Chapter Two

Lilith hears a rapping at the cell door...

THE DOOR IS collapsing.

        My eyes are latched onto that silver door like extracted claws splintering through cloth and gripped unto flesh; they’re never moving. My entire being is never moving, paralyzed to its very spot. It refuses to.

I refuse to.

I’m shackled unto the stiff mattress in the corner of the small cell, huddled over it like a hesitant vampire. My boney legs curl, the tips of my knees brushing against my arid lips as I stare ahead at that fated door before me.

There’s someone on the opposite side of that door. My insides are buzzing. The only time anyone has ever ventured to my cell was to slide my daily meal, which consisted of a fowl-smelling glob of mush, through the tiny sliver of a window in the bottom of the door. This, however, is completely different..

They’re quiet about their arrival, but, with heightened senses, I hear them. I hear them like the voices in my head.

I hear the door being scratched at, nails dragging down a chalkboard; I hear the chains that adorn each masterful lock rattling like snakes; I hear them unclasp, unclasp, unclasp, and hear them fall one by one onto the cracked, cement floors.

They’re undoing all the locks on the door.

I’m being liberated! my mind thrums in anticipation, and I swear that my fluttering heart is in my throat.

I can’t understand why I’m so exhilarated by this-- this foolish idea of freedom and rescue. I could easily release myself, but long ago, I turned the lock and swallowed the key. Even though escape was only a blink away, I was stagnant; I stayed like a good criminal.

Yet, I can’t help the exuberance that's bottled up inside. My heart is hammering with the force of one thousand soldiers, and there’s something, a pit of suspense, building up, up, up my throat like an insect crawling up an impossible, never ending tower.

With bated breath, I cork my emotions and remain posed like a statue, perched upright on my mattress with the shackles decorating my ankles and wrists.

The clamoring at the door ceases for one painful moment, and all I’m left with is the rapid rush of blood in my ears. But it’s not silent for long.

Chains now sprawled across the floor like stone serpents, I watch the with pursed lips as the door slowly creaks open with painful leisure. The door lets free a soft murmur, a relieved breath, as it is steadily pushed open to reveal two figures standing stiffly in the darkness.

The figures step almost casually into the light. Two men, one short and burly, the other towering and lanky, stare down at me with sharp, jagged eyes. They’re garbed in gas masks and navy uniforms.

I flinch. They’re both clutching guns to their chests like it's a bouquet of roses.

“The court ruled,” the tall one barks, glaring at me with pure abhorrence.

“Death penalty,” hisses the other, zero sympathy exuding from his spitting eyes.

My pulse all but halts; my stomach falls to the floor. In a flash, a lightning bolt, I am collected without any resistance.

Harshly, they shove me to the door,  the chains binding me, digging painfully into my wrists. They grab my shoulders, pushing me down mindless hallways, and I let them. I let them lead to to my untimely death.

I am a fool.

This isn't my liberation. This is my demise.

Author's Note

Any criticism would be much appreciated!