Time Stamp: Longest Winter.
Her sleep was troubled, it seemed like it had been for as long as she could remember now. The draconess woke in her cell. She wasn’t sure if it was morning or afternoon, nor how long she had been sleeping fitfully. The seasons never changed in her underground prison. She wasn’t even sure how long she had been here. The first few cycles she had marked the passing of the brightening, at least her sleep cycles by scratching at the coarse cell walls with her talons. Now it mattered little if she made the marks.
Kour’el was naked, crouched in the corner of her cell she could reach. The narrow stone room was empty and she was chained to the wall of her room by an iron collar around her neck. She wore other chains as well, she may be a prisoner to an insane lich and his army of undead minions but they had learned their lessons, unchained she was dangerous. It was cool in her cell, almost cold, sometimes her fingers and toes went numb from the cold but today she wasn’t lucky enough to get even that small mercy. Truly she had affronted one or all of the gods in the course of her short life.
One would think that merely sitting waiting for hours on end would be boring, but Kour knew the alternatives and this was the most peace she got. Should her captor decide to experiment with her some more, her screams would echo down the damp hallways of her prison. Even the lich’s sadism was better than the demon though. Just thinking of him made a shiver run down her spine, her dirty scales rustling dryly against each other. She could smell his musk on her scales, left from the last time he had rutted with her.
Even if she wanted to pace like the caged beast she was, she couldn’t, the chain running from her collar to the staple on the wall was too short, only three feet in length. The iron collar was heavy, the edges rough. Every so often when she moved, she felt rivulets of blood running down her chest and belly. There were many more blood stains on her scales. The beautiful emerald and blue scales were covered with old, dark and dried particles, and others, fresh, slick and black. Combined with the dirt of unwashed skin and the bitter taste of the demon’s seed, it was enough to make Kour'el's stomach rebel when she was coherent enough to notice it.
Her stomach cramped. Her gorge rose and she gagged. Then the prisoner leaned over to the side and vomited a puddle of light green liquid onto the floor. It began to slowly run across the floor to the far wall. Pulling back deeper into her corner in disgust, Kour'el raised her hands and wiped her snout off before spitting on the floor to clear the foul taste from her mouth. Another puddle, yellow, was also across the room. They didn't give bother to give her a bucket anymore.
Perhaps the most terrible aspect of her imprisonment was the fact that her captures had taken everything from her. The freedom of the skies, her body and her mind. The bastard had even taken her eyes in a sadistic experiment. The last thing the fallen draconess had seen had been a small army of lizards eating their way out of her eyes. Months later and she was still unused to her sightless world. They had cauterized her eye sockets after to prevent infection afterwards and kill any of the eggs in case any of the animals remained to dig deeper into her skull and nest in her brain. Now her eye sockets were dark holes in her gaunt face.
Rising her head, the draconess tilted her head slightly to one side, straining to hear better. Whoever said that other senses improved when one was lost was full of crap. Faintly though, then louder the sound grew until the footsteps echoed in the dank corridors. Involuntarily her lips pulled back over her fangs in a grimace and she struggled to strand straight in the corner. Someone was coming down the hall and whoever it was; Kour'el knew nothing pleasant would come from the visitor. Both the lich and his servant come to torture and do more experiments on her, or the demon to abuse and rape her.
