Vilmah
05-02-2006, 04:21 PM
Najme was dreaming. In her dream, the sky was a candy-pink color, and she swam in crystal blue water. She wore a long luxurious white dress, and although she was swimming, it felt neither heavy, nor cumbersome. Instead, she felt light, like a bird in the air as she swam through the water. Suddenly, she realized that she was following someone. In front of her, a handsome young man swam. She continued to follow him, enjoying the chase, and began to admire the way his muscular body tore through the water. For some reason, he began to slow down. She gained on him, and saw that up close, he wasn’t as young as she realized. Also, his muscles seemed less defined. As she continued to swim closer, he continued to age. The moment she finally caught up to him, he was dead in her arms, looking up with eyes of accusation and anger. Najme screamed, and awoke.
She found herself inside of a dark room, and realized at once that she was uncomfortable. Her wrists were chained to a wall, which kept her suspended. Her shoulder joints were sore and throbbing, and she realized that in the time she had been hanging there, they had become dislocated. Her body prickled against a chill, and she looked down to discover that the clothes Laron had given her were stripped away, and she wore nothing but a series of leather straps that wound about her, covering her modestly, but showing enough to be provocative. The straps themselves were connected to the walls at well, which held her in place against the cold stones at her back. She tried to ignore the itchy feeling as an insect of some kind crawled up her skin.
Then there was the smell…
All around her was the smell of decay. Najme felt damp and sweaty, and realized that to her horror, her human needs hadn’t been cared for, and there was a puddle of her own urine on the floor between her forcibly separated feet. Feeding from it, various insects made their way to her feet, and as she fought back the urge to vomit, a rat came and devoured them all.
The walls were covered in chains and shackles. In front of Najme, she could see a table which was also covered in shackles and chains. Tables just like it surrounded the floor space, and shelves upon shelves full of body parts and painful metal instruments cluttered the area around the only exit. The exit itself was a door, leading to a set up stairs that went up. Beyond that, Najme could not see. Her attention was given to the series of bodyparts that remained shackled to many of the tables, and the fine layer of dried blood which had become caked into nearly every crevice in the room.
The sound of footsteps forced Najme to look up, and see the silhouette of an enshrouded woman against the stone walls. “Have we finally awoken, little miss?” Asked the voice, who’s shadow danced amongst the chains which hung on every wall.
“Who are you? What have you done??” Najme asked hoarsely, fighting back the tears which came in torrents, anyway.
The robed woman stepped daintily towards Najme. She had a very small frame, and the robes did nothing to hide her figure, but hid her identity very well. A pair of glowing eyes looked over Najme’s body, and her hands, skeletal yet still quite feminine, stroked her skin. “Who I am matters little to you, my poppet. You’re going to make me very very successful.”
The undead woman chuckled, and drew her sleeves up her arms as she went through stacks upon stacks of herbs in one of the cabinets. Finally, she came to a jar full of acid blue liquid, which had a strange ethereal glow to it. Opening the jaw, Najme felt as if she could “smell” cold. Her teeth chattered as she pleaded with her captor, “Please, don’t hurt me. I haven’t been free for more than a day, and already you have—“
“Freedom is in the eye of the beholder, my dear,” said the undead. “Don’t worry. If this works, you’ll be free to go, and I’ll be a genius. If not… well, lets try to keep a sunny side up, shall we?”
Najme watched as the other women poured herbs, bits of skin, and cockroaches into the blue liquid. It swirled and churned, creating a brown mud-like substance that smelled like a peat bog laden with animal carcasses. “..y-you’re not going to make me drink that, are you?”
“Drink it?? Oh heavens no, child!”
The woman dipped her fingers into the concoction, and proceeded to run it all over her skin. “…this is to keep the bugs at bay. Horrible things, you know. No manners.”
“Please tell me what you want from me, and I’ll give it to you..” Najme said through gritted teeth.
The woman walked to her, and tickled beneath Najme’s chin with her long sharp claw-like finger. “All I want from you is your cooperation. See? Isn’t that simple? Now, hang up there like a good girl, and I’ll be right back.”
The undead woman walked out, and Najme caught sight of something that could be useful… a tabard. A guild tabard, it seemed. The tabard was black, with a gold outline, and the symbol looked like a ribcage, giving the macabre illusion that the woman wearing it was somehow see-through. Najme kept this piece of information tucked into her memory, but when the undead woman returned, she couldn’t suppress a scream. By her side was a man. He was naked, but his genitalia had been removed, and by the looks of it, cauterized. His left arm hung awkwardly, and only then did Najme realize that it wasn’t his arm at all. It was the arm of an orc. And had been hideously stitched to the man’s shoulder. Dried blood continued to crust over the wound.
The man uttered a rhaspy moan, as the undead woman gave him tasks throughout the room. As he walked closer to Najme, she could see that his mouth had been permanently held open by fish hooks; one, tearing his bottom lip downwards, the end of it’s string attached to another hook in his navel. The other two hooks, stretching his mouth by their corners, were held in place as their opposite ends connected to fish hooks, tearing holes into his earlobes. His eyes, which constantly darted from one place to another, bore needles in a circular pattern around his irises. On his back was a tattoo of a ribcage, identical to the one on the undead woman’s guild tabard, although he didn’t seem to need it. His bones were clearly visible under his milky white skin, in addition to deep blue and green veins, and the mechanically enhanced joints which creaked with every movement.
When finally the undead woman’s work with her assistant seemed completed, she walked towards Najme in an almost giddy fashion. She held up before her, a pumpkin.
“…would you like some?”
Najme spit at the woman. “I’d much sooner eat fire.”
“That can be arranged, but seeing as how you’re not being cooperative, I guess I’ll find a much more fun way to do this. Gerald?”
The woman’s assistant reached up, and tore two of the needles from his eyes, whimpering the whole time. His orc hand shoved into her mouth, he ignored her biting his fingers while, with his smaller, human hand, he drove the needles into Najme’s cheeks. For a few moments, it seemed as if he was using the large needles to sew through her flesh, when n actuality, he was creating a source of leverage to thread pieces of metal string, which he then attached to the wall behind her. Najme’s mouth held forcibly opened thus, he removed his mangled hand from her mouth, and went away to tend the wounds.
“There. Now! That’s much better,” coed the undead woman, as she stroked Najme’s cheek, which was slowly tearing from all of her struggling. “But you can still open and close your jaw, can’t you? Silly Gerald, not finishing his work. GERALD!”
Gerald returned, and once again forced Najme’s jaw open. Instead of using needles this time, however, he returned with five large fish hooks, of a larger design than even he had. Forcing them into Najme’s gums, he attached more string, and tied them off into two separate knots. After this, he removed two more needles, and ripped off the top half of Najme’s bindings. He drove the needles into her nipples, and attatched the strings to them, connecting her jaw and breasts together.
“Lets see you close your mouth now, shall we?” The woman said, tearing off a piece of the pumpkin, and giving it to Gerald. With one of his thick orc fingers, he shoved the piece down Najme’s throat.
The pain had become unbearable. The blood felt hot, trickling down her skin. Her breath felt colder and colder, as the room spun, and finally, everything went black.
To be continued…
She found herself inside of a dark room, and realized at once that she was uncomfortable. Her wrists were chained to a wall, which kept her suspended. Her shoulder joints were sore and throbbing, and she realized that in the time she had been hanging there, they had become dislocated. Her body prickled against a chill, and she looked down to discover that the clothes Laron had given her were stripped away, and she wore nothing but a series of leather straps that wound about her, covering her modestly, but showing enough to be provocative. The straps themselves were connected to the walls at well, which held her in place against the cold stones at her back. She tried to ignore the itchy feeling as an insect of some kind crawled up her skin.
Then there was the smell…
All around her was the smell of decay. Najme felt damp and sweaty, and realized that to her horror, her human needs hadn’t been cared for, and there was a puddle of her own urine on the floor between her forcibly separated feet. Feeding from it, various insects made their way to her feet, and as she fought back the urge to vomit, a rat came and devoured them all.
The walls were covered in chains and shackles. In front of Najme, she could see a table which was also covered in shackles and chains. Tables just like it surrounded the floor space, and shelves upon shelves full of body parts and painful metal instruments cluttered the area around the only exit. The exit itself was a door, leading to a set up stairs that went up. Beyond that, Najme could not see. Her attention was given to the series of bodyparts that remained shackled to many of the tables, and the fine layer of dried blood which had become caked into nearly every crevice in the room.
The sound of footsteps forced Najme to look up, and see the silhouette of an enshrouded woman against the stone walls. “Have we finally awoken, little miss?” Asked the voice, who’s shadow danced amongst the chains which hung on every wall.
“Who are you? What have you done??” Najme asked hoarsely, fighting back the tears which came in torrents, anyway.
The robed woman stepped daintily towards Najme. She had a very small frame, and the robes did nothing to hide her figure, but hid her identity very well. A pair of glowing eyes looked over Najme’s body, and her hands, skeletal yet still quite feminine, stroked her skin. “Who I am matters little to you, my poppet. You’re going to make me very very successful.”
The undead woman chuckled, and drew her sleeves up her arms as she went through stacks upon stacks of herbs in one of the cabinets. Finally, she came to a jar full of acid blue liquid, which had a strange ethereal glow to it. Opening the jaw, Najme felt as if she could “smell” cold. Her teeth chattered as she pleaded with her captor, “Please, don’t hurt me. I haven’t been free for more than a day, and already you have—“
“Freedom is in the eye of the beholder, my dear,” said the undead. “Don’t worry. If this works, you’ll be free to go, and I’ll be a genius. If not… well, lets try to keep a sunny side up, shall we?”
Najme watched as the other women poured herbs, bits of skin, and cockroaches into the blue liquid. It swirled and churned, creating a brown mud-like substance that smelled like a peat bog laden with animal carcasses. “..y-you’re not going to make me drink that, are you?”
“Drink it?? Oh heavens no, child!”
The woman dipped her fingers into the concoction, and proceeded to run it all over her skin. “…this is to keep the bugs at bay. Horrible things, you know. No manners.”
“Please tell me what you want from me, and I’ll give it to you..” Najme said through gritted teeth.
The woman walked to her, and tickled beneath Najme’s chin with her long sharp claw-like finger. “All I want from you is your cooperation. See? Isn’t that simple? Now, hang up there like a good girl, and I’ll be right back.”
The undead woman walked out, and Najme caught sight of something that could be useful… a tabard. A guild tabard, it seemed. The tabard was black, with a gold outline, and the symbol looked like a ribcage, giving the macabre illusion that the woman wearing it was somehow see-through. Najme kept this piece of information tucked into her memory, but when the undead woman returned, she couldn’t suppress a scream. By her side was a man. He was naked, but his genitalia had been removed, and by the looks of it, cauterized. His left arm hung awkwardly, and only then did Najme realize that it wasn’t his arm at all. It was the arm of an orc. And had been hideously stitched to the man’s shoulder. Dried blood continued to crust over the wound.
The man uttered a rhaspy moan, as the undead woman gave him tasks throughout the room. As he walked closer to Najme, she could see that his mouth had been permanently held open by fish hooks; one, tearing his bottom lip downwards, the end of it’s string attached to another hook in his navel. The other two hooks, stretching his mouth by their corners, were held in place as their opposite ends connected to fish hooks, tearing holes into his earlobes. His eyes, which constantly darted from one place to another, bore needles in a circular pattern around his irises. On his back was a tattoo of a ribcage, identical to the one on the undead woman’s guild tabard, although he didn’t seem to need it. His bones were clearly visible under his milky white skin, in addition to deep blue and green veins, and the mechanically enhanced joints which creaked with every movement.
When finally the undead woman’s work with her assistant seemed completed, she walked towards Najme in an almost giddy fashion. She held up before her, a pumpkin.
“…would you like some?”
Najme spit at the woman. “I’d much sooner eat fire.”
“That can be arranged, but seeing as how you’re not being cooperative, I guess I’ll find a much more fun way to do this. Gerald?”
The woman’s assistant reached up, and tore two of the needles from his eyes, whimpering the whole time. His orc hand shoved into her mouth, he ignored her biting his fingers while, with his smaller, human hand, he drove the needles into Najme’s cheeks. For a few moments, it seemed as if he was using the large needles to sew through her flesh, when n actuality, he was creating a source of leverage to thread pieces of metal string, which he then attached to the wall behind her. Najme’s mouth held forcibly opened thus, he removed his mangled hand from her mouth, and went away to tend the wounds.
“There. Now! That’s much better,” coed the undead woman, as she stroked Najme’s cheek, which was slowly tearing from all of her struggling. “But you can still open and close your jaw, can’t you? Silly Gerald, not finishing his work. GERALD!”
Gerald returned, and once again forced Najme’s jaw open. Instead of using needles this time, however, he returned with five large fish hooks, of a larger design than even he had. Forcing them into Najme’s gums, he attached more string, and tied them off into two separate knots. After this, he removed two more needles, and ripped off the top half of Najme’s bindings. He drove the needles into her nipples, and attatched the strings to them, connecting her jaw and breasts together.
“Lets see you close your mouth now, shall we?” The woman said, tearing off a piece of the pumpkin, and giving it to Gerald. With one of his thick orc fingers, he shoved the piece down Najme’s throat.
The pain had become unbearable. The blood felt hot, trickling down her skin. Her breath felt colder and colder, as the room spun, and finally, everything went black.
To be continued…