on my tongue back to life. When finished, I tip the bucket carefully and allow the remaining water to flow gently into my mouth. The first sip I swallow. The second I take the time to swish thoroughly around my mouth and wet my chalky dried-out lips. It’s been so long since I’ve brushed my teeth that I’ve almost become accustomed to the velvety overgrowth. I use my fingernails to scratch away as much residue as possible. I don’t even care that I swallow some of that crap, figuring it’s just one more thing that my stomach can digest.
I’m really not feeling well. Days without usable water and little to no food on a body that was stick-thin to begin with are making me waste away before my eyes. I laugh quietly to myself. Before my eyes. As if I can actually see the physical toll my body is going through. But I can feel it, particularly in my ribs and around my wrists. I didn’t have a lot of muscle left before I got thrown down here, but at least I was using them. Now that I’m stranded in a small roughly-shaped circular hole, it feels as if my