SEVENTEEN - CAGED DESTINY

In the dark he awaited, mind and body slowly degenerating.

There were few stimuli, his senses picking up nothing more than cold moist stone and the hard walls of his confines. The hunger and thirst became permanence, his movements and thoughts slowly extinguishing. He was turned a statue, awaiting reawakening, locked away in storage with dust gathering on his skin.

Light.

Empty eyes sensed it but the husk remained immobile. Slowly the consciousness returned to the prisoner. He awoke from his slumber and turned his head away from the approaching torch.

He saw the filthy confines of his cell, the stone glistening with miniscule droplets, and the black rimmed nails of his fingers. He knew who approached, by now the Hurrian had learned to recognize Heabani’s soft footsteps.

He stirred his tired body, slowly moving the limbs that did not want to move. Eyes finally adjusting, he shambled forth. Sjerub awaited the bringer of light with his filth covered hands on the jail bars.

Heabani had soft green paint above his eyes, and this time he wore a black wig of long straight hair.

‘Good day my Hurrian friend.’

The Hurrian stared at the eunuch. Day....

He opened his mouth. ‘How much longer?’

Heabani‘s expression turned to apologetic sadness. ‘My dear, I dont know. Here, water and bread. And even, look what I got you -’ He opened a cloth revealing a spherical orange fruit.

The Hurrian quickly took what Heabani offered, his hunger and thirst overpowering his conscious thoughts. He crawled back to his corner and squatted down with his back to the eunuch to feed himself. He stabbed the fruit with his teeth, devouring it like he was holding raw meat. Sweet juice dripped over his stubbled jaw. The lines of his cheeks were defined by malnourishment. He ate the bread and drank the water, shielding himself with his back from the onlooking Heabani.

When he was done he sprinted back to the bars with sudden ferocity, straining his muscles as he vainly attempted to pull them down.

‘I swore an oath!’ Sjerub roared against the small man, small pieces of moisturized bread flying out of his mouth.

Heabani replied with a thin smile, gently wiping the spittle from his powdered cheeks. ‘You mustn't give up hope, Hurrian. Do not forget your name.’

‘I have no name.’

Heabani said nothing and the Hurrian’s upper lip raised like a snarling dog.

‘How long, how long have I been here?’

‘Over a month.’

The prisoner groaned. ‘One month and I have become the animal.’

Heabani turned, preparing to leave him again.

‘How much longer?’ Sjerub asked, desperation slithering through his vocals.

‘I dont know.’ Heabani replied, his tone harsher now.

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‘Wait.’ The prisoner said. ‘There was something here, something else. I hear it come and go in the dark. I sensed it.’

Heabani halted. ‘Do you know where you are?’ The eunuch shook his head when his eyes lingered too long on the ruined man, then placed the torch in its holder, transferring the responsibility for the prisoner to the snapping flames.

He left, and the comforting light of fire departed soon after. The Hurrian was hurled back in the confined pool of darkness. It was suffocating, grinding away at his mind, slowly, like waves that batter the coast until its once proud cliffside rocks collapse into the sea.

Time accelerated, halted, reversed. He was subject to its flows no longer. The greasy strands of hair on his head lengthened, the filthy nails of his fingers had grown to claws. His body made slow breaths but hé had retreated deeper, somewhere else. At the bottom of the sea he waited, surrounded by black water, slumbering until someone released him from the depths.

‘Soldier of Sin.’ A mocking voice from the dark.

He shook up, his exhausted mind retaking control of his abandoned body. The voice was of a woman, but somehow twisted as if the tones were bent out of shape before reaching his ears. The words were hollow, unnatural and full of joy at his state of being. He quickly recognized it as Eneduanna’s.

A faint light filtered through the bars and into his cell, emanating from a lightsource within the staircase at the end of the hall. Darkness still reigned within the cells, but it had lightened just enough so Sjerub could see the outlining shapes of his hands, feet, and the tight confines of his prison.

Before the bars he discerned a large shape. The lock of his jail turned and the door was flung open with a loud protest of rust; The lock too had been awakened from its slumber.

Sjerub sat with his back against the wall, unmoving. Was this the woman he had dreamed about, obsessed over, the one who filled his ears with warm honeyed words? Radiant she had been. Now there was just a dark figure, and it moved, it lowered. She entered his cell and he felt no love, no desire, it all had been replaced by fearful repulsion.

The cell’s ceiling had already been too low for the Hurrian, and the tall priestess was forced to crawl inside, and she came like a four-legged abomination bearing a human face.

Her long hands clawed forward, her knees slid over the floor. Her mouth was open, a black hole of nothingness. Her eyes were pits without bottom. The outline of her long hair secured the nocturnal head closing in on him.

His mind and body were paralyzed, it wished to flee, but there was no space left to go. The cold stone of the cell pressed in his spine, seemingly pushing him back - back, to the great creature that came for him.

He gritted his teeth, terror turning to anger. He wanted to strike, but although his hands curled into fists, they did not lift.

A touch of skin, her hand feeling its way like the antenna of an insect. It touched again, moving up over his leg.

She brought her full frame into his low-ceiled prison, covering him, her weight pressing against him. She brought her dark frightening face close to his, her nose inhaling to gather his scent. Her breath caressed his face, a myriad of scents and smells - overwhelming for his numbed senses.

His anger broke through his paralyzed mind, flaring up and rapidly spreading through his frozen limbs. Finally he was able to move and he raised his arms with intent. Despite his extended languish, there was still strength in them. But as he reached out he found only soft supple flesh. Warmth emanated into his fingers. How long since he had he felt warmth?

Her hand clutched his mouth, preventing him to speak if the urge would rise. Her lips were cold as she pressed them against his, followed by her long tongue that invaded his mouth.

Now resting fully atop him, she raised her dress and mounted atop him, slowly sliding him in. Powerless as he was, pinned under her wet needy thighs and her elongated body filling his entire cell, he gave up his resistance.

Base animalistic desires filled him. He felt her body, her breasts, felt her curls taunting him were they landed. She rode him in silence until their bodies became slick with sweat. Then came the moans and grunts, echoing through the dark halls of his misery.

It went on until his body ached, though it could not stop moving in her rhythm. Speed increased, the senses lighting up like candles, painful in their intensity. She curled her back as if whipped, hands pressed onto his chest, her nails digging into her skin. She opened up a passageway to an ecstatic realm, every movement of their hips another step on the stairs to reach it.

He joined her in that shining place and she took his seed.

A moment he held onto her tightly, strong sinewy arms clasped around her hot and sweaty elongated body; a short moment of being one with his mistress.

Then his arms lost strength and her slippery body moved past his hold. He let go, utterly collapsing, and he fell. Down from paradise and descending back to the material realm, down into the dark imprisoned earth. She crawled backwards and left him.

The jail slammed shut. He sat in the dark, exhausted and confused. He wished for her return, but he only received darkness and cold stone.