I have no idea where this story is truly heading, but I will love it every step of the way.

Give A Little More

She was thrust towards the floor, cheek colliding with hard, wet stone. If possible, her brow furrowed further. With a harsh yank, she was pulled back by her long silver hair into a kneeling position in front of the Banshee Queen herself. It took all of her self-control to not spit on the she witch again, because granted, having your face running into an unmoving object stopped being enjoyable after the sixth time around. Slowly, glowing silver eyes rose to stare blankly into heated red.

"You're just a stubborn one, aren't you night elf?"

"Why yes, yes I am my laadddyyy" I retorted back with an over exaggerated eye roll. She frowned down at me, and then clucked her tongue in distaste. I might as well be the scum under her boot from the Plaguelands for all she cared. Correction, I was. A small smile found its way on my cracked lips, but I quickly pursed it away.

"This isn't hard hunter, and trust me, we can keep this up for as long as it takes for you to starve and die from dehydration, and I would love to see that happen," she smiled cruelly at me from across the room, "but, I've got more important matters to deal with than to stand here and watch your body slowly wither away." Slowly, she stalked over to my bent position.

"Now tell me where they are, all of them. Tell me where those damn soldiers are and I might just spare you and turn you into one of mine."

"If that's what you consider bribery, you witch, you might want to reevaluate your playing cards," I shot back at her with a cool voice, emotion completely void. My head raised then to look at her expression, which was something that made my insides freeze.

"You'll die here for your ignorance, with or without your cooperation."

With that, she shadowed out of the room, barking orders for me to be put into one the lower chambers to be 'interrogated'. Interrogated my ass, more like tortured in the deepest circle of hell. Elune, watch over my soul and grant me passage into the next life. Insert grimace here.

Quickly, I was hefted from my position and dragged to another door and out of the room. The persistent throbbing from my left leg screamed at me to get my weight off of it, but my mind screamed to just ignore it for now and for Elunes sake, don't look at it unless I'd fancy vomiting all over myself at its gnarled appearance.

The Deathgaurds continued to drag me through winding passages that by the look of them weren't used too often, if the immense amount of spider webs and cockroaches gave any indication. That or they like their passageways disgusting and full of grim, mold and wildlife, and in that case, how considerate of them. Not only do you get beaten the crap out of in here, you get to be pulled through shit that hasn't see the light of day in centuries; such a welcoming, warm feel, don't you think?

When we got to the stairs, my body tensed and all that could run through my head was Oh HELL NO, HELL NOOOOO. But these damn Deathguards barely noticed my struggle to stay away from them. To say the trip down them was less than enjoyable would be one of the biggest understatements of my entire twenty six years of life. If I thought the hallway we had just come out of was bad, than I hadn't seen anything.

These stairs, if you could even call them that, were in the simplest form: ridiculous. First off, they weren't really stairs, more like ramps, creaky, unstable, and horrible. Being dragged over them is something I hope the Spirits, Elune or the Light never let happen to me again. Not even two pulls on that thing and I can feel dozens of splinters sinking into my skin, and to add to that, half way into the middle of it, a nail decided to pop up and make its appearance by inserting itself into my leg and not leaving until it had been from my upper thigh down to my shin. How delightful. Maybe this is one of their forms of pre-torture, because hell, it was working. She now hated this place more than she thought possible.

Next came the actual stairs, which I began to mentally flick off. I squeezed my eyes shut as we started to descend down them. My head lolled back in a moment of relief, only to notice something that had escaped my attention this whole forsaken trip. No pun intended. Trailing behind us was a herd of horde forsaken, watching me with glee in their creepy golden eyes as I was pulled down further into the darkness of their city. It was then that my stomach twisted into even more unpleasant knots. Hopefully I'd be kept far from the likes of them.

After the second stair case, the second ramp came, and that one was worse by far than the first one. I was sure that both legs were starting to resemble ground meat by now. Delicious.

When we finally returned to the hard, wet stone, I became grateful. The chilliness of the floor actually made my torn legs feel better, numbing them ever so slightly, making me let out a sigh of relief.

I started to wonder when this grand tour would come to end, but I didn't have to wait long until the Deathguards approached a seemingly solid wall. They pushed in a sequence of rocks in the wall, and just like something out of a book, the wall quivered slightly before opening up to a secret passageway. Joy, more dark, dank tunnels.

We continued down them for a bit, then, that's when I heard them. Screams. Shrill screams of the tortured. The fine hairs all over my body stood on end and my mind screamed to get out of there and run, gnarled leg or not, I had to LEAVE. I started to tug my arms in attempt to get the Deathguards to release, but this didn't even faze them, much to my chagrin, it actually made them speed up and grasp my upper arms even tighter. A small whimper escaped my throat before I could pull it back, and I prayed neither of them heard it.

A green yellow light appeared around a corner, and even more to my chagrin, that's exactly where we were headed. It didn't help my knotted stomach that that was where the screams were emanating from. Not wanting to be witness of the horrors happening in the room, I squeezed my eyes closed and willed my ears to close up. I didn't even think to prepare myself for the smell, and how foolish was I. Not even a few feet in the room and vomit sprung up out of my throat. I've always had a weak stomach for things like this; it was why I prided myself on making clean shots with minimal gore.

I felt my vomit stream from my mouth and down the front of my ragged linen shirt. The two Deathguards said something in gutterspeak to each other and then laughed down at me. I couldn't even manage to come up with a silent retort for them, my mind was spinning and I was sure I was about to faint like the big sissy I was in front of them and whoever or whatever was in this room with us.

Relief flooded me when we left the room and entered an empty room to the left of the one I had just vomited in. The Deathguards released my arms only so they could be put in shackles and raised above my head. They left the room after each gave a sharp kick to my ribs, and as I heard the door click shut, I began to survey my surroundings.

I now thought it was odd how they didn't bother blind folding my while the dragged me through what looked like was the center of their city. Were they really so cocky they thought I'd never get out of here? Maybe I wouldn't, but they didn't have to rub it in my beaten face. Seriously, let a girl have dreams.

It was hours or so before anyone entered the room, and just by looking at them, dread filled me. I cringed when they dropped to a knee and grasped my chin in their bony, undead hand. He turned my face this way and that before grinning, if you can even call it that, and dropping my face. Slowly he stood and walked to the door, and with his back facing me, locked the door with a click. I narrowed my eyes.

Let the games begin then.

I don't remember how long I had been in this room.

I don't remember how many times that undead priest came in here and defiled my body with his torture sessions.

I can't remember how many times I've passed out from blood loss only to be woken up by the priest so I can watch my bones be snapped back in place.

I can't remember how many times I've cursed his name, if he even had one.

I can remember though, how every time I wake up he's in my room watching me blankly, and muttering to himself.

This stupid priest had been working for Elune knows how long in trying to get me to spill the whereabouts of my battalion. His mind controlling or mind reading shit tricks weren't working. It helped being trained beforehand to resist this type of thing. I made sure to remind him each and every time his attempts to infiltrate my mind failed, and with an innocent grin i might add.

I know though that they have been doing experiments on me while I'm knocked out. I refuse though to survey the damage and seen how un-savable I've become. My only concern now was keeping my secrets to myself and spiting everyone who dared enter this rotten room.

There were a couple of things that I was truly certain of. A rescue team wasn't coming, and it wasn't that I didn't believe they were looking, but more of the fact they wouldn't know where to even bloody look. I was captured by the Banshee Queen herself who seemingly appeared out of thin air in the middle of a battle with the scourge in Northrend. It was completely random and infuriatingly stupid. Another thing I knew for certain was that Sylvannas would keep true to her word and have me rot down here with or without any information being given. The last fact I knew was that my body was broken, and in more ways than one. While my body was, for appearances sake, intact, most of my bones had been broken so many times, I swear I could sometimes feel them weeping under my skin. Hell, I wanted to cry with them too, and I did on multiple occasions.

I still wouldn't let myself look at the changes in my body, because honestly, that would just add more stress to this whole situation, and I didn't need that.

Slowly the only door leading to my room opened and in stepped the priest. I sighed. It was healing time. He did this roughly around thirty minutes before the torture session would take place. He walked over silently and began his process. I looked at him out of the corner of my eyes with dull interest. That was until I spotted it. Either the priest was being naive or he just made the worst mistake of his retched life. Strapped onto his belt was a small dagger, practically begging me to snatch it and slit the priests throat with or, better yet, slice his head clean off. Screw my weak stomach. I was in this for revenge now, and blood was going to spill regardless. My chapped lips screwed themselves into a malicious grin.

I shifted my upper body slightly so I was facing him a bit more, and with a slight nudge of my shoulder, the priest became unbalanced, and in an attempt to right himself, he raised himself off the ground. Insult on his rotting lips, he failed to notice how he perfectly placed his dagger right next to my hand. All it took was a quick pull and thrust and the priest was on his knees to her right holding his punctured abdomen.

Head slowly turning to him, a grin spread as I watched him start to heal his wound. A soft, malicious laughter I wasn't even aware I could make filtered out of my mouth, making him freeze.

"Burn in the depths of hell, Priest. Burn with your Queen and the rest of your kind," I spoke to him, voice icy and unforgiving. With a practiced move of the wrist, his head fell to the ground with a dull thud. Horror stricken expression forever etched onto his face.