Playing With Power

Watching the princess fly away with a heavy flap of her large white wings, he bent at the knees as he sat down on the stone floor. He didn't really understand anything about his cell, but apparently the princess had placed some kind of spell on it, making sure he didn't escape. He hissed as the cold stone touched the bare skin of his legs. Tingles ran up his spine as hairs stood on end.

As he sat down, he turned his head to and fro, making sure he hadn't missed a chair he could sit on instead. "Well, this is prison," he muttered as all his search turned up was grey stone walls. He shrugged. "I guess... this is it." He sat and stared at the stone wall, letting his mind wander.

He waited for what seemed like hours until his stupor was interrupted by a growl that echoed out from inside of him. His eyes snapped open as he grumbled, wiping the drool that hung from his bottom lip with a forearm before reaching down and pushing himself up from the stone floor. He wandered to the edges of his cell, he hummed. "Weird," he said as he looked at a section of his cell that seemed to be missing a wall.

Looking out, he noticed that the gap was intentional as there was a set of stairs just before him. He tried to see if there was anything at the bottom. A thick mist blocked his view of the bottom. When another growl came from within, he rubbed his stomach with a hand. "H-Hello? Is it possible to get some food up here?" He shouted down the steps, his voice echoing in the mist. He had hopes that there was somebody was at the bottom, a guard maybe. But when no reply came, he sighed. Stepping back, he turned around, walking back to his spot on the floor.

Sitting down, he gave a sigh and returned to staring at the wall before him. The grey stone seemed to be carved in a way that went up and curved over him, in a dome like manner. Only to branch off into separate spires. The spires ended with sharp points that hung over him. He shrunk at the sight.

His gaze turned to the ground as he sat back down. Stone, stone, stone, and more stone. He thought with a grumble.

Clutching his gut, he bent at the waist as the grip around his stomach tightened its hold. Heavy gurgling came from within as his body cried out for nourishment.

"Yeah, yeah, I hear you." He was familiar with the feeling of starvation, it was why he was here in the first place.

Getting up from the floor, he walked back over to the set of stairs, peering down into the mist below, he called out. "Hello? Is anybody down there? I'm starving up here."

Nothing.

He glared at the mist, "Come on!" He shouted. "You're just going to let me starve up here?!"

When no answer came back once more, he threw up his arms, only to wrap them around his midsection as the grip around his stomach tightened. A prickling sensation ran throughout his body.

"This is such bullshit," he muttered to himself as he walked back. Laughing lightly as he did so. "Hilarious that I'm about to be starved to death for murder and pseudo cannibalism."

His laughter devolved into whimpers as spears began to stab into his stomach, his hunger had only worsened. "What I would give for a nice juicy steak," he laughed, only to groan as the thought of food only made it worse.

Tossing in his sleep, he mumbled and groaned as his body cried out. Only to jolt upright as pain washed over him as his stomach clawed at itself. Sweat poured from his pale face as he tried to turn his attention away from the pain. Looking at the wall, he began to look towards the future.

"I'll get out, and I'll be the first human to ever encounter aliens." He said with a smile. "If only I could tell my younger self that I met aliens." He almost laughed at the thought.

With a frown, he laid back down. The cold stone floor, a welcome feeling against his aching body.

One moment, there was only darkness. A welcome feeling, calm, warm, as if he was being embraced. The next moment was pain and light, sitting up right, his head darted back and forth, scanning the stone walls that surrounded him.

When would they give him food? Never? Or would they let him shrivel up and rot in here until they need somewhere to put the next prisoner? As the throbbing of his stomach subsided, he hugged his knees, a throaty whine escaping him.

"So thirsty," he whispered to himself as he smacked his dry and cracked lips, his voice hoarse.

"So hungry," a voice whispered.

"So tired."

Turning his head. He looked for the ones who were speaking, but there was no one there.

"Don't leave me," a voice whispered into his ear, the breath hot and wet. Snapping his head around, he looked. Nothing.

"Talk to me."

His heart began to pound in his chest, as if it were trying to escape its meaty confines.

"Please."

How long had he been in here?

"I'm sorry."

Holding his hands over his ears, he tried to block out the voices. But this only seemed to anger them.

"Hungry!" The voice rasped, echoing from all around him.

"Thirsty!" The voice screamed, causing him to fall to his side in pain, the scream echoed in his head. Drumming on his skull.

"Please." The voice whimpered from within.

The voices sounded familiar, yet so strange, so alien.

"I'm sorry!" He screamed in unison, his throat burned at the use, their voices a cacophony of cries and pleas.

As the grey world faded from view, so did the screams. The beating in his chest calming as the sweet embrace of what felt like sleep took hold. His body going numb before the reality around him fell apart.

And in that moment, there was darkness. An embrace filled with warmth and silence. But then, there was light.