webnovel

The God's Last Hope

What would it be like to be powerless in a world of powers? Be weak but meant to be powerful? (WARNING: COVER PICTURES ARE NOT MINE, I JUST FOUND THEM ON THE INTERNET)

CatsCanWrite · Fantasy
Not enough ratings
37 Chs

PRISON

Sunrise rose through the trees as the night began to end. She felt groggy, and was confused when she saw bars surrounding her. When she looked down, she was wearing an orange jumpsuit. Several other people surrounded her, wearing the same bright orange jumpsuit. The jumpsuits smelled of barf, and everybody's hair was knotted, and they were all covered in dirt. Guards surrounded them, handing out what appeared to be soup, but when she got a closer look, she realized that it was barf. The other prisoners were gratefully gulping down the barf, so she forced herself to down the disgusting mixture. After every last scrap had been eaten, they brought them to a stark white room, where a doctor examined each and every one of the prisoners, then they were lead to the whipping posts. The most healthy were whipped more, and all their limbs were chained. Her being the newest prisoner therefore the most healthy was administered a hundred and fifty lashes. The average seemed to be around fifty. Her whole body had swelled, and bruises covered her, turning her a dark shade of purple. She was in pain, her whole body felt like one large bruise. Her skin was raw and tender. She didn't recognize herself when she looked in the one mirror by the whipping post.

She stumbled after the guards, where they dumped her into a large pit. There it was so cold that her tears froze. The walls were coated with snow, and every few hours or so, a guard came in to administer a few extra lashes. But her whole body had gone numb, so it was of no use. She curled up in a ball, and closed her eyes.

When she awoke, she was lying on the same floor, and the same doctor from the stark white room was treating her. The doctor who had black hair and black eyes, with the whitest skin in the world had a creepy feeling about her. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail which reached her shoulder. The doctor was treating her wounds to reduce the swelling, but at the same time she was injecting something into her body which seemed to create a false sensation of pain. She drifted back asleep, and when she awoke she was shackled to the wall, and now a tube was going into her neck, administrating constant artificial pain. She gazed up at the sky, but all she saw was barbed wire. Always barbed wire. She drifted in and out of sleep until the next week where she was led out of the dungeon and into the feeding room where she ate her barf, then the doctor visit. They allowed a shot of pain that sent her crumpling to the ground. The guards dragged her to the whipping post to have her lashes, then she was thrown back into the dungeon. They threw her in, attempting to break bones, but she simply extended her bruised wings and glided down. The same pattern repeated for months, and over and over again she got whipped.