Utter Darkness

“159, 152, 145, … 13…8, … … 1…3…1”

“Odd greeting, 124?” His gravelly voice cut through her and she gasped. “Hello Darcy.”

His voice sent shivers down her spine, ‘Hot damn, even his voice sounded dangerous!’ He had a kinda British accent and the way he said her name was wicked. The growly rasp of his voice was low and animalistic. It gave her all kinds of butterflies. “Bad thoughts, Darcy bad thoughts, change the subject!’ “Hey, how you feeling?” She asked softly.

“My throat is parched, and my shoulders ache.” He paused for a moment. “Who are you? Why are you here? What is your purpose here?” he growled. He wanted answers, she confounded him, and he wanted the truth. He focused on the sounds of her movements, on the sounds of her breathing. He could not see her, but even in blindness the god of lies, could sense truth or falsity. The single distant star provided no light of consequence; it merely served as a reference point in the darkness.

“I’m nobody really, but I guess I already told you my name is Darcy. As for why I’m here, I really don’t know. At first, I thought this was all a dream, but now I’m not so sure. I woke up with blood on my hands, your blood.” Her mouth opened and closed a few times, as though she struggled to find the right words. “Like I said before, I feel like I’m here to help you, but I’m really not sure how.”

“You have already helped immensely, by releasing the stitches that bound my mouth.” He grinned, though his lips were still healing and it burned a bit. “I don’t suppose you have any skill at picking locks, do you?”

“What, why would you need something like that?” she stuttered.

He rattled the bonds behind him. “I am bound,” he answered simply.

Fighting the weightlessness, she flailed around until she was behind him. Carefully she reached out trying not to jar him, and tested his restraints. His arms were pulled back behind him. There were thick metal cuffs on his wrists, chained to a pole that held his hands about a foot apart. The top pole was connected to two other poles, in the shape of a capital letter i. The bottom pole held his feet about a foot apart as well, ending with chains that bound each ankle in a thick metal cuff like the ones on his wrists. Somebody really didn’t want this guy getting loose. She worked her way back around to the front of him. Her voice was soft and timid, “Why are you bound?”

He was quiet as he contemplated his answer. He hated being reliant on anyone, but now he found himself completely at her mercy. She was from Midgard, one of the realms he had attacked. Though it had been millennia since the attack, her people may still carry anger and hatred towards him. The truth would have her seeking retribution instead of the kindness she seemed wont to bestow on him now. A lie seemed far more prudent. “I was captur…” but the words froze in his throat causing him to gag and cough, a terrible rasping sound.

“Oh my gosh,” she gasped. “Here, I brought water; I thought you might be thirsty.”

He pulled away in panic, his throat closing up as he tried to lie to say that he was fine.

“No you’re not fine,” she barked, and grabbed hold of his shoulder, her grip so sharp it nearly brought tears to his eyes. “Hey,” He continued to thrash around. “HEY!” she shouted. He finally went still. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay, just calm down and drink some water and we’ll talk about it. I’m sure whatever’s going on can’t be all that bad.” She said soothingly.

Her grip gentled and her hand slid up from his shoulder to his neck, her thumb resting lightly at the corner of his lips. He allowed her to pour some of the water into his mouth. The cool water soothed his raw and aching throat. He could feel as the water rushed through his system healing and refreshing him. He moaned in pleasure as he felt some relief to the constant ache that had plagued him for millennia. She gave him another drink, and he could feel his body rehydrating. He felt renewed. The water seemed to heal him far more the few sips that she had given him should. He pulled away from her, “What magic is this?”

“What are you talking about? It’s just water.” But as she thought about it, his voice sounded different, the heavy rasp was gone and as he spoke, his voice wrapped around her like the smoothest satin.

“That is far more than water, I feel rejuvenated. Who are you really, and what have you done?” He hissed softly, but it seemed far more sinister than had he yelled.

“I didn’t do anything I swear! It’s just water!” she insisted.

He could sense her trepidation but also her honesty. As far as she was aware, it was truly just water that she shared with him. Perhaps it was nothing to do with the water but with the girl herself then. Her touch though painful, healed him, and the simple water she offered him renewed him. Her fear was detrimental to her continued assistance though, he needed to reassure her. “My apologies, my lady,” he purred. “I have been lied to in the past, and I merely sought the truth. I can see now you have spoken the truth. Are you a healer?”

She snorted, “Me, a healer? No way, I’m just a lab assistant.” He had some serious mood swings, and it felt like he was trying to avoid the question. “So why are you bound?”

The god of lies found himself incapable of lying; each attempt caused his tongue to stick to the roof of his mouth. The lie gagged him; he choked on the attempt. He coughed and gagged and she offered him another drink of water. His head drooped. “I am a criminal, and I am bound for my crimes,” he finally whispered feeling defeated.

“How long have you been bound like this? What could you have done to deserve a punishment like this?” She reached toward him and gently laid her hand on his cheek. “Your skin is so cold,” she whispered almost as an afterthought.

As it had last time, her touch was like fire on his cold flesh; though it burned, it also soothed him. Her tenderness surprised him. “I have been bound for over three thousand years.”

She gasped and pulled back. “How is that possible? Your mouth was stitched shut; you would have starved to death.”

Her retreat brought both comfort and pain. While the release of the searing warmth of her hand was a relief, the fact that she recoiled from him, hurt in a way he was unfamiliar with. “I am not human. I am of As…” His tongue stuck, “I am from Jot…” again his tongue stuck. She gave him another drink as he contemplated his answer. He was confused, he could understand that part of his punishment would be to prevent him from lying, but why then could he not tell her where he was from? “I am not human; I do not require nourishment to live.”

She was quiet for a long time as she thought about what he said. When she spoke, he could hear the hesitation in her voice. “What did you do? What was so terrible that you’ve hung here in this, this dark void, trussed up like this, with your mouth sewn shut, for three thousand freaking years? I can’t think of anything awful enough to deserve this.”

He slowly told her his tale though he was incapable of using any names, names of the realms, of the All-Father, Thor, Frigga, not even his own name. His story came out haltingly, as he had to try several different ways to explain. “There are many different planets, and from the beginning there was one that considered itself greater than all the others. About four thousand years ago, another planet decided to take over a third planet. The first planet came to the aid of the third. Defeating the people of the second planet on the third, the war followed the second planet’s people back to their home. The people of the first planet came to the second planet and completed their victory over the people of the second planet. The king of the first planet took the second planet’s greatest weapon. While on the second people’s planet, the king found an abandoned infant, the bastard son of the second people’s king. The second people were a monstrous race, and the infant was small and so, seen as unfit to live. So the king took the infant and raised him as his own, the boy was only a few years younger than the king’s first-born, and so the boys grew up together, neither knowing the younger boys true origin.

As the boys grew the elder brother was big, strong, and brave and the younger was small for his age and though very clever and a skilled strategist, he was physically weaker than others his own age. In a society that prized strength and valor the younger son was seen as pitiful and was mocked. He lived always in the shadow of a brother that loved him immensely but in a world that would never accept the strengths of the mind as opposed to the strengths of the body.” He took a deep breath and she gave him another drink of water. He hated his own history, and the fact that he needed to tell her about it, galled him. He needed her help though and from her rapt attention he knew that revealing this to her was one way to gain her sympathy and his sad story might gain him his ultimate end, freedom.

“My history was not always pleasant. My saga was affected by those who sought to use me for their own gain. When we were grown men the truth about my parentage came out in the worst possible way and at the worst possible time. I had always felt ostracized and I went mad. The people of the first planet considered the people of the second planet to be monsters, and raised their children with that belief. I had been raised to believe that the second race was monsters, and so I believed myself to be a monster, and set out in my madness to prove just how monstrous I could be. Regicide, patricide, fratricide, and genocide all these things did I attempt in the madness that ensued. All told when I was finally captured almost two years later, there were almost a thousand deaths caused by my actions, the man whom I had once called brother had nearly been counted amongst the dead, and the king of the second planet, my true father was dead. And so by the decree of the man I once called father, I was bound and my mouth sewn shut. His words were ‘The boy I once knew is dead. What remains is a creature I do not recognize.’ Had it not been for the woman who raised me, he would have likely put me to death. She begged for my life and so instead he cast me here into the void, where I have remained for some 3,250 years.” He took a ragged breath and she gave him a drink of water. Her compassion surprised him.

“Whoa, dang dude. I don’t even know what to say, that’s all kinds of messed up.” She sighed heavily. “Just a heads up, I’ve been here for a while so I’m probably gonna wake up soon. I can’t pick a lock but I might be able to find some bolt cutters. However, right now I’m kinda under surveillance. My friends freaked out when I woke up with blood on my hands. As for all the rest, I don’t even know I mean betrayal and mental illness are big contributing factors here, but wow, you didn’t just go Columbine, you went 9/11. This is really big.”

“I’m not sure what you’re referring to…”

“Oh, yeah sorry earth stuff. Look, I don’t know if I should help you. You told me all about all this terrible stuff you did, and I heard a lot of excuses but not really any regret. And don’t tell me how sorry you are now cause it’s not gonna feel genuine. I’m not bringing the bolt cutters till I know I’m not making a huge mistake by helping you. I need to know if I can trust you…” she floundered. “What’s your name?”

As he tried to speak, his tongue locked tight, no matter what name or pseudonym he tried to give her all he could do was cough and gag. “My apologies again my lady, but it appears that I am forbidden to tell you my name, every time I try to tell you my name my throat closes up.”

“Hmm, not really helping with the whole trust thing. How do I know you’re not lying?”

“When I try to lie or revel anything to you that might give away my identity, I gag on my own tongue. It’s quite the fitting punishment for someone once known for their ability to lie, and to manipulate with words.”

“So is that why your story was so vague?” She smirked, she enjoyed the back and forth with him.

“Yes, it appears that complete anonymity, is my punishment for my desire for prominence.” She was certain that had he not been bound his arms would be crossed in front of him and he was probably pouting. “However you may be able to guess my name.” He offered almost as an afterthought.

“Oh wait, I know this one! Your name is…” she paused for dramatic effect, “Rumpelstiltskin!” she dissolved into a fit of the giggles.

“You are very strange, and that is not my name.”

“Oh come on, it was meant as a…” she vanished and in her wake, there were two new stars.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

“…joke. Awww, dangit!” she grumbled. She rolled over and found the other side of the bed empty; it looked like Jane had never come to bed at all. She laid there in the quiet and thought about everything he had said. He was an alien and he was a criminal. She was seriously thinking about helping a guy who had caused almost a thousand deaths. But, then again, he had been punished for over three thousand years for it, and his punishment, especially the part about his mouth being sewn shut and so no food or water for the whole time, definitely fell under of the category of cruel and unusual. She was sure they didn’t even go that medieval in medieval times. It seemed like what she always imagined purgatory to be like. She had been raised Catholic, though she wasn’t sure what she believed in anymore. Meeting an alien that ancient people thought of as the god of thunder kinda had a weird effect on blind faith.

One thing she was sure of though, she was probably going to keep having these quasi-dreams and whether she helped him or not, she wasn’t telling anyone else about it. They already thought she was weird enough. She smiled up at the blurry ceiling tiles. The alien criminal, was hers, they were connected somehow, and even if all she ever did was talk to him in her dreams for the rest of her life, even if she never helped him to get free, this was hers. Her one little bit of something that no one else had, or could do. There had to be some reason that she was being drawn to him. She sat up and put on her glasses, next to her on the bed was the half-empty water bottle, and it was still sealed.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The stars were an interesting development. Did they mean something or were they unimportant? He wasn’t certain of anything anymore. She was a simple Midgardian mortal; her touch burned yet it also healed him. She offered him water and it renewed him. She came to him in her dreams and yet was as corporeal as he was. She surprised him; he thought for certain his tale of woe would sway her to his side. He could not lie, but he still had his silvertongue, truth could be manipulated. Mortals were usually so easy to sway but she held her ground, she was not convinced simply by his tale that he was truly a changed man.

As he hung there, he thought about it. Was he a changed man? The blinding fury at the All-Father’s betrayal no longer gnawed at him. He did regret his actions though he had not had the opportunity to speak about it with the girl. In the last few centuries, he had come to accept that though he still despised the way Odin had handled everything, he could see the All-Father’s reasoning. The burning desire for vengeance had fizzled out, and all in all, he felt hollow. Only the girl’s presence soothed him, and now he had months to wait till he would see her again.

Notes