Town Cell

Constable Jomot led the waif through the small crumbling bell tower that stood west of the river, away from the Fangwood Forest which lied on the northeastern bank of the Marideth River. The tower, built by Molthune nearly two centuries ago when the borders of Nirmathas were synonymous with the Fangwood itself. A panopticon to quell dissidents and imprison the unwanted rabble.

Once she had thought the tower to be a ward against evil, now as Constable Jomot shoved her towards its mossy flagstone construction it exuded a coldness as it loomed over her. The first floor was uninspiring, just a circular room with a staircase to darkness which unevered her greatly. Jomot stored guard supplies of less valuable nature such as raw timbers and barrels of grain stored for bad winters. A ladder with worn wooden rungs with a knobby finish stretched up to the other two floors. Havilah could see a bit of light peek through the floorboards from Jomot’s room, somewhat **** to the elements from the poor state of the structure.

“Wha’cha gawking at? Always knew you women,” venomous misogyny oozed from him, “were up to something.”

Glancing down the rough-cut stone staircase into the darkness made her freeze. Her hairs stood on end, her gut twisted, and she pushed back against his firm hands. Putting his hand lower against her back, he whispered, “Fucking try anything. I am the law, and the law is not mocked, now be a good girl and walk.” With little other choice she stepped onto the cold rugged staircase and felt the change in temperature and humidity.

Down here the air congealed with itself to create a fetid waft which whisked all into its wretched realm. The room was lit only by a small candle, he pushed her away from the entrance and then quickly lit a torch then began to light the lanterns held on support beams. Once lit, the area revealed its true squalor. This pit, with nary three cells carved into the earth surrounding the central cavity. The central room was entered from the south staircase, a long table with all sorts of instruments and metal implements that Havilah could not discern with the shadowy ebbing hue everything took on. It did not quell her fear. To the east and west were two cells excavated and blocked by thick iron bars. To the north a earthen wall with a sunken thick metal door lies closed. All around the floor were buckets coated in a fetid material, chains piled against the walls in great rusty heaps, and rat droppings peppered throughout like charcoal. The Constable held his arm towards one of the cells, Havilah paused at the precipice of the cell, only to be shoved in. He slammed the door, then left upstairs.

Her cell had a hard earthen surface and anchor points for chains. She was relieved that none had been placed on her as of yet. The only amenities for her were the bucket of ill repute, some hay infested with creepy crawlies, and a crude carving into the hard clay above her which read, “home home home home home.”

I do not wish to die here. Mama, help me.