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Weekly Contest #84
As each day greyed into one, Vashtin wondered how long it had been since his capture. Since he’d screamed Run and Hide to the naïve Guardian. Days had stretched interminably since then. Boredom punctuated only by violence and interrogation but little more. Nothing of what made life worth living. If he had paper and pen, he would have been able to make some sense of what had happened to him. What was still happening to him. Anything would be better than being stuck in limbo, waiting to be killed or tortured. Vashtin had long since given up...
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