u n e

if only i could hold the fallen seraphim.

… but society forbids it …

---

The distinct sound of lashing resounded in the dim-lit dungeon accompanied by shrill, petrifying moans that bounced off the stonewalls. Although terrified, all persons attempted to catch a glimpse of the punished slave that had undeniably done something wrong to upset the nobles. They all watched with empathetic hazed portals – the open doors to their souls – and observed silently.

Crimson fluid stained her already frayed clothes that kept her adequately clothed and spattered against the cold, musty walls that were their prison. The little children shut their tainted eyes, refusing to look at the cold-blooded man who was currently beating his victim senseless.

One little girl in particular kept her eyes open to the scene in front of her, clutching a filthy teddy bear against her chest, its eye missing and its stuffing protruding at odd ends. However, its worthlessness proved nothing to her as she only dwelled in its comfort. She nibbled her bottom lip and continued to stare with emotionless eyes, eyes that would forever see the angry and unjust culture she was born in.

A grunt escaped the victim's lips, and she continued to endure the pain inflicted on her, yet the constant lashing had its effect when it had numbed her nerves slightly, thus any further burns imposed felt like blue ice, tending to the multiple wounds on her back.

He finally stopped and glared at the valiant girl, who was on her knees, her eyes cast away into the murky shadows.

"Never disobey your master." He said in a dangerously quiet voice.

From his pocket, he produced a black choker that he soon latched onto the girl's neck followed by the linking of a chain to her constraint.

"It's to keep you under control. Get used to it. If you attempt to disobey the Prince's wishes again, you shall be executed."

With one last lash, he departed and shut the dungeon door closed. The girl quickly crawled away from the pitiful stares and curled up into one of the corners.

A shaky sigh was released from her mouth, and she closed her eyes slowly.

All she wanted to do was rest until daybreak.

So eyes of claret shut and the compassionate Sandman walked through the Walls of Death and, without further warning, sprayed his dust on the young girl's face and sent her to a wonderful sleep where dreams never haunted her.

*

Streaks of sunlight crept through the cavities of the walls and illuminated the room (to a certain extent for darkness was victorious over light in the room that kept the people prisoners). The warm light bounced off the people's faces, and they moaned in annoyance before turning to Darkness where it kept them in its cold embrace as they savored the extra sleep offered to them. One, however, cracked open an eye and blinked through the dazzles reflected on his golden-specked brown eyes.

He sat up and stretched out his sore limbs, then combed a hand through his chocolate strands. His eyes scanned the area and they finally rested upon the deadbeat girl who had fallen asleep in the corner. He managed to stand up and walk on wobbly legs to her. Gently, he shook her shoulders as he attempted to wake the slumbering girl.

Successful at his endeavor, she shifted her weight on the ground and sat up against the wall, staring weakly at her friend, the man who had stayed by her side the minute she was thrown into the dungeon cell.

"Hey." She said with a weak smile.

His body shook with rage as he played tennis (if tennis had existed) with the thought of how someone could possibly whip an already frail girl and weaken whatever spirit she had left within her. He sighed and just stared at her whilst she, futilely, tried to fall back asleep. He almost felt guilty for disturbing her rare serenity but their shift started at the crack of dawn.

He helped her to her feet and she leaned against him for support as they trudged step-by-step to escape the sinister dark cloak that tried to choke them in its hold. However, as they opened the door to the daylight's radiance, it recoiled its fingers and contentedly rested on the other jaded and tortured jailbirds.

*