The Corda
Acacia wasn’t sure quite how much longer she could take it.
Not a very elaborately conceived strappado, she should have been able to take the pain naturally and without much struggle; the girl was used to it. Somehow this was slightly worse than before and it wasn’t obvious what exactly made this difference notable.
It could have been perhaps that instead of the more elegant agony of being suspended by both arms onto a secondary rope, she instead had both arms bound to a thick wooden bar with layers upon layers of that awful sisal rope basically fusing her wrists into place.
Now, slowly but surely, her shoulders were being wrenched out of place whether she could fight it or not. Acacia’s face closed in a trembling grimace and her skin turned pale and clammy as she exhaled in quivering breaths. So awful was the pain now she was quite certain it had been at least an hour that had passed since her torture began.
Those merciless ghouls hadn’t even spared the opportunity for her to relieve the pain since her toes could only barely graze the ground. She inhaled sharply and leaned her head back to comfort the aching shoulders, sucking her clenched teeth - or, rather, what was more of a terribly guttural wheeze.
Just breathe. It’ll be over soon.
Desperately and quite shamelessly, her body contorted against the new unpleasant warmth that now thundered through her muscles and she let her thin lips part for only a second to gasp at the spasm. Yes, this was dreadful.
It’ll be over soon.
This was the mantra she kept repeating. It was the only thing left.
It’ll be over soon.
