Darkness: Chapter 16 - Insidious

The smell was intolerable, nearly. Tanning was a slow, tedious process that was made all the harder by having no way of seeing what your hands were achieving.

When that... dreaded bow, is strung...

He felt sickness rise in his chest but suppressed it. The feeling had forced it, not the smell. Though urine in such volumes, especially after so long, could overwhelm the senses if not well minded.

Persevere.

A little known and over-looked fact when turning hide to leather, was tanning it in Urine. And so he did, this batch in the natural stone basin had been soaking for a whole day as its surface tightened and hardened. The main chamber had become his workshop, sat at its side while he used its natural rocky shapes for his craft. His hands nimbly wove the previous batch he had cut and shaped into lengthy strips for his purpose.

Turn, twist, pull...

Turning strands of leather into lengths of rope without the use of his eyes had at first been problematic. However, as time wore on, he’d become deft if occasionally frustrated with it. Though patience was still required, and often tested.

...At last your, your...

His mind whirled, placing the strands of hide down. Nausea nearly overwhelmed him before he slammed his fist on the ground. A snarl escaped him as he tightened his grip around a climbing pin he had fashioned.

Concentrate.

He turned his attention, placing the top of the femur on the ground to begin grinding the tip of the bone into a flat wedge. He had to shape each of the pile into a particular shape, a unique way, for a specific purpose. The largest, two massive thigh bones would take time, one in particular would make a fine weapon.

Each has to be done perfectly, none can be wasted.

He grumbled, considering the plan in his head. Firstly the Kor’kron threw unlucky victims into this place to either be eaten by previous inmates or to go mad from starvation. Second, they had marked every tunnel and surface with wicked runes to keep spirits and magic at bay. Finally, they would be stripped of everything, only the barest of rags would follow them down giving them no way to pool resources for a climb.

it can be climbed, they knew it could, that is why they stripped us.

All cliffs and rocks could be climbed, it was merely a matter of patience, agility and ingenuity. As well as proper tools of course, and now he at least had some, macabre as they may be, he had to tolerate the morbid nature of his choices.

The spirits will be done. The spirits will it, you obey it. The spirits will be done...

He felt the sickness stir in his gut once more. It was a swirling  bile of liquids rising and surging within. It demanded to be let loose but he didn’t have time for it now, time was too precious to be wasted on being disgusted with this, all of it. But telling himself was not enough, as a sensation he had not felt since the internment camps came to him.

What is this...

It began upon his face, from his left eye. It then wound down his cheek toward his chin. Moist and cool, a stutter of air escaped his lips. He had to stifle the emotion that was surfacing, pushing it back down before it overwhelmed him.

No more. Press on, now.

He spat, snorted, and resumed his work.

There is no other option. None.