Chapter Text
Darkness had teeth.
It gnawed at time and chewed it into shapeless pieces and stripped the hours of meaning until one couldn’t tell a single day from the next. Down here, there was no sunlight, no breeze, and no sense of passing seasons – there was only dampness and stone, and a gloom so thick that it almost felt alive. Vera didn’t remember when she had fallen asleep; she only recalled waking up with dried tears sticking to her cheeks. Her body was stiff, her head throbbed, and her limbs felt impossibly heavy. For a long while, she didn’t move – curled on her side and staring at the wall.
Her mind, however, was racing sharp and bright – she had been planning this for days. The spoon had been easy enough to hide; a bent, little piece of metal stolen and tucked away from one of the pitiful meals the guards gave her, and she had carefully concealed it within the folds of her soiled dress. They hadn’t noticed.
They never noticed anything anymore.
She sharpened it slowly – days of barely moving, days of lying on her side with her back to the cell door, scraping the handle against the stone floor in tiny, careful movements. She’d stopped reacting to the guards’ taunts, stopped lifting her head when they approached, and stopped eating so it would look real, so that her cheeks hollowed and her collarbones poked at her skin.
Tonight – whatever “tonight” meant down here – she would make them believe she had died.
She lay slumped on the ground like a corpse set aside for later disposal. Her fingers tightened around the curved handle of the spoon that was tucked under her thigh, now crafted into a crude, wicked point, and her heart thudded so hard against her chest she feared it might give her away.
Boots suddenly approached – heavy ones – and the slosh of water in a bucket echoed against the walls.
It was time.
The cell door rattled as the guard outside shifted, grumbling.
Vera didn’t so much as blink.
He slid the new tray of food in, the scrape of tin against stone cutting through the air. The water came next – a sudden cold wave slapping onto her back and soaking her thin dress, dripping down her shoulders and ribs. Her muscles screamed at the shock, but she held absolutely still.
“Hey. Hey.” The guard’s voice sharpened. He let out a short bark of laughter. “Don’t play dead.”
She did not move.
A pause. Then the jingle of keys.
Her pulse roared in her ears as the lock clicked, the iron door screaming that familiar, horrible groan as it was heaved open. She kept her body limp and her cheek pressed to the gritty floor. The guard stepped in, muttering under his breath. His foot nudged her sharply, hard enough to bruise.
Vera stayed still, holding her breath.
Another kick – harder this time, enough to jostle her legs.
Again, she remained still, lungs beginning to burn.
Then she heard him grumble again and felt him bend down, feeling the air shift as he leaned closer, checking for breath. His hand hovered over her shoulder.
This was the moment.
With all her strength, Vera jerked her body and turned sharply. Her grip tightened around the neck of the sharpened spoon as it collided with his chest.
The guard cried out in surprise and stumbled backwards, and Vera used the leverage to roll over onto him and drive her fist further in before yanking it back, prepared to strike. The guard’s eyes were wide, his expression a mix of shock and anger, but it did not deter her. She brought down her fist again onto his chest, feeling the weapon sink in and seeing red seep through. He let out a guttural noise, and kicked her off with ease. Vera landed on the stone floor with a thud, the impact shooting through her shoulder and rattling her bones.
He was on her in seconds.
“You bitch!” he seethed, his hands coming to her neck as his legs pinned her down, eyes burning with something twisted and dangerous. Blood dripped onto her face as his grip tightened around her neck and caused little black spots dance in her vision. One of her hands came up to claw frantically at his forearm while the other lay at her side, bloodstained weapon still clutched tight. Vera choked out a gasp and struggled under his weight, feeling the pressure on her lungs building as she desperately tried to heave in a breath. She gritted her teeth and gripped the spoon so hard that it almost burned into her palm. It was now or never – whatever little strength she had left was dwindling fast. She didn’t come this far just to fail now.
With a strangled cry, she swung upward and struck him in the neck.
The guard let out a sickening groan as blood slithered over Vera’s fingers and trailed down her arm, and she could taste the metal in the air as the warmness seeped through her sleeve. The guard’s arms were shaking now, but she held firm – even as her dirty, bloodied fingers threatened to slip.
The room suddenly tilted and her heart thundered in her chest; the black spots grew darker, and she knew she couldn’t hold on for much longer. For an agonizing moment, time felt suspended, all sound fading quietly into the background until her ears were ringing. Then, everything abruptly rushed back into focus, and the guard’s grip slackened; his eyelids drooped, and Vera used the opening to heave him off with a choked sob, gasping in a deep breath as his body slumped to the floor beside her, the sharpened spoon still jutting out of his neck.
Vera pulled herself to her hands and knees, coughing and sucking in breath after breath as she furiously blinked the black spots out of her eyes. Her tired and starved body screamed for respite, but there was no time.
A low gurgle rumbled from beside her, and Vera glanced over.
The guard clutched his neck as blood pooled onto the dirty, stone floor. His eyes were fixed on her, desperate and frantic, his expression pleading, almost begging for her to help him.
Months ago, the thought of taking a life had both horrified and disgusted her.
But now, as she watched the life leave his eyes, the only emotion Vera felt was relief. And for the first time in weeks, she felt her heart beat with purpose, alive and bright. She wobbled to her feet, pushing through the weakness and exhaustion that had settled deep into her bones long before tonight. She didn’t have much time – she had to keep going.
Once her vision cleared, she saw that the guard had left the cell door open. Her heart leapt to her throat and her limbs flooded hotly with adrenaline. Wasting no more time, she burst out of the cell, lungs burning, heart frenzied. She tore down the narrow stone hallway, bare feet slapping the cold floor and wet dress clinging to her legs.
The spiral staircase loomed ahead, winding upward to freedom.
Or death.
Either felt preferable to this cage.
Her legs carried her upward before she could think. As she rounded the top, she collided with something hard, and a hand grabbed her, yanking her backwards. Vera instinctively drove her knee forward, hearing them cry out as she shoved them hard and they tumbled backward, their scream spiralling down the stone throat of the staircase. Vera turned and ducked around a corner, narrowly avoiding the bullets that splintered along the walls and windows as she bolted down a corridor and away from the sound of more boots thundering toward her. She knew these halls well, and what was once a maze was now a map for her to use.
Vera avoided the main areas, careful not to be spotted by any patrolling guards, and stuck to the smaller corridors with connecting rooms. There were many routes she could take, but she knew she didn’t have the time to double back. She had to be precise, and she had to keep moving; but with one door after another being locked, panic began to set in – she hadn’t accounted for this many rooms being locked. As she came to the end of a long hallway, the last door on the right mercifully gave way and she slammed into the empty room, legs trembling. Without thinking she darted around, eyes wild, checking for a place to hide.
A familiar bellow sliced through the chorus of noise and hearing it sent fear racing up her spine. She was running out of time and running out of options – the desk was out of the question, she couldn’t go back the way she came, and there was no other door to escape through – and so she resigned herself to one of the small built-in cupboards by the far wall.
She slipped inside the small space and pulled the cupboard closed just as the door to the room swung open with a resounding crash. Vera pulled her knees to her chest, one hand coming over her mouth to stifle her ragged breathing as she listened to the sounds of heavy footsteps, angry voices, and furniture being toppled over. Pain suddenly flooded her thigh, and she looked down in horror to see dark red seeping through her dress – wait, when did I get shot? – glinting in the faint sliver of light that peeked between the gaps. She used her free hand to clamp over it, eyes wrenching shut as she tried to hold back the whine of pain that bled behind her teeth. Tears spilled over her cheeks as the pain in her leg bordered on agony, and her chest felt as though it was going to split in two.
Her eyes snapped open as she heard cupboard doors being forced open.
Her breath hitched in her throat, and for one horrifying second, she thought for sure that she was done for – but then, just as quickly as they had come, the sounds outside began to stagger and fade as the cupboards stopped opening and footsteps left the room, and Vera let out a low, muffled whine of pain once she was sure they were gone. She sucked in a handful of deep breaths and tried not to look at her bleeding leg as she crawled out of the cupboard before quietly exiting the room. She kept looking behind her, using the wall for balance as she limped back down the hallway and then turned left, weaved behind a tall column, and then finally slipped into the smaller corridor that she was sure was near the exit by the stables. Most of the guards patrolled the main exits, so if any door was unattended, it would be this one. An involuntary cry slipped out as she stumbled and fell to her knees, but she dug her fingers into the floor and forced herself upright.
Don’t stop. Keep going.
She could still hear the faint echo of shouting and footsteps coming from somewhere behind her as she crossed an atrium, ignoring the aching numbness in her leg and the sudden wave of dizziness that washed over her. Every muscle in her body screamed, her legs threatened to buckle, and exhaustion dragged her down by the shoulders – but she pushed on, her last splinter of will the only thing keeping her going. The unguarded exit suddenly came into view, and Vera choked on a sob – half relief, half terror – and threw herself toward it.
Her fingers fumbled at the latch, and she cursed her bloodstained hands. It suddenly clicked, and she shoved it open and spilled out into the open air. After a quick glance around, Vera moved low and quiet, keeping to the edges of the gardens where darkness pooled the thickest. Every sound suddenly felt amplified – the uneven crunch of gravel under her feet, the distant echo of shouting, the way her breath tore in and out of her throat – as she stumbled across the manicured lawns toward the back gate, toward the horizon beyond.
Toward freedom.