Shackles Of The Past

Chapter 22- Strange feelings

… you don't pick them;

they pick you.

~Unknown.

***

“Medusa, wake up.”

The first sound that reached her ears in her half unconscious state was a distant voice. Her lids fluttered in an attempt to adjust her sight, but she could only blink into darkness.

Warm breeze brushed her face, the engulfing smell of the atmosphere invaded her nostrils, and the physical touch struck her with the realization she was still alive.

She heard voices, the night birds chirping, the sounds, whispers and murmurings' from different angles hovering around. It had stopped. It's all over.

The memory had been the strangest yet. She had moved into a dark world that trapped her inner soul, the master. The strange man with emerald eyes, she had remembered, staring into her empty entity.

A soul lurked into nothingness. His presence that graced darkness, and lured her body into a dark memory. A world without hope. Much quiet yet strange atmosphere. That world with words that emits a troubling sensation which crept her skin.

“Medusa,” Her eyes eventually opened. Her sight was blurry. She blinked slowly, once, twice, attempting to raise the heavy lids that hindered her clear vision.

After the fifth time of fruitless trials, she could see Esther's mouth move with words she couldn't apprehend. Or she didn't allow herself to hear them. Her sight was blurry the more she tried to acknowledge the true sight. She could feel her strength fade. Her whole body ached tremendously. She doubted she could move an inch.

Medusa's eyes darted from Esther, and surveyed her surroundings under the pale sky. The sky carrying the faintest assurance she was breathing. She was away from that abyss and into the real world. It made her question how long she had been in that memory.

She wanted to remember her encounter, but another part didn't. Now it felt as if her body betrayed her. She felt paralyzed. The more she tried racking her head to think, it only added sufficient amount of pain which made her feel dizzy as it throbbed to recall.

Medusa looked back at Esther. She watched her mouth move which she assumed to form the words '-you back.' Was she saying something, Medusa didn’t realize anymore. Then the next thing she knew, Esther draped her arm around her neck, to support her movements.

With countless struggles, as those feet touched the ground, a burning sensation spread like wildfire around her chest, the same area where that dagger was plunged.

It was the very first time she felt feelings swirl uncontrollably within. It weighed certain amount of dread within her, without her very knowledge. Medusa's hand unconsciously reached her chest where she felt the pain, where she remembered the spot around her chest that the dagger had been pushed wildly and felt a faint heartbeat.

And her eyes widened.

Feeling her stomach twist in an uncertain uneasiness, something rushed up towards her throat. She tore the arm off Esther, crawled to the edge and threw up red liquid to the floor. It was blood.

Her throat was sore and the pain ached in her chest unbearably. Another realization hit her hard at the thought she could feel. What is happening?!

Medusa tried to reach her master, but she received silence as response. It was almost impossible; like it was empty. As though the two souls that existed in one body, never even existed.

"You're sick." Esther pointed with a worried look. It was the first sentence Medusa picked clearly and that broke her off her reverie. "Come, let's get to the quarters before we get punished. And probably, get your wounds treated too," and she helped her get on her feet as they left for the servant quarters.

It was then she realized the entire platform was empty, just the two of them and the sky was dark and filled with terrors. Terrors that her chest was suddenly rhythmic and she could feel!

Esther tried dodging a guard that was on standby, but he spotted them. "You there," he called their attention and Esther halted, turning with effort of the weight to face him.

As he approached them, he said, "You are supposed to be in your respective cells by this hour. What are you both doing walking around?" he scolded, with a visible frown that reached his eyes.

Esther was about to speak when Medusa coughed.

He didn't bother waiting for any response, and the next moment, they were both separated and dragged into the quarters.

As they descended into the castle’s bowels, the group halted before a large wooden door. The guard unlocked it, revealing a dim lit room with roll of cells. “Move.”

Medusa couldn't put up with his pace, so she stumbled to have her hair which was once tied with a ribbon, cut loose, covering all part of her face. Unfortunately, it didn’t only frame her face, but added to the view she was indeed sick.

"Up, quickly!" and he grabbed her arm and dragged her along the rough ground. This caught the attention of other slaves, as they watched the scene within their cells.

Once the guard reached Medusa's cells, he opened it and shoved her inside the dark place, shutting it with the metal bar and the use of the lock.

One thing the guard wasn't aware of, was at that moment he unlocked the door and shoved the key into his belt, Esther stealthily reached for the bunch of keys hooked around his belt that held the key lock of every slave cells. And he pushed her inside her cell.

With a voice of authority, "Get to sleep." he ordered firmly. "There would be more work by dawn." With that, he left, extinguishing the torches at the corridor. And the place was all dark.

And all quiet. The quietness of the night was something eerie and difficult to predict its motive, as it led its occupants under it.

Esther watched him get out of sight, as she waited for the right time to step out of her cell. It was a long wait, but she endured.

It was past midnight once Esther was certain that the coast was clear, and more certain the slaves must have been asleep by this late hour, she quickly fished out the bunch of keys, quietly searching for the key to her own cell.

Unlocking it with a soft click, she released a small sigh. Esther cautiously observed the surroundings, before making her way out. She tiptoed out of her cell, like a thief ready to haunt its treasures by midnight, and made quiet steps to Medusa's.

Little did she know, she had started a journey into a made fate. One that didn’t just belong to her, but one she was about to tamper her very rationality to.

With the key of the number of Medusa's cell, she unlocked it. But before entering, she took hold of the lantern kept at the very far end. Not a very obvious place and she lighted it with a spell. Then she walked into the cell.

The rooms the slaves were caged was medium in size with bricks fixed to the wall of each ends. A single window left open at the other side of a corner, which prevented the total passage of the moonlight from the sky, from adjusting into the dark cells. Though the slaves mindlessly slept soundly, locked up in their own thoughts occupying their head. While some dreamt, few had nightmares.

Esther had just stepped into the cell. She turned around, and the light went up to her face, making her ghastly. Though the lantern was bright, the place was utterly dark. There was nothing but the lantern and that dim glowing the coal of the light inside the cell.

Medusa laid on the cold ground with her knees curled up to her chest with her back that ached now, almost unbearably, the cold breeze brushed her skin made her to shiver slightly. By the look of the gloomy sky through the open window, it was obvious the night would be rainy.

Esther left, to return with a bowl and a piece of cloth. And Medusa heard her say, "Lay on your stomach.”

In the past, Medusa had never had to relent to anyone's will. She had never been weak. Nor vulnerable. Helpless. Fragile. All these were new to her. She is cursed. Everyone knew. But she had never obliged to any words, nor any request. Any command. Any order. But why now? Her body was strongly against her deep sense of refusal. Her pride wouldn't let her.

She refused her vulnerability. She was nothing like the others who constantly needed help for the least little things. Her back ached. And she gasped.

"Medusa, are you-”

Medusa shot her a look as if to tell her to get out. Her eyes were red, and she turned her head to the side. The pain was eating her. Her fists were clenched. She was angry. She felt herself flush and her knees were weak to stand.

"I-I mean no harm. Let me help you," Medusa heard Esther say while she was buried in pain.

Medusa hesitated.

And it hit her again. She gasped further.

Medusa heard her repeat the same words, and she forced herself to acknowledge them. But now was different. She knew she had no option. Her body was terribly in a broken state.

With great reluctance and far greater iciness, she lay on her stomach. One she never thought of doing at someone’s will until now. Medusa felt the lace that held her garment in place, loosened, exposing her back to the person view.

"Christ!" A ripe curse escaped Esther's lips before she could prevent it. She spoke in anxious gasp with her pretty face gleaming with a thin polish of sweat as her eyes gazed in horror. "T-this… this is h-horrible." She muttered the last word to herself.

Medusa rolled her eyes and buried her face on the cold ground.

And Esther shook her head. Soaking the cloth into the warm water, she squeezed it, her mind still heavy with overflowing thoughts and worries as she started cleaning her wounds.

The wounds seemed deep enough to leave scars on her body. For someone to possess such fragile body like that of a human, the body wouldn't hold to such painful treat, and possibly cause severe damage due to the pressure of the whippings and immense torture.

But this person was no ordinary person. She was a witch. A witch that endures pain to the extent of letting her demon run wild and rampage, destroying and killing anything or anyone dim her fit.

But Esther was surprised that it didn’t happen. She had expected Medyse to create a scene, a scene worth another trouble. But was rather speechless to realize she didn’t. Instead, Medusa remained still as the whipping slashed her further without remorse.

It was as though what stood wasn’t a being but a wood, an unbreakable one which didn’t snap or creak at whatever amount of pressure it received.

Suddenly, Medusa felt something that was excruciating for her. It was a pain whip-wrapping around her back. It continued and settled on her chest. She breathed, biting down hard to muffle her hiss.

Esther who was still in daze treating her wounds stopped, when Medusa grabbed her wrist firmly.

She was surprised at the sudden grab. Was she doing it too much? In a way that hurt her? But when she realized it wasn’t because of that reason but a sign for she to stop and leave, Esther figured she had to say something.

"I want to help,” But she could barely get out the last word. "Let me help.” Slowly, the grip on her wrist loosened when Medusa let go, such that Esther felt she could now breathe. Esther massaged her wrist carefully to ease the pain.

Was there more about witches she needed to know? It only confused her the most, with the thought of how strong one witch could be. For Christ sake, she was a lady and not a man to possess such strength! A witch and no god!

It was totally insane.

"You are running temperature," Esther observed with a frown. She was quite certain her temperature was normal to have increased this much. One moment, she was fine and the next, strange things happen.

Her body was heating up, and she soaked the wet cloth before squeezing it, to continue cleaning the fresh wounds that wasn’t too deep. Wasn’t too worse. But which of them wasn’t?

And it was then Esther looked closely to the wounds at her back. Was it-? Wait… and she peered closer. Her eyes widened. What in the devil’s-!

It was as if an invisible knife was slicing her flesh, causing the wounds to expand. There were moving. Esther blinked twice, to ensure she was not dreaming. To her shock, the wounds began to fume in black vapor, like cold water poured on a hot burning metal.

Esther's hand slowly retraced, as she watched the horrifying scene unfold before her eyes. Her mouth was hung open as she froze stiff. She could swear her eyes bulged out of its socket.

The low growl resembling that of an animal silenced the room. The light in the lantern shivered, its flame moving sideways in an attempt to exhaust itself. But nothing could exhaust the darkness palpable in the room.

Not even her.

***

#Medusa&Medyse.