Page 36 of How Does It Feel?

Chapter 10

Paint the Walls Red

Callie

The damp stone floor of the dungeon made it hard to keep the tiny cuts of cheese on the tiny charcuterie board I had been making. I suppose it was less of a board and more of a loose brick from the back wall, but brown rat wouldn’t mind.

I laughed out loud at how cute it looked with the little bits of cracker and honey I had saved from my meal yesterday. I quickly looked over my shoulder to see if the sleeping bog had heard me.

I hadn’t slept all night, too afraid to close my eyes, for fear the forest bog would wake and fulfill his promises.

I gently poked the open, bloodied wound on my head where he had hurt me. Somehow my wounds had already started to heal, faster than they ever had at home.

I pressed my finger nail sharply into the wound and bit the iron cuff around my wrist to stop from crying out. The metal tang of blood and iron swirled in my mouth.

I still felt something.

The iron chain between my cuffs clanged loudly with my movement, and I stifled a cry as I squeezed my eyes shut and listened in terror.

Had I woken the bog?

A stray tear fell from my crinkled eyes as I shivered and quickly attempted to shove myself deeper into the dark corner where I hid.

All night, thoughts of how to escape the cell and the forest bog tormented me. All night I had watched his sleeping form for signs he was waking. Fear never left me, even as I tried to feed brown rat with a meal one last time. The bog would not sleep forever, and when it woke, it would kill me. I knew it.

I surmised that waiting for death to arrive was infinitely worse than when death would actually arrive.

Waiting, every breath in fear for when the monster would decide my fate. I’m surprised it hadn’t risen already with the tang of my fear in its mouth, because it had only increased with the wait throughout the night. Maybe that was his intention. Smart.

I was shaking so hard I feared I would make noise.

Be quiet or they will wake and hurt you again.

If I hadn’t lost my mind already, then it was happening now. My sanity had slowly snapped. It was like the threads being frayed on a worn and tired rope. I began to unravel as I watched the bog’s dark lump of a body breathe in and out on the opposing end of the dungeon.

A moment of stillness passed, and I breathed out a silent lungful of relief and returned to my mini charcuterie board.

I could wait and see if they gave me more bread tonight, but I doubt they would even bother, assuming I was as good as dead now.

Quietly and with absolute care, I stepped my legs over the rusted chain connecting my cuffs and pulled my hands taut on either side of my body. The thick chain pulled tightly around my lower back, silencing any further clangs. I moved the small brick of food to the crack in the cell wall where I had previously removed the brick. I sat my body down silently in front of the gap and waited patiently.

Within only a few moments, the rat came crawling in. The light scratch of his claws on the musty cell’s stone and the deep rhythm of a sleeping monster were the only sounds. Even the other prisoners were eerily silent as if they, too, were afraid of waking the forest bog. Either that or they were quietly listening for the entertainment from my inevitable death.

“Friend, I’m so glad you made it back,” I mouthed, finally feeling a tinge of fear vacate my mind with the presence of a friend.

The large brown rat looked to both sides of the cell before bypassing the brick of food and hurriedly scampering into my lap.

“You’re still alive! How!? I told you to stop saving your food for us. I need to help you escape, not take your nourishment,” the brown rat scolded quietly as he climbed onto my shoulder to nuzzle the crook of my neck.

His soft fur, pressed against my skin, so warm and dry compared to everything else down here.

“Take the food back to the others, please. I need to know you are fed,” I pleaded in a breathy whisper.

He had assured me many times the castle rats were beyond taken care of, but I couldn’t harbor the thought of any of the animals and creatures around not having food, especially him.

“Please be quiet. I cannot bear to see that thing hurt you anymore. Hopefully, I have convinced him to arrive before the bog wakes,” he whispered even softer than before. He paused to look in the opposite corner filled with shadows before continuing. “I came to tell you that he is on the way! I have failed you—I just didn’t know what to do! Please, please don’t give up, I won’t . . . I just know he can’t possibly be so cruel to you. How does he not feel it? We will find a way—” Brown rat squeaked loudly before quickly running off my shoulder and through the hole again, just as a loud bang thudded and a large boulder slammed into the wall, just barely missing the rat’s tail.

I leaped back without thinking in an attempt to put distance between the monster and myself. I quickly stepped over my chain and brought it to the front so I would hopefully have more range of movement with my hands, maybe use the chain. Not that I could defend myself much. Callie Peterson was weak and defenseless.