I was used to the dark. And the cold. I'd lost track of how many days, weeks, or possibly, years, I'd spent in this cold stone cell, knowing nothing but isolation, seeing nothing but darkness. Somewhere, deep in the dungeon, I heard screams. A whip cracked and the screams grew louder, more agonized.

I closed my eyes, leaning against the wall of stone at my back. Water dripped down from the ceiling and landed on my cheek, chilling my fevered skin. I shivered involuntarily and brought my knees to my chest, wrapping my bony arms around them tightly.

Suddenly, the screaming stopped. An eerie silence fell over everything, and I knew the man would not scream again. I would have cried over the death of this stranger (who was most likely innocent), if I'd just been imprisoned here, but I'd been here longer than I could count, it no longer fazed me like it once did..

When I'd first been brought here, I cried often. I cried over my predicament and my imminent demise, I cried for those that I could hear being tortured in the chambers not far from me, I cried because I was scared and because there were others, in situations like mine, that were scared too. But, with the passing of time, I'd hardened. My emotions had hidden away in a dark corner of my icy heart and could not be reached.

My ears pricked, my eyes flying open, at the sound of the lock clicking. I straightened, awaiting the announcement of my visitor, dreading what he would say next.

"She asked for you." The deep voice grumbled. And, before I could respond, two large hands wrapped around my arms, on either side of me, and hauled me up. I was pulled out of the cell and led down the long corridor and to the stairs. The two creatures that held me were smaller than me, but were deadly, all the same. Their razor-sharp claws dug into my flesh, holding a silent warning. If I even moved wrong, my death was guaranteed. I had never learned exactly what kind of creatures these two were. They were both slightly hunched over with long, beaked noses, and beady eyes. Their skin was purple and more wrinkled than crumpled parchment. Their ears were large and were uncannily like the ears of a bat.

"Walk," the one on my left growled, yanking me forward. I stumbled but they held me upright so I did not fall.

I knew where we were going. I could walk this path backwards with my eyes closed. I'd been down here far more times than I could count. We reached the throne room, where I could hear the sounds of laughter and chatter filtering out into the hallway.

The throne room was a large chamber, with a crystal chandelier lit by thousands of candles. The floor was made of polished black marble and occasional designs in gold. The walls were lined with tapestries of stories that had long since been forgotten. One tapestry portrayed a small girl being crowned by angels. Another one showed the death of some, once great king.

I was brought inside, where the crowd parted and I was given a clear path to the throne where she sat.

Mariana sat on her throne, her head high, and her golden hair seemed to shimmer in the torchlight. A crown of bones sat upon her head, framing a large ruby, the color of blood. Her hair was braided into the crown of bones, securing it to her head. Her eyes, as black and fathomless as her soul, fell on me, and her pink lips turned up at the corner, in a sort of malicious smile. Mariana was the most beautiful faerie I'd ever seen. Though, exterior beauty was the only kind she'd ever achieve. She was hateful and angry, her soul as black as tar. Her favorite pastime involved torturing the innocent men and women she kept locked up in the dungeons. She was evil in every sense of the word and everyone feared her for it.

Every pair of eyes in the room were on me as I was thrown onto the marble floor before her. I pressed my lips together as she examined me, dragging out the scrutiny, seeing how long it took until I would break. But I never broke.

"Lyra," she cooed, smiling. "How lovely it is to see you."

This earned soft laughter from her court, gathered around me, though I could not find any humor in this.

"Mariana," I replied evenly.

Her smile grew. "We'd grown bored and thought we would call for some . . . entertainment."

My stomach knotted at the word.

She pulled off one of her many bracelets and it unraveled into a long, gold whip. It had not been that long to begin with; she'd obviously used magic to turn it into a whip.

The thought only made my stomach tighten more.

"Now," she said, her voice a soft purr. "Dance." The whip cracked against my ankle and I yelped, jumping backwards.

The gathered crowd laughed tauntingly as Mariana cracked the whip again and I jumped to avoid it. She grinned viciously and the whip sang through the air, wrapping around my leg.

I tumbled forward, landed with my face against the black marble beneath me.

More laughs.

My cheeks heated but I did not say anything.

"Get up," Mariana hissed, and the tip of the whip cut into my back.

I bit back my cry as she brought the whip back and lashed me once more. I pulled myself off of the ground as she went to whip me a third time.

Her mouth turned up at the corner; the only sign that she was enjoying this immensely.

I "danced" for the better part of an hour before she'd grown bored. That was when she made me kneel before her—I did not have enough time, before her two guards shoved me forward onto my knees—where she, then, proceeded to whip me.

I bit my tongue so hard that I tasted blood, in an effort to keep from screaming at the pain that tore through me with each crack of the whip.

She laughed softly as she brought the whip down on my back again.

"Come, now, pet," she said patronizingly. "It's no fun when you pretend you can take it."

I only pressed my lips together more firmly, refusing to give in to the agony. After she'd given me eight more lashes, she retracted the whip.

She sighed and wiped the bloody, razor tip of the whip on a handkerchief she'd pulled out of thin air, before wrapping it around her wrist once more, where it acted as a bracelet. She waved her hand toward me, no longer interested.

"Take her." She said, authority radiating in the tone of her voice.

Without question, the two guards wrapped their bony fingers around my arms and dragged me toward the door.

I struggled to stand on my own, pain running through me like fire. I closed my eyes stumbling along, only held upright by the two creatures that held me in a firm, unrelenting grip.

We reached the cool stone dungeon beneath the palace and they threw me in my cell. I lay on the icy stone floor, unable to move, for the pain in my back. My blood was already chilled by the cold air, and I shivered, curling up to preserve heat.

I was Mariana's pet. She only used me as entertainment, to keep her boredom at a minimum. I was brought up to the large throne room, often, so that the other faeries could laugh at my pain and mock me for it. I hardly cared what any of them thought, I merely resented the fact that their amusement came at my expense.

I only prayed that she killed me soon, so I did not have to suffer anymore.

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This was the end of Chapter One of On the Other Side! I really hope you like it so far! Let me know what you think, I am always open to feedback! That goes for if you see grammatical errors as well. Another thing: the title is temporary. I don't think it fits that well with my story, so if you have any ideas please tell me! You can message me privately, leave a comment, or post on my page!

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