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In the darkness…

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the scraping of putrid teeth against her fragile ankles peels away a few layers of skin, drawing up blood from within the broken girl that is Eliza. The darkness surrounds her. It devours her. A shaky breath, air freeing itself from her body into the heavy air that surrounded her. Her hands are bound. The burn of the rope on her wrists as she tries to shoo the rats away confirms this. She is sweating. Tiny droplets of the liquid trailed down her face, down her arms, down her legs. A small puddle of it on the floor. Her breaths are hard. Deep. Trying to cease the air from this stuffy place… Steal it back from the indiscriminate, all consuming darkness…she slumped back against the wall. Struggling to stand with her bound legs. It’s too hot to cry. To yell. To scream. So she sat there. Slumped back against the wall. The feeble body of the five year old nord little more than a sweaty mass of flesh against the walls… What were they made of… Where had he taken her.

She just wanted her mama…. The man had come quite suddenly. Kicking the doors to the Inn.. And no more than ten minutes later..  She was forcibly being carried away on his shoulder, screaming for her life…. Now she was here…. At the mercy of the Irish man… 


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