Night Terror

(CW: Icky dialogue and implied torture.)
 
Dark. Cold. A cave? Metal. A cage. Solis tries to move and can’t. Chains. Metal bands around his arms and legs and neck. They’re heavy. So very heavy. How long had he been here? It's so dark. No sun. No light.
 
Voices. The door is opening. The light from outside the room is blinding. People are approaching. But the light behind them is too bright, Sol can’t see their faces. All he can make out is how large they are. They’re looking at him though. The word handlers passes through his mind.
 
“Honestly, why’d Phyrra spend money on this thing? Some silk clad concubine from a noble house? Waste o’ gold if ya ask me. Look at it. Pathetic.”
 
The voice is gruff. Cold. It comes from the larger handler. They open the gate of the cage. Sol triest to pull himself up only to be met with a boot to the chest.
 
“Stay down, freak. You move when I tell ya. Not before.”
 
The handlers are undoing the chains, each one clattering to the ground in turn. Sol’s wrists feel sore. His throat chafed. The other handler is talking now, laughter on the edge of his voice.
 
“Well if issa concubine maybe we ought-” his words are cut off by a slap.
 
“Get yer mind outta the gutter. You know damn well Phyrra doesn’t like us playing with her things like that. You wanna be out of a job?” The larger man turns his attention back on Solis. “Up.” he snarls.
 
Sol hesitates. He’s kicked again. “I said up! Don’t make me repeat myself again.” Sol complies, scrambling to get to his feet. How long has it been since he’s stood upright? His legs feel boneless. He feels his arms get yanked out in front of him as a set of manacles is put in place.
 
“Well it’s not like it can fight. Somefin like that’s only useful for pleasure if ya ask me,” Sol can hear the snear in the smaller handler's voice.
 
“Not up to us. Now help me get this sorry sack-o’-shite to the chamber.”
 
Sol is pulled forward. He walks with shaky steps as they leave the room. His tail, once lively, drags on the floor behind him. The smaller handler is laughing.
 
“Well I guess we find out if he was a waste than aye? Watching that shit kill him’ll be a show for sure. Shame though. Coulda used him as bait for one o’ the beasts.”
 
Solis tunes out the rest of the conversation. His ears are ringing. He’s going to die here? Alone? He stops walking but the handlers yank him forward. He wants to fight. He tries to fight. But he’s never fought anything before. He’s easily overpowered. Bashed into a wall, kicked again, and again. He can’t walk anymore. They drag him down the hall instead.
 
----
 
The chamber is a small stone room. He remembers this much. There were others? Animals? People? He doesn’t know. His manacles are gone. The Handlers are gone.
 
Then it starts. The pain. Something is burning in his lungs. A poison? A gas? He can’t see anything in the air. The burning sensation is spreading through his veins. He looks down, he can see them glowing through his skin. Trails of liquid flame. Something is wrong. He can’t think. A narcotic? A spell? He needs to get out. He claws at the walls. Are they closing in? The pain is too much. His lungs are filled with smoke, it’s burning his eyes. His entire body is on fire. He’s screaming. He’s snarling. Something snaps. All he can see is the color red. All he can smell is blood and burning flesh. It’s not just him screaming anymore.
 
-----
 
He's brought abruptly back to consciousness by a hand jostling him. His initial reaction is to lash out, hurt whatever is attacking him, make it pay. But his eyes land on Zel and he manages to stop himself in time, just barely. His eyes wild with terror and one, clawed, hand raised to strike. He was dreaming? He’d been screaming?
 
The memory of the dream itself is leaving him but the echo of pain remains. He’s torn. On one hand he wants comfort. On the other he wants to scream at Zel to get away from him. Instead he shakes his head to try to shake the lingering sounds of screaming out of his ears and says, in a shaky croak of a voice, “I’ll be fine.”
 
After all, the mines are under attack. There’s no time to dwell on dreams.