Arwyn Olentia had always hated running.
However, as her bare feet slapped against the cutting gravel and chilled wind struck her face, she found that, for once, she was not thinking about the displeasure of the physical act. The chains that had bound and bruised her wrists for the last seven months rattled indiscreetly at her front. Arwyn’s legs were weak from such a period of disuse, but she pushed with strength that seemed to come to her from nothing. It was dark in the unfamiliar streets of the city and she had no way of knowing where to go. She had no one to call, no one to scream for if she was caught. Had they discovered her escape yet? Had she even escaped? She didn’t trust her mind enough to be sure.
There were apartments lining the roads, businesses with their lights shut off. No special enforcement members would be patrolling a nice area like this so late at night. She wouldn’t trust them even if they were. Too much had been revealed to her. And thought from the mouths of criminals, such revelations had come to her truthfully.
Arwyn debated stopping, banging on one of the doors until someone found her in this disheveled, broken, putrid state. But it seemed that there was still a shred of humanity left within her. She would not put an innocent at risk for her own sake. Whoever was unlucky enough to bear the weight of her presence could very well end up dead. She would find somewhere to hide that was far from anyone else.
In the distance, there were mountains. The structures had broad, winding roads that seemed to lead to the peaks. Her mind and body screamed at the prospect of traversing the steep incline, but in her hazy, muddled state, Arwyn could think of no other path to take. The trees would provide ample coverage, possibly a place to rest. She wouldn’t make it very long without stopping. Regardless of the adrenaline coursing through her veins, there was nothing that could completely overpower the months of starvation and the remnants of the poison in her bloodstream. Any of the power she possessed was held down by the chains that bound her wrists. Arwyn grit her teeth and willed her pace to remain steady and quick. She would not let this opportunity go to waste. She would not be taken back.
The eerie quiet of the night was interrupted only by the short pants that left her mouth and the painful slaps of her bare feet hitting the frozen asphalt. Arwyn approached the base of the incline that led to the mountain. She did not stop. Even as rocks dug into the skin of her heels and the brutal wind caused tears to stream from her eyes. The further she got, the less light there was. No streetlights lined the mountain roads. She could feel the numbness beginning to creep in. She looked down at the tattered t-shirt that she wore, one that had once fit snugly but now fell off of her shoulders. The fabric was riddled with holes and Arwyn only once allowed regret to settle in her mind and cursed herself for not stealing any items of warmth or nutrients.
She hadn’t been given time to plan, she hadn’t thought of the possibility of getting out. That hope had only been present in the first months of her captivity, and had weaned slowly as the torture and isolation had taken its tole. It made no sense that she should be out. Not once in the seven months since that night had any of her captors been stupid enough to simply leave the door unlocked. And now that they had, Arwyn couldn’t help but fear that this painful physical exertion was not even grounded in reality. It could all be another farce, another trick to push her to the breaking point of which she would finally give in.
But the illusions were never this painful. There was always a sense of disconnection when experiencing moments in time that did not exist in our reality. This pain felt alive. She could accept nothing other than the fact that this was happening in real time, if she allowed herself to think otherwise it could mean that it was all for naught. She refused to give them that satisfaction.
Arwyn’s legs began to slow, her pace faltering.
“Come on,” she ground out. “Just a little further.”
The second part was a lie, Arwyn was not even at the center of the mountain yet. But she’d lied to herself plenty of times before, at least this one could motivate her some. Suddenly, there was light from up ahead. The yellow glow looked to be coming from a flashlight. Her eyes widened. They couldn’t have beaten her, could they? Had she ran directly to where they’d expected? Arwyn inwardly cursed again. She veered off of the road and into the wooded area that covered the space. She briefly considered climbing a tree, but figured that the chances of her falling out and either killing herself or alerting her followers to her whereabouts were too high to risk.
She wanted to scream. Arwyn’s head pounded and she could feel the immense strain on her body that only worsened with each step. She ignored the discomfort, slowing only enough to keep the sounds of the chain’s rattles to a minimum. She continued up the steep edge of the mountain, unable to think about anything other than the need for her to keep going.
Finally, something happened. Whether it was a good or bad something, Arwyn had yet to find out. Up ahead, between the dark shadows of the evergreen trees, was a tall, iron fence. It looked like the kind of fence that one would build around a high-security prison. But to Arwyn’s knowledge, which admittedly was not very accurate or up-to-date, there were no prisons inside or near the outer edges of the city. Could it be a government facility of sorts? The thought wasn’t necessarily comforting, she didn’t have the greatest impressions surrounding her government or those that worked for it. And she hadn’t ever heard of any government offices on the mountains.
In her turmoil, Arwyn did the most cliche thing that a person could do in a high-stakes chase scene. She tripped over a rock. This specific rock was jagged and embedded itself in the center of her foot with sudden, blinding pain. Arwyn fell to the soft, frozen-over ground and nearly lost the battle fought against the blackness threatening to overpower her consciousness.
She tried to push herself back to standing, her arms shaking with every ounce of effort in her body. She was on her feet for about three seconds before her legs decided to give out without warning. After everything, this was when her body decided to fail her. Arwyn wanted to cry as she hadn’t since she was twelve years old, wrapped in her mothers arms while her brother apologized profusely for accidentally tipping her fishbowl off of the side of her desk. Only now she had no one to hold her, and there was certainly nobody nearby waiting to give her closure with an apology. Arwyn held the tears at bay and began to crawl, dirt embedding itself under her nails as she pulled herself toward the armored fence with painful slowness.
There were footsteps coming from nearby and a brief flash of light passed through the corner of her eye. Arwyn went still. She’d wrap the chains around her neck and pull with the last of her strength before sacrificing her freedom again.
With effort, she rolled to her backside, trying with all her might to sit up. She failed to do so, and as the footsteps got closer, Arwyn raised her shaking hands and positioned the metal around her throat. She would die, if needed. Nothing good would come of it. But she would die with what little dignity remained in her possession.
The blackness in her vision continued to fight, even after losing its earlier battle. She made herself wait for the steps to draw closer, for their owner to step into her line of sight. It took long, tortuous seconds for the face behind the flashlight to be made clear, but when it finally did, Arwyn could do nothing but laugh.
She laughed and laughed, the sound coming out dry, twisted, and hopeless. The person was running toward her now, with a slower pace than someone would expect of a person who had just discovered the malnourished, half-naked, half-dead body of a sixteen year old girl on the side of a mountain. But of course that was the case. What reason did they have to run? They thought her too selfish to die. In many ways, they were right. This final act of desperation came not from a desire to help anyone other than herself.
Arwyn pressed the thick metal into the skin of her neck and allowed darkness to claim its long-awaited victory.
