Bleeding Tears, Crying Blood

I stared at the glowing embers that burned half heartedly in the hearth in front of me. I had been doing so for a long time now. Worry gnawed at my stomach and clutched at my heart painfully. Not that you could tell via my facial expression. As usual my face appeared blank and unnaturally calm. Detached from all emotion even. It didn’t show a slither of the current turmoil I was in.

I shifted my weight, hoping to make myself a little bit more comfortable on the thin mattress, the only thing separating my bottom from the cold and filthy stone floor. I scanned the room again in hopes of finding something that would break this dreadful boredom. I didn’t. Everything was dreary in this small room. The walls were bland. The floor was bland. The ceiling was bland. Even the fireplace, the only notable object in this room, was bland. The blue streams of moonlight didn’t help to make anything I saw any more interesting. As I stared at the dancing beams however, I noticed something had changed.

Pushing my thick black hair from my face, I turned and watched the window. Outside, where I could see the sky and streaks of grey cloud, the light was shifting from pale blue to bright orange. The sun was rising.

Sighing heavily, I let myself flop onto my side. I had to figure out a way to get out of here quickly. I wasn’t much help to anyone locked in here. Most importantly, I couldn’t find him if I couldn’t get out. He would be lost, most likely killed, if I didn’t get to him soon. I didn’t want that to happen. It hurt to even think about it.

I stared at the drifting specks of dust that twirled absentmindedly in the moonbeams. The sudden twist in my gut and ache in my chest at the thought of losing him was all the motivation I needed.

I had to get out. I would get out. And I would make the Brides pay for taking him from me.