Inej wiped at the bloody cut on her lip. She wouldn't let them touch her like that, even if they killed her. Death was better than this.

Her body ached from the bruises. She slowly rolled over on her dirty mattress to ease the pain in her ribs. Her room was filthy, covered in mud from their boots. There was a leak in the ceiling in one corner that was slowly building a mound of mold, and an unbearable stench in the other from her over-full waste bucket.

The room was cold and dark. During the day there was a small strip of light that came in through the tiny window, but at night time it was pitch black. There was no heat of any kind, just a thin dirty blanket that had probably never been washed. It looked like it had been used by every woman unfortunate enough to have pass. ed through this place.

Inej had been in this room for what seemed like two months, but it was difficult to tell for sure. They came in every day, trying to break her, trying to lure her into submission, and every day she fought them with everything she had. 

Outwardly, they referred to themselves as a (title), a rehabilitation center for wayward women. They told the public that their purpose was to help widows and the like get a new start and find a new calling in life. But everyone knew it was a front. Behind the scenes, in the underground, they were referred to as the Whore Makers. They acquired women through various means, usually ones that were likely to not be missed, conditioned them to be subservient, and then sold them to the r ich and powerful as harem.

Being a Khendalian in the North, Inej was born into slavery. Nearly all Khendalians in those countries were. The disappointments and difficulties of her youth made her hearty and resilient in the face of adversity. 

When her master died, he left his estate to his narcissistic daughter (name). During her first couple of years as Lady of the Estate, the female slaves started to slowly disappear. Inej heard it was because she didn't trust her slimy husband not to have his way with the property. She knew it was just a matter of time before she was sold or killed. After arriving at the (title), Inej found out that all of her fellow slaves had been through here at some point. 

"If I ever get out of here, I'll track her down and wring that scrawny porcelain neck." Inej growled into the darkness. 

Anger was a good motivator in a place like this. It kept her sharp. As long as she fought back against her captors, as long as she held on to that sliver of rage and refused to be broken, she could stay alive. Fully alive, fully herself. Even if they got tired of beating her, tired of the work she put them through, and decided it would be more cost effective to kill her, she would die wholly herself.

Sometimes the beatings were a blessing. When they switched tactics and tried to tempt her in other ways, the pain of the bruises reminded her of her purpose. They would periodically starve the prisoners for days and then bring in pies and desserts, fresh breads, and rich meats. Many of the women here would break, they would grow subservient to their saviors in gratitude for easing the hunger...the human psyche did strange things in such duress. Few held on like Inej though, she used the memory of pain to remind herself of the true nature of her captors. She would find a wound, a bruise or cut, and dig at it while they wafted their feasts in her face. The pain would give her just enough resolve to ignore the hunger until they left.

They rarely let them starve to death, the women were precious commodities. They would always come back within a couple of days to give her some scraps to keep her alive, but weak. For Inej the end seemed inevitable though: she would either hold on until they let her die or she would have to escape.

Inej had never made an attempt, but she had heard others try. She made it a point to take note of their shortcomings and flaws in planning. Most of the women who tried to escape did so without a plan, they simply rushed the guards, blind of the layout of the building or the nature of the patrols. These poor prisoners were usually either frustrated quickly by the guards and their clubs, or frustrated later after making it into the halls and getting lost. Inej never met or seen these women, she only surmised what had happened by hearing the commotion in the halls and listening to the conversations of the guards through the door.

There was one woman they had talked about at length one evening who gave them more trouble than they ever expected. She was apparently a plain, unassuming woman. When they acquired her they never suspected her to be a mystic. She could sing, and used akashic music to bring her bed to life. The animated furniture went on a rampage, protecting her from the guards as she made her way out the front door. She actually escaped, but the (name) caught up with her before she got far and she was murdered.

Since then, security tightened significantly. The guards placed alarms and anti-akasha warding devices all over the property and the surrounding area. Inej had no idea how to do any of that stuff, but even if she had, it wouldn't have made a difference now.

The biggest lesson she learned about the mystic escaping is that the (name) has some very adept trackers. Even if Inej were able to get away, she wouldn't be safe for a very long time. 

It doesn't matter anyway. I don't have any of those kinds of skills. I'm not a mystic, I can't hide a trail...the only thing I'm really good at is taking a beating.

Inej lay there for a long time, contemplating escape. Every plan or scenario she came up with ultimately ended in her re-capture. She just didn't know enough about the building or habits of the guards. The only idea that could possibly work would be if she were to pretend to submit, and then run at the first opportunity. 

I don't think I can act that well. I could never pretend that they're my saviors. I just can't do that. The thought of giving in to them makes my stomach crawl.

In her heart she knew that if she were to pretend to go along with them and start partaking in their luxurious foods and warm baths, it might be too much to bear. The relief might overwhelm her, and she feared that she might think it wasn't so bad after all. Pretending to go along with their heinous plans might make her into exactly what they wanted her to be: submissive.

Inej rolled over again on her dirty mattress. After a few more hours of fruitless contemplation she drifted off into a restless, hopeless sleep. 

*****

Inej awoke abruptly to her door being thrown open and a small loaf of stale bread hitting her in the face like a rock. She blinked the pain away and glared at her attacker. A tall, broad guard with a braided mustache and turned up nose. He was the same one that bloodied her lip the night before. 

"Wakie Wakie, strumpet to be! How did the evenin' treat ya?"

Inej just glared. Oh how much she hated his stupid porcine face.

"What's this? We'll never be able to sell ya if ya carry on lookin at folk like that. No one wants a sour whore! Give us your best smile eh?"

Inej held her glare. 

"Really? You're just one o' those that has a hard time learnin' huh?" 

The large man took a few threatening steps forward. Inej braced herself for what she knew was coming. 

"Well, I'll just have to teach ya!"

The guard slapped her across the face with the back of his left hand and grabbed her wrist with his right, wrenching her onto the floor. She kicked at him and struggled to crawl away, but he was too close and too heavy. He twisted her on to her stomach and knelt on her back, pinning her to the floor. 

She felt his dirty fingers on the side of her head, crawling their way onto her face. They wormed them into her mouth on either side and forced her head back, stretching her face into a gruesome grimace. She tried to bite at them, but the angle was wrong and he was too strong. Inej felt the cut on her lip rip open again and the metallic taste of blood pooling in the bottom of her mouth.

"There ya go," He whispered in her ear, "there's a proper smile for ya. Now that you've learned how to do it, it might be easier for you in the future."

Inej held as still as possible. She knew from this position that he could easily break her neck if he chose to. That might actually be preferable to the humiliation…

There was laughter coming from the door. Inej glanced to the side and could barely see a second guard standing in the doorway. He seemed to be with someone, but she could only see the outline of their shoulder.

"What a pretty smile!"

"Hey (name)! Whatcha got there?" The massive guard let go of Inej and pushed her face into the dirty floor as he stood up. She immediately rolled over, crawled as fast as she could to the other side of the room, and crouched behind her bed frame. From here she could see that the second person was a woman.

"Oh, just a little new talent." The guard put his arm around the woman, a girl really, and pulled her tight against him. She was small and frail looking. Her hair was dirtied with dust, Inej imagined that it was usually a vibrant blonde color. The poor thing looked terrified.

"What did you bring her over here for?" The big guard asked, seemingly annoyed at being interrupted. "This rooms already taken."

"Oh I know" the second guard said with a wink, "but I have my orders. See, we're a little over-full at the moment and I've been told that this little one is to be sharing a room with our resident firecracker." 

He gave Inej a nod. She responded by spitting on the floor. 

"Haha! I'd expect nothing less from you! You know, you're getting quite the reputation as a difficult...resident."

Inej said nothing.

"Wait a minute, why did the boss choose this one?" The big guard asked, apparently flustered at the change of circumstances.

Of course you'd want to know, you perverted pustule. What? Is it too scary to beat on two unarmed women at the same time?

"I don't know. Maybe the boss thought having a second girl in here might help this one calm down a bit. Either way (name), both of us have other duties to attend to at the moment."

The second guard nudged the small blonde woman into the room and gestured to (name). He hesitated for a moment, staring at Inej like a dog stares at a cut of meat. She glared back, refusing to break eye contact.

"(Name)"

The big man growled and turned away. Stomping after his smaller companion and slamming the door behind him as he left.

The blonde girl stood where the guard left her, clutching her arms tightly around herself. She stared at the bottom corner of the wall, eyes out of focus.

Poor thing.

Inej tapped her finger against the side of her leg. She wasn't really sure what to do in this situation. It had been months since she had seen another person. Making conversation had been the last thing on her mind for a very long time.

"Um...what's your name?"

She blinked out of her reverie.

"I'm...Daliah"

"Hi Daliah, my name is Inej. Do you know where you are?"

Inej began to approach her slowly, she didn't want to scare her. Based on the conversations Inej had heard over the weeks, a lot of the girls brought to (name) weren't always right in the head. And other girls needed to be drugged in order to be compliant during their capture. In either case, this situation could be dangerous if not handled delicately.

"No...I don't. Is this some kind of jail? Am I in trouble?"

Inej slowly put her arm around Daliah and guided her to sit on the edge of the bed.

"I'm sorry, this dirty thing is the only furniture I...we have. No, you're not in jail. But you are in trouble, we all are."

Daliah's brow furrowed in contemplation. She seemed normal enough and she didn't seem drugged.

"This place is a...I don't know how to say it. They break women. They force us into...servitude."

Daliah nodded. "Slaves."

"Yeah, slaves." That was a good enough description for now. The poor girl had been through enough, she didn't need to know everything just yet.

"Are you broken?" Daliah asked, she was looking at Inej now. Her eyes were crystal blue, and large for her face.

"No. And I never will be." Inej responded. 

The two sat together for a while in silence, until Inej began to feel restless. She crossed the room to get the loaf that bruised her cheek earlier. She ate half of the hard bread and offered the rest to Daliah, but she refused. 

"You'll have to eat eventually, and it doesn't get much better than this."

"I know," Daliah said, picking at the seam on the blanket she was sitting on. "I just don't think I can right now. I feel sick."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It goes away after a while."

"Really? How long did it take for you?"

"It took me about a week. I don't know if that's normal or not." Inej bit into the second half of the loaf, if Daliah wasn't going to eat it then she wouldn't hesitate finishing it off. Food came too scarcely.

"How long have you been here?" Daliah asked, still picking at the blanket.

"I don't know" Inej said in between bites, "all the days blend together. Months maybe."

Daliah sniffed and Inej looked away from her meager meal to give her more attention. She could see the streaks in the dirt the tears left behind on her pretty face. Inej set the rest of the bread down on the stained mattress and sat next to Daliah again, taking up her hand.

"Look, I don't want to be harsh, but there are only two ways out of here. You either accept your lot and join the ranks of these concubine slaves, or you be like me. Stubbornly fight and suffer until you die in this place."

Daliah began to sob. Inej had never been the nurturing type, but she put her arm around Daliah's shoulders anyway.

"I'm not trying to be harsh with you, but that's just the way it is. For me to coddle you and tell you everything is going to be okay would be a lie. This place is horrific and you need to be prepared for that."

This content has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Daliah wrapped her arms around Inej and sobbed into her shoulder. Inej let her stay there until she grew tired and the sobbing slowed. She laid Daliah on the mattress and covered her with the dirty blanket.

"Rest now while you can. Tomorrow will be the first day of the worst things you've ever seen."

*****

Everything was spinning. Inej blinked away the pain and regained her focus. She lay awkward, arched back with her face against the cold stone. Her hands were shackled behind her back and chained to her shackled feet. She couldn't move, and a deep cramp was forming in her left ribs and through her back.

"Don't touch her!" Daliah screamed and pounded her fists against the mustachioed guard's massive chest. She was comically small compared to him. 

Inej remembered he had come bursting into the room that evening with a bucket of water. After throwing half of it on Daliah, Inej had attacked him. She didn't remember the blow that knocked her out, but she could feel the lump forming on the side of her head.

"I'll touch whoever I want whenever I want, and there ain't a blasted thing you can do about it!" He emphasized the statement with a headbutt to the small woman that sent her sprawling into the mattress. 

"And you" He turned back to Inej, "the next time I get any lip from you I'll do a lot more than beat ya!'" He kicked her in the side and she felt a rib crack, but did her best not to cry out. 

"I'm gonna go and clean myself up now," He picked up the empty bucket, half of the water spilled on himself during the assault, "and I'm going to leave you like this until I get back. While I'm gone I want both of you to think about your lot in life and what you might be able to do to change it."

With that he slammed the door again and stomped off.

Breathing was difficult in this position, and talking was excruciating, but Inej was able to push through the pain to call out to Daliah. 

"Daliah, are you okay?" She couldn't see her on the other side of the bed.

There was a stir and Daliah stood up, a cut over one eye that was beginning to swell closed.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

She made her way over to Inej.

"Is there any way that I can help you? I don't have a key or anything…"

"No, I just have to endure it. He'll be back soon. He won't kill you, I promise."

Daliah glanced at the door in fear.

"Seriously Daliah, you can handle a lot more than you think you can.

*****

For several weeks the two women were repeatedly beaten by their captors, but they found solace in each other. They developed a deep bond with one another supporting each other through their trauma. Inej could feel herself growing weaker in her love and concern for her new friend. She often found it more painful when the guards would beat and torture Daliah that when they would torture her.

This is what they want. This is exactly what they want. They want us to bond and then they'll use that bond to manipulate us.

Inej knew she was right, she knew she was falling into their trap, but she couldn't help it. Having someone to finally lean on and talk to was too much of a temptation for a broken and beaten soul.

When they were alone they would talk, there was nothing else to do. They would talk about everything and nothing. It was so freeing to talk with someone again, Inej felt human for the first time since she was taken here.

"Why is your skin like that?" Daliah asked one day. She kept up her habit of picking at the seam on the blanket, now many of the threads were loose and starting to fray.

"I'm a Khendalian, obviously."

"Oh! I didn't know!"

"What? Did you think I was diseased, like some kind of leper?"

"Well," Daliah said in embarrassment, "sort of. I didn't think that Khendalians had skin like that. I thought they mostly has great clumps of hair, like a mangy dog…"

"Ha! No, most do, but some of us have scaly patches, like me, and others still might even have small feathers here and there."

"Fascinating. I wonder what causes that?"

"I don't know. I've never been to any kind of school before. I've never been taught anything about history or where people come from." Inej sat down and began to draw crude pictures in the dirt.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you. I don't know anything about slave life at all."

"That's okay. I don't regret anything. Slave life is worse than what I imagine most people have, but much much better that this." Inej said with a grimace, looking around the room, her gaze lingering on the bucket in the corner.

"Inej," Daliah started, cautiously, "How did you end up here, if you don't mind my asking?"

"I don't mind at all. My master, who was a gentle old coot, died and left everything to his nasty daughter, including me. She didn't want me around, so she sent me here."

"So, you were sold to them then?"

"Yes. Does that matter?"

"If you were sold as a slave, doesn't that mean they can legally do all of this stuff to you?"

Inej didn't answer.

"Aren't they allowed to ask you to do anything and you are bound to obey them?"

Inej remained quiet still.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to upset you. I was just curious as to why you fight them so hard. There are many women here, like me, that were kidnapped. I think it's actually rare for them to obtain us legally, it's much more expensive."

Silence hung between them for a while. Inej spoke eventually, staring at the picture she drew on the floor while she talked.

"I'm not that kind of slave. I never will be. There are many things that I'll do for a master, but I will never do that. If it means death, then so be it. In fact, the only hope I cling to is if I fight enough, maybe one day one of them will hit me too hard or just right and I'll stay down for good."

Daliah walked over to Inej and embraced her in a warm hug.

"I can't begin to imagine what your life must have been like."

Inej didn't know how to react. In all her years as a slave, not once had anyone showed her affection in such a way. She usually loathed being touched, but this was different. She lay her cheek on Daliah's shoulder and patted her on the back.

"Thank you."

Daliah let go and sat down next to her on the bed.

"What's your family like?" She asked.

"I don't have any, at least not any that I know of. What about you?"

"I have a brother" Said Daliah, "He's in the military though. I haven't seen him in three years."

"I'm sorry." Inej didn't have anything else to say, she had never missed someone before.

"It's okay, I know I'll see him again."

Inej's natural reaction was to scoff, but she held it back. 

"Look, I don't want to bring you down or anything, but there are only two ways out of here."

"Maybe. But I choose to believe in a better future, regardless of the situation we're in now." Daliah picked at the seam on the blanket again.

Hope like that won't last long in here. That's the kind of thing that breaks you quickly.

Inej watched Daliah pick at the blanket for a while. It was a weird tick, but there wasn't anything else to do to occupy her mind.

A thread came free, and Dalia gingerly pulled it away from the blanket.

"Got it!"

"Congratulations." Inej said flatly.

"Inej" Daliah began, staring at the thread, "Can I tell you a secret?"

"Sure."

Daliah slowly looked up at Inej. Her eyes, instead of being those massive crystal blue orbs, were pale gold and glowing faintly.

"You're a scion…"  

"Yeah."

"How long have you known?" Inej sat up attentively, she had never met a scion before. This had to be the most interesting thing to happen to her since she got stuck in this place.

"A couple of years, it started manifesting not long after my brother left with the military." Daliah twisted the thread between her fingers.

"Do you know what your lineage is?" Inej struggled to hold back the excitement in her voice. She didn't know anything about scions, but she knew there were several different ancestors that they came from and that they had different powers based on those lineages. Visions flashed through her mind of Daliah blasting flaming holes in the wall and the fat mustachioed guard grovelling for mercy.

"I think it's Iolar, but I don't know enough about scions to know for sure."

"Well, what kinds of things can you do? Can you break through the walls and get us out of here?"

"Haha, no. It's not like that…It's more emotional I guess. I can help people feel things." 

"Oh." Inej deflated a bit. "Why did you wait until now to tell me?"

"Well…" Daliah twisted the thread between her fingers. "I didn't want the guards to know, and at first I didn't know you or if I could trust you."

Inej nodded. She understood that feeling really well.

"But I do now. You've helped me and protected me. You've been kind to me. Thank you."

Inej felt warm and didn't respond, she wasn't used to such complements.

The glow in Daliah's eyes intensified slightly as she concentrated on the thread in her fingers. The thread began to glow the same color as her eyes, the color slowly intensified and then subsided, leaving the thread looking the same as it had before.

"It's a gift." Daliah offered the thread to Inej. 

Inej stared for a moment, dumbfounded and unsure of what she just saw.

"Oh…okay, thank you…"

Inej reached to accept the gift. However the moment the thread touched her hand, she was no longer sitting on the bed in the cold and dirty room. Wind rushed through her hair as she fell forward. She was outside, trees rushed past in blurs.

At first, Inej was alarmed and confused, but the feeling was immediately overcome by elation. She began to fall backwards, her hair rushing past her face. It was yellow, which seemed strange to Inej, but she couldn't remember why. As she fell back she looked over her shoulder to see her big brother standing, waiting to catch her. He did, and pushed her forward again. She was on a swing tied to a tree limb. 

"Higher! Higher!" Inej giggled. She laughed in glee with the voice of a child. Her big brother obliged and pushed her harder than ever before. She felt like she was flying, she reached out her hand, just about to touch the sky. In her heart she wished this moment would last forever. 

Abruptly, Inej was back in her musty cell holding a now-dull thread and staring at Daliah, a wide smile on her face.

"What…was that?" Inej struggled to catch her breath.

Daliah's smile broadened. "A memory, one of my favorites!"

"Is this what you meant? About feeling things?"

"Yeah! I can infuse my memories in small things and share them. I wanted you to feel happy, if just for a small moment. You've made my life here bearable, thank you."

"I…um, you're welcome." Inej was taken aback by such an intimate gesture. Not only had recent weeks in this prison been utter hell, but Inej's life as a slave had never allowed her to experience such emotions. The carefree games of a child, the deep affection between siblings. Daliah couldn't know how much it meant to her.

They sat in silence for a while as Inej reveled in her friend's memory, feeling content and peaceful for what seemed like the first time in her life. That ended abruptly when Inej jumped to her feet, a thought striking her like a bolt of lightning.

"Daliah!"

Daliah started. "What! Is everything okay?"

"Yes!" Inej began to pace in excitement. "I have an idea, when those guards brought you here, were you blind folded?"

"No, I don't think they saw me as much of a threat…why?"

"And this memory transfer thing you can do, how long can the memories be?" Inej began to bounce on the balls of her feet.

"Usually no more than a few seconds, maybe fifteen or so…" A look of understanding began to spread across Daliah's face.

Inej smiled. "I think I know of a way we can get out of here."

She sat back down on the bed and took up one end of the blanket.

"We're going to need more threads."

*****

The two women sat cross-legged next to each other on the floor. A neat row of threads, each roughly the same size, splayed out in front of them. The group of threads in front of Inej were all dull, while the ones in front of Daliah each glowed faintly golden.

"Alright, I think I have the layout memorized from our room to the exit. How much time do you think we have?"

Daliah bit her lip, examining the strip of light on the floor. They had made markings in the dirt to measure the passage of time.

"Less than an hour."

"That's plenty of time."

Daliah carefully gathered up the remaining threads while Inej busied herself rolling what was left of the bed sheet into a makeshift rope. When she was finished Inej went to the refuse bucket. Face scrunched up in disgust, she emptied its contents onto the floor in the corner and placed the bucket next to the door.

Daliah struggled not to gag on the smell.

'What's left?" She asked, her voice muffled by her hand covering her mouth.

"Nothing. We just have to wait."

Inej got into position, laying on the bed in clear view of the door. And Daliah crouched next to the door where she would be obscured from sight when it swung open.

"Inej?" Daliah said, an obvious quiver in her voice.

"Yeah?"

"Is this going to work? Are we going to be okay?"

Inej wanted to say that it didn't matter if it worked or not, that she would rather die trying to escape than spend another night in this filthy hole. But that wasn't completely true. The last few hours of preparation were the first time in months that Inej felt human. Planning the escape gave her a taste of something that she had lost long ago and had long since resigned she would never have again: hope. The truth now was that she longed to be free, truly free for the first time in her life. 

"Yes, Daliah. We're getting out of here tonight."

The minutes passed like hours as the two waited for their moment. After the longest time, Daliah perked up and gestured to Inej. A few moments later Inej could also hear the footsteps faintly falling in the corridor. A key clicked in the lock and the door swung open.

"I got yer dinner…what's that blasted awful stench!"

The guard tossed the plate of bread into the middle of the room and stepped towards the waste corner.

"What's wrong with you crazy whores! Why would you do such a nasty–"

The guard's exclamation of disgust was cut off abruptly by the door slamming shut behind him. Before he could turn around, Daliah slapped him, pressing one of her glowing threads against the back of his head. Immediately the man went limp, eyes glazed and slack jawed. He was still standing, but utterly unresponsive. 

Inej sprang into action, leaping from the bed and rushing across the room.

Fifteen seconds.

She scooped up the bread from the floor as she ran past and stuffed the small loaf into his mouth. She then wrapped her makeshift rope around his face and tied it tight behind his head, forcing the bread nearly down his throat. Inej pulled the guard's hands behind his back and tried to use the remaining length of the rope to secure his hands, but he started to struggle. He was much stronger than her.

"Daliah, hit him again!"

Daliah slapped him across the face and he went still, eyes glazed once more. Inej finished tying his hands and then busied herself undoing his belt. By the time the women were finished, the guard lay face down with his pants around his knees, ankles secured to wrists behind his back with his own belt, and the human waste bucket over his head.

"Do you think he can get out?" Daliah asked. She was panting heavily from the encounter.

"Maybe" Inej said, removing the guard's club from the strap on his belt, "but hopefully we'll be long gone before that happens."

"How many of your threads do we have left?"

"Seven."

"Okay," Inej took a deep breath to steady herself, "we can do this."

With that, they opened the cell door a crack and peered into the corridor. The walls and floor were bare stone, primitive sconces lined the walls at intervals in both directions, lighting the hall with flickering fire. Between each set of sconces on either side of the corridor were doors similar to theirs. The area was seemingly deserted.

"It looks like we're clear." Daliah said hopefully.

"That's assuming one of these rooms doesn't have a guard in it enjoying himself," Inej spat "let's be quick."

The companions entered the hall, taking care to lock their prisoned guard in the cell behind them. They moved swiftly down the corridor with practiced steps, knowing exactly where to turn to navigate the maze-like halls. Their hours spent pouring over Daliah's memories had paid off.

"Three hundred thirty four…three hundred thirty five…three hundred thirty six…"

Inej counted her steps, keeping track of their position.

"Be ready, we're nearing the guard barracks. We're more likely to run into someone up here."

Almost on cue, a young guard rounded the corner. He stopped in surprise and pointed at them with his empty food tray.

"Hey! Hey, you're not supposed to be–

Daliah rushed forward and slapped him across the face, one of her threads in the palm of her hand. The guard abruptly stopped talking and a dumb, placid look spread across his face as his eyes glazed over.

"Good job!" Inej stepped forward, getting a purchase on her club with two hands. And with as much strength as she could muster she brought the stolen weapon down on the top of his head with a loud crack. His eyes crossed momentarily, and he collapsed into a limp pile.

"Is he…dead?"

"I don't care." Inej stepped over the guard and peeked around the corner. The corridor extended for another thirty yards and ended with a staircase leading up to a set of double doors.

"We're clear, for now. But we'll be exposed if anyone comes down that hall. The kitchen and barracks are on the other side of those doors, and then the exit."

Inej examined the guard at their feet and his empty food tray.

"They must still be serving breakfast to the prisoners…there'll be a lot more guards coming through those doors…" 

"What can we do?" Daliah's voice quivered slightly as she looked around the corner in worry.

Inej thought for a moment. They might have been able to plan their escape by studying the layout of the building, but there was no way they could have understood the habits and routines of the guards. This was a risky plan, for sure, but it was all they had. The only way out was through those doors.

"Daliah," Inej looked from her friend, to the doors at the top of the stairs, and back again. "Are you okay dying here?"

It was Daliah's turn to think for a moment. After a few seconds, her face hardened into a steely expression and she nodded. 

"Yes. If that's what it takes."

They crept along the wall as quickly and quietly as they could. As they approached the doors at the top of the stairs, they could hear the loud clanking of workers in the kitchen. Inej cracked the door open as slightly as possible, while still being able to see into the room.

Three large men were busily pounding bread dough on a countertop. Based on Daliah's memories, the door to the lobby should be on the opposite side of the room, and the door to the barracks should be on the right. The cook's backs were to the double doors, so Inej pushed the door open a bit more to get a better look at the room.

The door to the guard's barracks was indeed on the right wall, and for the moment there were no other people in the room. The cooks seemed too engrossed in their work to be paying too much attention, but if anyone were to come through the barracks door their escape would be abruptly ended.

With a gesture for Daliah to follow, Inej pushed the door open further and crept inside. Staying low and close to the wall, she led the way toward the barracks door. As the two women passed by, Inej picked up the stopper and carefully wedged it into the shut door. If someone really wanted to come through they could, but at least this would buy them a few moments. They then crossed the walkway back to the center of the room, taking special care to keep the kitchen island between them and the burly cooks.

They found the door unlocked, and Inej breathed a silent sigh of relief. The second they were on the other side of the door, standing in an empty hall, they took a moment to catch their breath.

"I don't think my heart has ever beat that fast." Inej whispered, leaning against the wall.

"Me neither." Said Daliah, she was pale and wiping sweat from her eyes with the back of her hand. In it she held a small paring knife.

"You swipe that?" Inej whispered. 

Daliah nodded.

"Good job. The lobby is on the other side of those doors, then the exit. You'll have to take the lead on this one to get past the receptionist and the guard."

Daliah nodded again.

Inej closed her eyes and tried to imagine the layout of the lobby. There should be a woman seated at a long desk on the left, and a series of couches and chairs to the right. There could be any number of women there seeking refuge from various threats. A guard will be posted in front of the exit "to protect the poor victims from their abusers that might follow them", but in reality he was there expressly to prevent people like Inej and Daliah from escaping.

"The only way I can see this working is for us to rush in, have you immobilize the guard, and run through the front doors as quickly as possible."

Daliah thought for a moment.

"You're right," she whispered back, "there's no way we can get through there without being seen. We'll have to run."

The two women took deep breaths, readying themselves for what would be their greatest trial yet. They pushed the doors apart and rushed into the room, and immediately their hearts dropped.

The seating area was empty. Evidently the business hadn't opened for the day yet. And the receptionist wasn't at the desk, but in front of the main exit talking with not one, but two guards. The larger of the two turned to look at the intruders and a sneer spread across his porcine face, twisting his greasy mustache around his mouth.

Inej felt sick.

"Hey! It looks like you two're lost, yer rooms are back down the other way." He spat on the floor and punched his companion in the shoulder with a laugh.

"Didn't I tell you that puttin' these two together was a bad idea? I told ya, I'm always right!" He gestured for the other guard to follow him, and the two began walking towards Inej and Daliah.

"Let's put you two back where ya belong, okay?"

Rage boiled inside Inej. She couldn't let herself get this far only to get captured again, especially by this filthy man. All of the pain and depravity of the past months spilled out of her in a scream as she launched herself at the guard, swinging wildly with her stolen club. The first blow missed widely, but the second landed hard on his thigh. He grunted in pain, snatched the club away with one hand, punched her square in the jaw with his other.

"Blasted whore!" He landed a hard kick in her ribs. "Grab the other one!, I'm done playing these stupid games." He yelled, and climbed on top of inej. 

The other guard obeyed and went after Daliah. She tried to slap him with one of her threads, but he caught her wrist. The guard spun her around, and she cut him with the paring knife. The wound, however, was too shallow to debilitate him and he was able to get his arms around her from behind. Picking her up off the ground, and pinning her arms to her sides.

"You think yer a tough woman?

He pounded Inej in the side of her head over and over again. She swooned as her vision went blurry. Inej clung to consciousness with everything she had, but felt it slowly slipping away. The weight of the massive, putrid man on top of her felt as though it would crush her lungs. She struggled to catch a breath. she tried to punch, claw, anything, but he quickly pinned her arms to the floor.

“You’ve been givin’ me trouble for months” he snarled, inches from her face “yer the kind of woman that needs to be tamed…forcefully. That’s the only way women like you learn. Lucky for you, I’mma good teacher.” 

The guard licked the side of her face, his rancid breath burning Inej’s nostrils. She couldn’t move, she could barely breathe, she never felt so helpless. Inej looked at Daliah, entangled with the other guard. He had his arms around her, pinning hers to her sides, hugging her from behind. Tears streamed down her face as she was forced to watch Inej being beaten. Their eyes met for a moment and Inej mouthed the words to Daliah.

“I’m sorry.”

Daliah erupted in an inhuman wail unlike anything inej had ever heard before. The sound was long and haunting, chilling her to the bone. Daliah’s eyes began to glow with that same golden light that Inej had seen before, only this time it was much brighter. The guard that held her simply let her go, and when she stepped away Inej could see that his eyes were glowing as well. Daliah touched him on the shoulder and he lifted the small paring knife he had taken from her and plunged it into his own throat. He collapsed to the floor in a gurgling pile. Daliah then started walking toward Inej and the porcine guard.  

He abruptly stood up and squared towards Daliah.

 “What in the bloody mothe…” he began, but soon trailed off as his eyes too began to glow. Daliah reached up and grabbed him by the face and now it was his turn to scream. The big man howled like a wounded child as his body convulsed and contorted every which way. He crumpled to his knees and Daliah gently laid him down on the hard floor, like a mother placing her babe in a cradle. When she finally let go, he became abruptly quiet, the glow fading from his eyes and a puddle slowly growing from his trousers.

“What was that?” Inej asked, shocked by the display.

“I…made him see things. I made him experience all of the pain that he inflicted on so many women over the years. The rape and trauma…I gave it back to him.” Daliah stared blankly for a moment and then blinked. “I saw it too, Inej he was a really bad man.”

“I know.” Inej stood and placed her arm around Daliah. “Is he alive?”

“Yes, but I think his mind is gone. I doubt he’ll ever speak or think again.”

“Good,” Inej nealt down and spit in his drooling face “the world’s a better place without his vile thoughts. Did you see what happened to the receptionist?”

“I think she ran.” Daliah gestured to the front door, still open. It was starting to rain outside.

Inej took Daliah by the hand, their hope becoming a reality.

“We should too.” 

*****

They ran for what seemed like hours. Their bare feet torn and bleeding from the hard ground. Inej thought it would be best to get off the road, in case their captors pursued them long. The drizzle had developed into a cold rain by the time the two women reached a small clearing where they stopped to catch their breath.

Inej smiled at Daliah 

"We did it, we won."

Soaked and chilled to the bone, the two women embraced, tears of joy indiscernible from the icy rain streaking their faces, washing away weeks of filth and neglect. 

They were free.