HOME | DD

Description
Drip... drip... drip...

Drops of rainwater streamed down the stone wall on the far side of the cell from a small crack in the ceiling above; the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black room. Each drop, which only added more moisture to the molded brown streak on the wall, pooled at the bottom of the cell, leaving an ever-growing source of liquid nourishment for it's sole inhabitant.

Curled up on the floor, shrouded amongst the cold, dank shadows of her prison was a young woman; a creature born of both man and beast, covered clad in thick, brown fur. While her face was that of a wild Jackal, her eyes were those of a human; colored a bright, radiant orange, which greatly contrasted her ragged and famished appearance. She was clothed in little more than two withered garments; the first concealing her (somewhat) ample chest, the second wrapped about her lower torso and thighs.

And upon her right arm, the engraved iron gauntlet that was her true prison.

She lay there, nearly motionless for what seemed like days, the only audible sounds being those of the weak drizzle outside, and the occasional scream for help or loud bang from down the corridor. Sometimes the banging would repeat for a few moments, and the screaming would be replaced with quiet, muffled sobbing. Then, the silence would once again linger, only to be broken when the cycle began again.

Not that she payed any mind to it.

At least, not anymore she didn't.

As horrible as it seemed, and was, she had long since become accustomed to the screaming of her fellow prisoners. It wasn't as though she could help them anyway. No one could help them, and no one could help her. Yet, she considered herself fortunate. She had only been beaten two or three times, while many others received punishment upwards of four to five times a day. This was because she chose to remain quiet. She wanted to give those beastly ogres no reason to open her cell. Should she keep her head low, perhaps she could spend the rest of her wretched existence in some degree of peace.

Sleep, however, came no easier to her in this "peace." Though she could sometimes manage to nod off between feedings, (as rare as they were,) she more often layed there, eyes barely open, thinking. Thinking about her family, her past, her present, her future. She couldn't help but do so, as other than occasionally getting up to stretch her fragile, slender frame, there was little way to pass the time. Time which she, among the many others around her, had plenty of.

Slowly, the young woman brought herself up to her knees; her tired bones and aching joints screaming out in pain as she did so. After a moment, she cradled both arms to her bust, palms facing upward. Looking down at them, a small flame sparked in the air above them. It was no larger than that of a candle's, but it's light and warmth was always more than enough to sustain her.

Whenever she saw that faint glow, it seemed to calm her. It made her feel safe, and perhaps to some mild extent, happy.

Thud.

Her head quickly snapped up, and the small flame in her hands promptly died out.

The loud, metallic sound echoed throughout the prison chambers, followed almost immediately by the sound of quick, but heavy footsteps, as though some large, hulking beast had made a mad dash down the corridor... and then stopped.

Right before the door of her cell.

At that moment, she felt her heart skip a beat. Every muscle in her body became tense, and her stomach was twisted into a harsh knot, as she stared in sheer terror at the rusted metal door that served as the only line of defense between her, and whoever was out there on the other side. But it wasn't long before she could make out the jingling of keys. It was here that the truth became apparent. She had hoped that, perhaps, the guard had come to check on somebody in either an adjacent cell, but she could tell that this would not be the case.

Had they caught on to her?

Had she been too quiet for her own good?

Whatever the reason, it no longer mattered.

The young woman clambered to the far corner of the cell, tucking her legs back and wrapping her arms tightly around them. She buried her muzzle between her knees as she heard the guard finally unlock her door.

She clenched her eyes shut.

Description
Drip... drip... drip...

Drops of rainwater streamed down the stone wall on the far side of the cell from a small crack in the ceiling above; the only source of light in an otherwise pitch-black room. Each drop, which only added more moisture to the molded brown streak on the wall, pooled at the bottom of the cell, leaving an ever-growing source of liquid nourishment for it's sole inhabitant.

Curled up on the floor, shrouded amongst the cold, dank shadows of her prison was a young woman; a creature born of both man and beast, covered clad in thick, brown fur. While her face was that of a wild Jackal, her eyes were those of a human; colored a bright, radiant orange, which greatly contrasted her ragged and famished appearance. She was clothed in little more than two withered garments; the first concealing her (somewhat) ample chest, the second wrapped about her lower torso and thighs.

And upon her right arm, the engraved iron gauntlet that was her true prison.

She lay there, nearly motionless for what seemed like days, the only audible sounds being those of the weak drizzle outside, and the occasional scream for help or loud bang from down the corridor. Sometimes the banging would repeat for a few moments, and the screaming would be replaced with quiet, muffled sobbing. Then, the silence would once again linger, only to be broken when the cycle began again.

Not that she payed any mind to it.

At least, not anymore she didn't.

As horrible as it seemed, and was, she had long since become accustomed to the screaming of her fellow prisoners. It wasn't as though she could help them anyway. No one could help them, and no one could help her. Yet, she considered herself fortunate. She had only been beaten two or three times, while many others received punishment upwards of four to five times a day. This was because she chose to remain quiet. She wanted to give those beastly ogres no reason to open her cell. Should she keep her head low, perhaps she could spend the rest of her wretched existence in some degree of peace.

Sleep, however, came no easier to her in this "peace." Though she could sometimes manage to nod off between feedings, (as rare as they were,) she more often layed there, eyes barely open, thinking. Thinking about her family, her past, her present, her future. She couldn't help but do so, as other than occasionally getting up to stretch her fragile, slender frame, there was little way to pass the time. Time which she, among the many others around her, had plenty of.

Slowly, the young woman brought herself up to her knees; her tired bones and aching joints screaming out in pain as she did so. After a moment, she cradled both arms to her bust, palms facing upward. Looking down at them, a small flame sparked in the air above them. It was no larger than that of a candle's, but it's light and warmth was always more than enough to sustain her.

Whenever she saw that faint glow, it seemed to calm her. It made her feel safe, and perhaps to some mild extent, happy.

Thud.

Her head quickly snapped up, and the small flame in her hands promptly died out.

The loud, metallic sound echoed throughout the prison chambers, followed almost immediately by the sound of quick, but heavy footsteps, as though some large, hulking beast had made a mad dash down the corridor... and then stopped.

Right before the door of her cell.

At that moment, she felt her heart skip a beat. Every muscle in her body became tense, and her stomach was twisted into a harsh knot, as she stared in sheer terror at the rusted metal door that served as the only line of defense between her, and whoever was out there on the other side. But it wasn't long before she could make out the jingling of keys. It was here that the truth became apparent. She had hoped that, perhaps, the guard had come to check on somebody in either an adjacent cell, but she could tell that this would not be the case.

Had they caught on to her?

Had she been too quiet for her own good?

Whatever the reason, it no longer mattered.

The young woman clambered to the far corner of the cell, tucking her legs back and wrapping her arms tightly around them. She buried her muzzle between her knees as she heard the guard finally unlock her door.

She clenched her eyes shut.