Previous Challenge Entry (Level 4 – Masters)
Topic: WEAK (07/22/21)
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TITLE: Tortured Lullaby | Previous Challenge Entry
By Samuel Kane
07/29/21 -
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Itching. I can’t stand the itching. For the other tortures have subsided as my torn and beaten body has lost all semblance of constitution, yet the itching, that is eternal. I have not even the strength to lift my arms, let alone shift my manacles, or roll up the frayed sleeves of this rough-spun tunic.
I hear voices in the corridor. It has been nearly three days since the guard last visited. He slides a coarse wooden bowl towards me, just out of my reach. The smell of this brown sludge was once putrid to me, but I no longer have the energy to care.
I raise a tremendous spirit and put my weight upon my crushed and deformed feet. Step by trembling step, I reach towards my meal, trying to claw at it with my toes. Bent over backwards, my knees give way and I crash towards the cold stone floor.
A searing pain assaults my senses. Grasped tightly by the rough iron chains, my arm was wrenched from its socket as I fell. Pools of blood soak through my tunic. The gravelled floor broke open the legion of scabs upon my shredded back; the residue of the thirty-nine lashes.
My eyes begin to droop, but the terrible itching remains.
Oh, that mighty Hades might claim me now and bless me with eternal sleep.
A sweet melody dances through the air and graces my ears. What sort of raving lunatics must these men be to sing at such a time as this. I take a breath to shout them down, but my throat is too dry and my lungs too weak. Well, I suppose that I wasn’t going to get any sleep anyway.
The chorus continues. Then I see a small rock at my feet begin to bounce upon the ground. My ears are greeted by a roaring thunder as the ground beneath me begins to tremble. Even Apollo himself, woken from his slumber, must be telling these madmen to cease their song.
The mighty earthquake continues as cracks break out within the walls. A tremendous crash echoes through the city as my chains come loose and the dungeon collapses around me. I’m bleeding and broken, but I am free!
I weakly lift my head and see the singers for the first time. Two old men sit there calmly. In their eyes I see not terror or hatred, but joy, kindness, and wisdom.
No prison walls contain me, but I cannot seem to move. A mysterious force holds me in place: an odd curiosity and longing to know of the power in their song.
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