Twist of the WristA Story by Hidden_identity
Sherman, a prisoner in the castle for five days now was herded up from the dungeons into the dimly lit throne room, rats scurrying out of the way to shadowed corners. He shivered at the sight of Malody, the witch who had imprisoned him; the enemy. Sherman was thrown harshly upon his knees in front of the evil witch.
"Well, well, well. Looked what the cat dragged in," the witch said in an innocent tone, gracefully circling Sherman.
He glared up at her through sunken eyes. His hands trembled with a mixture of rage and discomfort, due to the frozen climate inside the castle walls.
"You will never get me to speak," Sherman said in a ragged voice.
"Is that so?" Malody challenged, fiddling her oak wand between her hands. She lifted her boot-covered foot and rammed it into Sherman's abdomen.
Sherman howled painfully, doubling over so his forehead lay on the cold, stone floor. Malody's foot came back for another assult and knock Sherman onto his other side. He curled up into a ball with his eyes shut tight.
Malody squated in front of Sherman and flicked his hair out of his face with her wand.
"Are you going to tell me now?" Malody asked, blowing one of her own stray locks of charcoal hair away from her face.
"Never," Sherman grunted.
"Very well," Malody said sternly.
She rose from the floor and stared angerly at him.
"Get up, you worthless rodent!"
Sherman shakily struggled to his feet. Malody gently put her hand on his cheek. She slowly retracted her hand and sharply striked it across his face. Malody's lips curled into a sneer.
"You weak little weasel."
"I'm no weasel," Sherman forced out.
"Hmph. But you are foolish. Do you know what I could do to you?" she whispered in his ear. "I know things that would make your skin crawl and your bones chatter. I've done things that you would have never thought of even in your wildest dreams. With just a twist of my wrist, I can make you feel unbearable pain so bad you would wish you were dead," she hissed.
Sherman scrunched up his face and spat at Malody's feet. She frowned her brows in a deathly glare and stalked backwards a few steps. She lifted her wand slowly, causing fear to ignite in Sherman's eyes. Malody pointed it straight at his chest and, with the slightest little, effort, flicked her wrist a centimeter. Sherman's knees buckled and he fell to the ground. Screams of agony filled the hollow halls of the castle. Sherman squirmed uncontrollably on the floor, his face pulled taut.
Malody continued wtih her brutal torture, grinning evily at his pain. The guards who had brought Sherman in winced, but they knew they couldn't stop her. Once Malody had grown bored, Sherman's body laid sprawled and limp on the stone floor.
"Oh, pity," Malody sighed, thoroughly disappointed, "he was a fun play thing. Oh, well. Boys, take him away. He is no longer of use to me."
© 2011 Hidden_identity
Added on October 19, 2011
Last Updated on October 19, 2011
AboutI am an aspiring writer. I am currently writing about five stories right now. I would really be grateful to hear what other people have to say about them other than my family. I am a very private pers.. more..