I don't own Secret Circle or Faye.
She's so cold. So much darkness surrounds her. Not a light shines in this h*ll of hers. They'll come for me, she sneered at them, those taunting voices in the darkness. My circle will come, and they will destroy you. But they are unphased, they laugh at her, like she is some naive child who cannot see the truth that hangs ominously obvious.
The pain. The voices have left. They've been gone for hours, days, weeks maybe. Though she does not eat she is somehow sustained, perhaps magically. However though she does not keel over from starvation, the pain of hunger is always there, as though she's been weeks without eating. And perhaps she has. Now all she has to keep her company is the pain, and the sounds of her own screams.
So much pain. The gushing wound struck at her ribs, by some unseen hand. Unable to escape from the pole that she is tied to, she deals with each pain as it hits her. Some are sharp like knives, possibly from magic or from a genuine knife to the ribs. She resists at first, not allowing them the satisfaction of hearing her cry out. But eventually the pain swamps her like a tsunami, leaving her choking and screeching, gasping for air against the invisible hands locked around her neck. And then she is lost to it completely, and every blow elicits an inhuman keening from her chapped lips.
Her mind is numb. Thoughts no longer pass freely through her head, they simply flicker and fade. She is unable to hold on to anything, no longer able to process the world around her. Her senses have all been robbed, because in this h*ll hole, there is no smell, or taste, or sight, or feeling (other than the pain of course). Her tears have long since run dry, and she has ceased to feel the ropes that trap her, leaving her with nothing, no sense of feeling. All she can feel now is the pain, her ears suddenly deafened to her own screams. Nothing is real anymore. It's just her and the pain in their solitary universe.
Her and the pain are huddling together. They've been doing this for a while, and she can't help but clutch at the one thing that has stayed with her, when everything else left. She can think better, now that she is embracing the pain. She smiles a mocking sort of smile for show, but then she remembers that no one is there to see it. The smile changes into a bitter smirk as she clutches for the pain again. She never used to be a masochist, she thinks. But perhaps she's just fooling herself. She faintly remembers time before everyone left. She can't quite call up images, but the words sunshine, magic, and friends float across the surface of her mind. Pain suddenly snaps a barbed whip at her, chastising her for thinking about back then. It asks her how she could even think about those traitors, the ones who left her, while pain stayed with her through everything. She remembers it suddenly and embraces the pain again, silently sorry that she has strayed from the one constant in her life. The pain accepts her apology graciously, allowing her to sink deep into it and away from the real pain. The pain of losing everything.