Wednesday, December 11, 2013

Zafira Kerias: Fear

I've previously written a simple taste of what Zafira actually experienced when Alastair stole her conscious but I never went into the details of what it was like being trapped and some of the more....gruesome and terrifying things she saw. And felt. 

Zafira looked straight at Javier and Ravel. The boys were watching her as she tried to find words, for months she kept to herself the terrifying time she was in Alastair's mind. 
"I just know....that it is hard to explain. I've been able to keep it hidden to both of you but....Javier I'll show you and Erskine being you can hear my thoughts and see what memory I show you..." Zafira closed her eyes and started from the beginning. 

June/July when Alastair took captives

Zafira could see everyone and hear everyone. Nothing seemed totally wrong physically until mentally she heard the screaming. It caused her to want to freak, if she had the ability to even hear her own thoughts. Whatever was happening it seemed odd and...she couldn't control her movements. It was like being the eyes and ears but not the brain, which seemed odd. Zafira didn't even know what she was thinking, it felt like her worst fear had come true: Alastair had stolen her true name. She could see everyone in Blogland and possibly Javier or someone freaking out on Alastair. How strange. 
"What the hell did he do?!" She screamed, no reply came from anyone. Probably unlikely anyone heard her. What seemed like days went by and the noise of the others, a blur really, vanished. Zafira found herself able to hear her own thoughts, hear her own breathing. She couldn't see though. She could feel the pain of when Niccolò had performed his own insane autopsy on her. She cried out for Javier but he didn't come. This wasn't like that fatal day. Her vision suddenly came back and she saw herself as she usually did, but laying in a pool of blood. It was her living room, she could hear Javier's footsteps but then she saw a knife and he died before her, a strangled scream of fear, pain and sadness came from her. She heard that laughter, Niccolò's, but she knew Alastair Cruciatus was behind it. Then she saw something, her own child...Alexis. Alexis was in a field running and Mevolent was attacking the Sceptre pointed at her baby and she turned to dust. Zafira felt the tears sting her eyes as she screamed, and begged for it to stop. To end the torture of her loved ones dying. Then that damned voice, smooth as the day she first heard it in the dungeons, 
"Are you seriously that afraid? I was only just beginning, love. How do you know that I didn't steal your name?" Zafira hissed her answer,
"You stole my name?!" Her fear began to rise, her would she be able to tell them what Alastair did? Surely he would gloat, but he has a Necromancer why need another? Alastair's laughter was audible, like he was next to her. Then the screams came again, still sending chills to her. She saw what he saw. Blogland. It was night now and most were asleep though obviously he was not. As he walked, it made her feel off like how disembodied she felt unable to walk on her own. Her thoughts were barely audible and she didn't know if she was screaming, probably was, it was the only thing she could do to hold onto whatever was left of her. Then the world went black and screaming subsided, she was in her treehouse again. Zafira curled up in a ball and willed sleep. 

A sharp pain woke her. And then the moment of torture. 
"Please?" Came Niccolò's mocking voice as the live autopsy began. This time she could see him cut her. See and smell her own blood, if Zafira had any ounce of strength she'd have screamed. It had been this point when she was unconscious. It went on until the blur of torture sessions ended and she lay curled up in a ball, crying. Let me go please. She thought. If I'm part of the names maybe I will get free. If...I can. If...I have the strength to take control. Alastair's laughter was soft, and close. 
"Oh but you will never escape from here. I stole your name." His voice faded and Zafira was left in the darkness. In a pool of blood. Somewhere in the far distance that voice, Justaria. He didn't steal your name, I'm free. I will get you ought somehow, Adra and them...they plan to. He isn't paying attention now, he's preoccupied. I promise...
Zafira banished the thoughts for fear Alastair was listening. And then, the hot knife came down and Zafira screamed, sometimes Alastair would let her have a glimpse of being with the names, no more then a minute or two. All the rest of the time she was secluded in her own private Hell. Hoping. Praying. Freedom. 

Present day Blogland
Ravel's eyes widened. Javier was pale. Nobody spoke. Zafira broke the silence,
"Now you know. I'm sorry you had to see that." She turned and walked into the bedroom. Christopher in her arms, safe. He hadn't stolen her name but he made her believe that was the case. The day he released her was a blur, a canyon they say, and was the past. Niccolò was back and that was that. Nobody would kill her now. Well name wise. 

1 comment:

  1. Awesome! :)

    You really got a sense of the atmosphere. :) And I think it was kind of described disembodiedly . . . um . . . *searches for the word* scatteredly? Except not scattered, more cloudy. Anyway, it was described kind of how it felt to Zaf, which was really good. :)

    Poor Zaf. :( :(