Whispers of the Broken and Damned

by H.B.Hanna

After the war, the King of Hybern and half of his forces escape death and flee to the ash-filled In-Between, a realm where Lyra was raised, tortured, and corrupted. Azriel's mission: capture her and break her. But beneath the shadows and madness, something far darker begins to stir. As Hybern rises again, can they work together to destroy the ruin he's built?

2. Are you okay?

Are you okay?

Drip, drop. Drip, drop. Drop, drap, drip.

No, that's not how it's supposed to go. It's supposed to be drip, drip, drop, drop—drip, drop, drip. I would know. I've been studying the slow trickle of blood for the past hour, willing it to stop, to finally run dry, taking my life with it. If only I were that lucky.

Drip, drip. Drop, drop. Drap, drip, drop.

No, still not right. Even my own blood plays tricks on me, making me question what's real. It's supposed to be drip, drip, drop, drop—drip, drop, drap. I know it should.

The shadows come, as they always do, dancing and teasing, laughing and taunting, mocking my latest attempt at freedom.

"Fray off" I mumble, rolling my eyes to the ceiling's map of cracks and crevices, lakes and streams, or valleys and ravines, it depends on the day, on the lanterns, lit and bright or snuffed of life.

Then they come, dark and towering, plastered faces and off kilter paces. Nothing here is right, although nothing here is wrong. My cage is opened briefly, bars of metal screeching. They haul me to my feet, no life behind their eyes, demanding that I rise. My arm is taken hostage, not one complaint from me, the healers are here, just sit tightly, my dear.

Pulling and mending, saving my life or just pretending? The pain comes briefly, its song sharp and bright. I would sing back with wails and cries, begging to be saved from this demise. Only, my fire's long gone, unable to rise. It's drowned deep in the streams with all those painful goodbyes.

The monster is back, watching his broken prize, his face cast in darkness, something I recognize. The shadows draw closer, my failure publicized. He says that word again sorry.

Stop. You can't apologize. You were the one who constantly criticized. My mind may be frayed, fractured and full of why's? But you- I see right through your disguise.