Bound Evil

Wood slammed against wood as the door to Emily’s cell slammed shut, bouncing once before what sounded like a bar sliding into place. Having been pushed into the tiny room she scrambled to avoid falling, only to catch herself against the opposite wall. Emily cursed under her breath, once more she mentally promised to find Ron after all of this was over.

Just when Emily had thought she was going to get to see inside the imposing structure, the boss had Ron escort her to the ‘holding pens,’ as he called it, taking her around the side of the main structure to a collection of smaller buildings.

Ron had followed the order but had been none too gentle about it. Gripping her by the back of the cloak and then her hair when she hadn’t moved fast enough for his liking. Emily hadn't said a word but he must have glimpsed the fight in her eyes because Ron only got rougher from there

Fighting right then would not have been a smart move, but she was beginning to tire of the innocent maiden act.

Righting herself in her cell, Emily dusted her cloak off as she listened to the retreating footsteps. At least he’d untied her hands before pushing her in here, though why she wasn't sure.

Emily took stock of her surroundings and honestly, she’d had seen port-a-potties bigger than her current cell, hell a broom closet would have been an upgrade, but at least it was sheltered from the wind and snow.

A rectangular slot in the door along with four golfball-sized holes near the top of the room let in fresh air, so she wouldn’t suffocate.

Hay and dirt lined the wooden floor along with what looked like animal droppings in the corner. All in all, Emily hated it, but then that was probably the idea.

Dawdling when her life was on the line was not her strong suit, so Emily pressed her eyes to the small slot in the door to see if she could get a better look at her situation.

From here, she could see a couple of other cells equally as inviting as her own, and by the looks of it they were occupied.

She had not managed to see much of the room when they’d entered but by the looks of things, it was circular like the rest of the structures.

From this vantage point, she could just about see the door she had come through, at a glance there didn’t seem to be another way out.

In her search of the room she heard several sets of breathing, but one stood out amongst the rest as a gentle snoring. This one was calm and didn’t sound muffled by one of the cell doors, so they must be outside them.

Craning her neck Emily tried to make out the source but it was out of sight of her little window. She didn’t have to wait long though, because the breathing suddenly caught in their throat as they woke up.

Emily heard the sound of a chair creaking as a body lifted itself from it and began to walk forward.

A tall woman with short raven hair came into sight. Muscles and scars littered her body and Emily couldn’t help but think of a powerful Norse woman. She even had the glare down, though her voice was quite measured as her eyes turned to stare directly at Emily.

“Well, I don’t recognize you, looks like they forgot to wake me, again. Honestly, these idiots better stop testing my skills or I’ma crack their skulls together. Looks like you are in luck number fifteen, you got here just in time for a hearty meal.”

Emily certainly didn’t expect the almost welcoming reception, but when she saw a radiant smile break out over the woman's face, Emily felt chills travel down her spine.

The woman then disappeared from her view, and Emily heard what sounded like barrels being moved. Then the woman asked a question to one of the other captives.

“Hey number one, how's the leg? Is the bandage helping?? Oh, as a formality. Are you going to hurt me if I try and give you this?”

The strange thing was that no one sounded angry at their situation. Sad, sure, maybe resigned, but never angry.

Like this, she worked her way around the room until she got near to Emily again. Number fourteen sounded like a scared young man. Emily tried to recognize his voice from the memory but nothing came to her, to be sure she’d need to catch a glimpse of his face. He sounded like he was a couple of doors down.

When the woman got to her door the smile was still plastered on her face.

“Okay, nice to meet you number fifteen, I’ll keep it short cause you looked terrified. My job is to keep you here, fight me and this will be the most unpleasant stay of your life. But if we work together just for this week, you will be in good hands.”

Emily stared at the woman with curiosity. She was trying a soft approach and if their stay here was as long as she’d heard, it was the best way to keep captives mollified over months. So she nodded and tried to look the part.

“Alright, I’m going to give you water now, are you going to hurt me if I do?” the woman asked in the same tone as all the others.

Emily didn’t understand what was the point of asking but it had to mean something. So she tried shaking her head.

A ladle of water was already on the way to the gap in the door when she paused and narrowed her eyes at Emily.

“Are you really lying to a titled Jailer, in her own prison?”

Emily frowned as the woman let the ladle slop back into the bucket.

“Hah, do you know what my title just told me? If I even put my hand in there I’d lose it. Right, no water for you.”

Emily hadn’t intended to attack but if the opportunity had arisen she would have taken it. Perhaps that was the key, intent? Her chance to test the theory out came sooner than she expected as the woman leaned up against the door, she didn’t look mad just a little concerned.

“Look, I’m not your enemy fifteen, they’re outside, but in here you’re safe. So let's try this again. If I give you this loaf, are you going to hurt me?”

Emily glanced at the food and then the woman once more.

Making the conscious decision not to attack, Emily once more shook her head.

The Jailer paused and then smiled as she extended her hand out with what looked like a hard flatbread.

Being careful Emily took it and the jailer relinquished it without a fuss, smiling as she did so. Again, causing the hairs on Emily’s neck to rise. The smile seemed genuine, but also wrong, it made for a strange mix of emotions in Emily.

The Jailer moved away from the window and Emily didn’t stop her. She could have asked a bunch of questions but she doubted she’d get a useful answer.

Once more Emily reassessed her situation, illusionists aside, that woman was a problem. Somehow she knew what Emily was going to do before she did. Which was more than just some truth-telling power. Sometimes one could get around those by using non-verbal queues, but this one had no gaps.

To top it off she didn’t use the threats of violence on her prisoners. Instead, she worked on them to make them compliant. She was a professional.

The only thing stopping Emily from retreating, and coming at this from another angle was the itching at the back of her neck. Emily couldn’t leave until she confirmed if this guy was here or not.

It was around this time that the room fell quiet again. Emily slid down against the wall, taking a moment to think things through and devise a plan. A couple of hours later, as darkness had long since blanketed the sky, she decided it was time to act.

During her earlier search of the cell, Emily had found only a small hole nibbled into the side of the wooden wall. She had the door in sight and began eating the flatbread she’d been given. The bread was as hard as a brick and tasted equally unappetizing. She had to snap off pieces and suck on them until they softened enough to chew. As she reached the last piece, she bit into the corner of her mouth, allowing her blood to mix with the saliva

Soaking the bread, she put it down by the little opening she’d found earlier and waited.

Careful not to lower her guard Emily did not let sleep take her, instead she watched the moonlight shift through her cell, drawing four dots across the walls marking time.

It had to be the early hours of the morning by the time she heard it.

Tiny scratch marks that even normal ears could pick up in the absolute silence.

Turning her eye towards the corner, Emily saw her mark already gnawing at the bait.

The little creature resembled a field mouse, with a couple of exceptions. Its fur was a midnight black and it had whisker-like protrusions on its head resembling an antena. They were more like whiskers that twitched on the breeze, but that was the first thing that came to Emily’s mind.

The next was how cute the little darling was. Its little snoot twitched in the air as though sniffing for danger, while its long whiskers wiggled through the air.

The little thing must have noticed her gaze because it looked ready to run with its prize. Unfortunately, now that it had eaten its fill, it had work to do; it couldn’t escape. With a silent beckoning of her index finger, the little creature sat up straighter and then scampered towards her. Dropping her hand to the ground, the little thing clamored into it. Its tiny warmth brought a smile to Emily’s face. The technique she was about to use came with an incredibly high cost to her, but if she limited it to just a minute, she might get the answer she needed. So, sheering off a piece of power from her dwindling reserves, she sent it to the small creature, her blood acting as the medium. Overpowering its mind was impossible, but tying their sights together was doable. Moving her hand toward the opening, she watched a giant version of herself lowering her body toward the hole in the wall. When the mouse scampered off, Emily closed her main body's eyes and simply went along for the ride. The little creature viewed the world in scales of grey, movement lit up in its vision and made for a powerful pre-warning system. As the little thing crawled through the neighboring room, it spotted nothing it could eat and so rushed to the next one over. When it entered the occupied chamber, its sight homed in on a young man pressed up into the corner of the room with his arms wrapped tightly around himself. The sound of the little creature must have drawn his attention because his head shot up and stared in her direction. His body briefly lit up in the dark, tears streaming down his cheeks along with familiar blonde hair.

Emily’s body smiled as she opened her eyes, flush with crimson light.

"Found you."