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I always thought that if you were weak enough to get caught, you deserved all the punishment that would come your way. Well, that was until I got myself caught.
Dadier stripped me down and locked us both inside the tiled torture chamber for another round of water treatment. As far as I could remember, this was a type of torture they subjected me to for every day since I became a prisoner. Having lived high up in the mountains for all of my life, I consider water a rare commodity, but the way the giants used it was just too … diabolical. The cold, tiled floor jolted my body, like a bolt of electricity went up and down my spine.
He stripped down, positioned me beneath the metallic delivery system, and then opened up the device. The strange looking contraption doused me with boiling water — an even rarer commodity for a mountain-top village. It took my body some time to adjust, but eventually the torture device proved no match once again. The temperature of the water varied — some days it would be boiling like lava, while other days the water would be as frigid as a glacier. However, the days Mamie would be responsible for immersing me in water, it was usually lukewarm.
Dadier closed his eyes, as he let the water flow down his hazel-colored skin. I slipped out of sight the first chance I got and immediately tried to unlock the door, to no avail. He grabbed me by my underarms and held me down beneath the raging stream. I screamed and fluttered, acting like I was being scalded by the burning liquid. He laughed as he scrubbed me down. I laughed at him on the inside, knowing that — once again — I have bettered him. As always.
The water treatment torture the giants subjected us to was strange and often times ineffective. Of course, I would never admit that to them. If they wanted to drown me, they could have just submerged me in one of the tiled swimming holes we frequented — unless, they wanted it to be a slow drowning. Is that even possible?
Come to think of it, this might not be a form of torture at all. Could this be how they drain my powers? Was that my purpose? So, that I could provide them with my wind manipulation powers?
Dadier put me down, rubbed his hands, separated his fingers and massaged the top of my head. Oh goddess, here we go again. The first time I was subjected to this — I-I don't even know what to call this — I was so … perplexed? I think that's an apt description. The massage itself wasn't that painful, sometimes it was even relaxing — I don't know if that was their intent. What baffled me was how the giants conjured this, somewhat, sudsy froth that seemed to emanate from my head. It smelled of menthol, and it felt cold whenever it grazed my skin. An icy burn, if ever a thing like that existed.
The steady rhythm of the water on my skin and the kneading slowly lulled me to sleep. It became a chore to even try to try … to open … my eyes … I, uh—
Wait a minute! Could this be how they siphon my powers? This rubbing, these bubbles — could … Could they be the last remnants of my powers and memory being drained from my body? Mierda!
If this postulate has any merits then I couldn't risk any more of my powers falling into the wrongs hands. I opened my mouth and began ingesting the white foam. Blech! The taste was terrible! But, if that was the only way to resist being robbed of my birthright, I knew I had to make that sacrifice.
It wasn't long until Dadier noticed what I was doing. In an attempt to foil my plan, he crouched even further and wiped away the foam from my mouth.
Already lubricated by the water, I wiggled out of Dadier's grip and hurled a flurry of punches at strategic parts of his body. Not caring about form, all that mattered was that the hits landed on his fleshy hide. The giant guarded against my assault and blinded me to impede my offense. I don't know how he did it, but the substance he used burned through my eyelids. Every time I tried to wipe it out from my eyes, the pain only worsened. It was like poison penetrating through my retinas. The pain was excruciating!
I let out a battle cry to signal my unwillingness to surrender, but it didn't aid at all with the continuation of my assault. My mind told me to blindly throw punches but my hands only preoccupied themselves with scratching my eyes, in hopes of relieving them of the lingering sensation. The pain was sharp and only worsened with every swipe of my fingers. It was so painful that it made me want to pluck out my eyelids.
All of a sudden, a splash! A torrential flow cleared away the poison, and the bubbles that permeated from my head. I tried to make out my surroundings but my vision remained foggy.
Dadier proceeded to massage my body, squeezing out the bubbles from inside me. I squinted and gritted my teeth, but I couldn't mount any resistance. I couldn't even remember why I was resisting at all. My memory — it was slowly being taken from me. I didn't understand why my memory was so important to them, I just—
Wait, what? Memory, resistance, bubbles — I know there's a connection there, I just ... I just don't remember what it is.
Dadier's massage was methodical and precise. He targeted weak points on my body that robbed me of my capability to move. If he wanted to, he could've stopped me from breathing, right then and there. At that moment, it felt like my actions weren't mine. I saw my hands move, but I couldn't control what they did. I felt his rock hard arms as my hands grazed them, I felt the water trickling down his skin. There was a strange calm that came in the absence of resistance. It was soothing, and yet unnatural.
The giant rinsed me and patted me down with a fragrant, blue towel, which he then used on his own body. He adorned himself with a fresh pair of armor, opened the door and allowed me to walk out by myself. I was naked and didn't have the propensity to escape, wandering aimlessly in the anteroom of the fortress.
It had wooden floorboards and its windows were draped with colorful curtains that changed periodically. Strange trinkets littered the floor and boxes that smelled like rubber were piled along the walls. The prison where they held me, Teten and Eddie was located upstairs, and was guarded by Dadier and Mamie — although I'm not quite sure if Mamie was, in fact, a prisoner herself. She had a gigantic frame and had some extent of command over Dadier, but her "guarding" felt different from Dadier's. The downstairs was guarded by several other giants and—
"Ledd," Dadier called to me, interrupting my train of thought. “Come here.”
I trod lightly over the wooden floor, passed the enormous doorway and into the prison cell. It was eerily silent, and I still didn't have full control of my movement. I looked over to Dadier, who was waiting for me with clothes in hand, from a slight distance. He crouched down and garbed me with familiar clothing — denim shorts, and a light blue, printed shirt.
I was groggy from our earlier battle and Dadier seemed to take notice of it. He put on his spectacles and rubbed his nose. Impatient of my slow pace, he hoisted me up in his arms and carried me all the way down to the lower floor of the fortress.
The staircase was steep and often times hard to climb, but the giant traversed it with minimal effort. If he struggled, it didn't show. I fidgeted and tried to release myself from his clutches once again, but like quicksand, the more I struggled, the more his vice grip tightened. He placed his lips against mine to calm me down and sap my energy. His sharp beard abraded my skin. The wooden staircase creaked with every step he took.
A chilling wind pushed against us the farther we traveled down. The sounds from downstairs intensified, incessant chattering that were almost undecipherable. It was unnerving, and my head felt light and almost spinning. I hadn't noticed but my stomach had been grumbling. It was time to eat.
<< Chapter 2
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