Yep. I wanted a prompt, I picked a random word and it was soap. Now, I could easily make something cute and fun with it – the question is, can I make it creepy as hell instead?
Let’s see.
(cw: captivity, cuts, mind control, hero whumpee/villain whumper, lady whumpee/whumper, nothing graphic but serious contender for the most disturbing thing I've written here)
*
Seer combed her hair with her fingers as best as she could.
She succeeded to make a braid. Moving slowly – oh so slowly – she laid down her hands, anticipating the moment they’d touch the floor.
It hurt. It hurt all over. Every move costed her. Every day Villainess came to her cell with a knife and cut her. Scratches. None of them was deep or serious, just enough to make her bleed. One of them wouldn’t have been a problem, but there were now dozens, possibly hundreds. Her arms and legs and face and back and torso were marked all over. Not a place on her skin that wasn’t invaded – and she really felt it as an invasion, someone claiming her body as property, inch by inch.
Every position was intolerable, so sleeping was more and more challenging. It wasn’t only because of the pain. What kept her awake was the fear of some possible infection. It was cold behind the bars, and colder were the stone floor and walls. The sleeveless tunic they made her wear did nothing to protect her from it. The humidity didn’t help either. She raised her eyes towards the drops forming above the bar, the water shivering and finally falling. Ploc. Ploc. Ploc.
Yet she combed and braided her hair, like she always did. She was still here, and her brain was safe behind her scorched skin, full of memories and feelings. She only needed to close her eyes to become herself.
Before she had been kidnapped, she had bought a muffin at her favorite bakery and she still saw the smile of the lady who had sold it to her and felt how good that first firm bite had been. She had just got a little place on the last floor of a building, with large windows offering her a good view on the town and wonderful sunsets. When the heroes didn’t need her, she had a little shop online where she sold crochet plushies and objects. Her last project was a blanket covered with suns because she liked yellow. It was probably still waiting for her in her living room, taking dust on her sofa. She had a sister who lived in another town. Last year they had celebrated the birth of her first nephew.
She remembered all of this, and did not break.
Villainess knew it. Villainess lost her cool bit by bit. She thought the prisoner would collapse in a few days. Seer wasn’t a fighter in any way, had already a skinny figure before this. Nevertheless, she welcomed her captor quietly, meeting her eyes without anger or fear.
Of course Seer sobbed during the night. Of course she screamed. But she always wiped out her tears before anyone could see it, and that was the most important.
One day, Villainess had spat on her:
“It won’t buy you anything. None of the heroes are going to save you.”
“I know. I asked them not to.”
“You shouldn’t have bothered. Do you think you matter? They’ve already forgotten you.”
This time, Seer had smiled at her deliberately. She hadn’t said “and yet I’m still alive”, but Villainess knew what she was thinking.
“For one little seer, you are one pain in the ass,” she had hissed, grinding her teeth.
“Thank you.”
Seer had sent her back a serious gaze. Behind her lids, she had always seen wars, slaughters, storms drowning adults and children, volcanoes burning towns away. She could stand a little taunting.
“I’ve never seen your power either,” she’d noticed.
Villainess had paused and smiled:
“Oh, haven’t you?” she’d said slowly, leaving the place without another word.
Now Seer waited for her captor to come back. Her head leaned against the wall, her eyes squinted shut, she was watching some pleasant memories from some friends. She couldn’t peek in her own timeline. Even if she looked at someone else’s future or past, she couldn't see her presence. She had no idea if she had dared anyway.
The main door creaked. Villainness appeared, waving behind her.
“A little gift.”
Huffing and puffing like some fairy tale wolves, two henchmen arrived, carrying a huge white thing. Seer shook her head to make sure she wasn’t dreaming, but it was indeed an old bath tub. The clapping of the water confirmed that it was full. The word “waterboarding” came to her head without warning, and she recoiled, but she was wrong. The two men left without a word. She pushed a button that lifted the bars over her head. Seer blinked and stared at Villainess, completely lost.
“All yours,” said her captor. “Get clean, or I’ll take care of it myself.”
She also left, slamming the door, leaving Seer frozen by surprise.
She didn’t like it. She didn’t like it at all. It was a trap. It had to be one. She considered staying where she was, but then a mental picture of her been forcibly dragged into the tub changed her mind. Biting her lip, she scuttled to the bath, walking on her toes not to apply pressure on her scratched soles.
She looked around. No one. Nobody could gawk at her or try to drown her. The tub was indeed old, but it seemed harmless. There wasn’t any place to hide a death machine – she scolded herself for such a ridiculous thought. She dipped the tip of her fingers. The water was a bit too hot, but not scalding either. Soon enough it would be the perfect temperature. Maybe they want me nice and clean for a special occasion or visitor, she supposed. Maybe what I have to fear comes after the bath.
She went in, rags and all. The tunic needed a good cleaning too.
It was both wonderful and awful. First it felt like she was set on fire. All the cuts were burning at the same time, and the water seemed much too warm. Then the first sting had faded, and her skin could register the soft warmth and gentle touch of water. If she wasn’t so tired, she would have burst in tears with relief. It felt like an embrace, and everything was well in the world. The water turned brown, greasy, then red, and she blushed in shame. Much more would be needed to feel clean.
A huge soap bar, bigger than both her fists clenched, was waiting for her at the edge of the tub. It was plain white and glistened under the pale light of the bare bulb. Its fragrance was strange, not exactly flowery, but it smelled wonderful nevertheless. It reminded her of the Sundays of her childhood, when she was doing the laundry with her baby sister. She squinted at it, but didn’t take it, half because of spite, half because of fear. It was all too strange. Leaning back, she enjoyed the warmth. It was already fading in the cold room.
She thought about the possibility of infection again, and a shiver ran through her skin. Water was fine and good, but she needed something else to wash her cuts. A soap wasn’t the best option, but it was much better than nothing.
She trailed her fingers on the slimy, slippery thing, toying with the idea, not yet committed to it. Could a soap be poisoned? She didn’t think so. Besides, she didn’t see the point. She was already at the villains’ mercy. They could kill her whenever they wanted.
She pulled away her hand, rubbing the fingers that had been in contact with the soap. Though there was no way that someone could sneak in the small room, she looked around furtively before joining her thumb and index in a circle, blowing on it. A bubble formed and flied through her hand to the warm water, popping on the edge of the tub. Seer smiled. Traces of soap floated at the surface before mixing up with the water that surrounded her.
Cringing with anticipation, she grabbed the bar and rubbed it against the cut that worried her the most – it was long and near her armpit and didn’t heal at all. Mollified by the water, the soap left a trace against her elbow like a slug and began to foam. A white, thick array of bubbles appeared, like saliva from an enraged beast. She raised her eyebrow, surprised, and rubbed a little more.
It didn’t hurt. It didn’t hurt at all. She stopped and saw the scratch had paled.
She glanced at the soap, and used it again on her knee. It melted, letting its substance into her raw flesh, mixing with dry blood. She stared at the cut until it healed. The soap was literally magical.
Relief overwhelmed her, leaving her numb. She had forgotten how comfort felt, what it meant to move without suffering. How much her despair and anger had weighted on her. She collected the foam from her hands and washed her face absentmindedly.
What was the last thing she remembered before? A muffin? A muffin, really. Well, that was kind of worthless, and certainly a silly thing to cling to. She didn’t even like them very much and had only bought it by spite. They were mundane and bad for your health. Why keep this in mind? Memories were pain and thinking was pain and she was sick of being hurt. It didn’t help. It would never help. Only actions mattered. She rubbed the soap against her body avidly, at every place she could find, until she covered every pore with it.
The water was now white, thick with soap. It clapped around her, soaking her hair to the forehead, entering and going out of her ears. She felt as if she was floating away, far from any problem. A protective white layer around her prevented her to think bad thoughts.
She let it go. She let it all go. It was such a wonderful feeling. She was as light as a feather.
Yet something far under her conscious thoughts was shivering inside her, screaming at her to pay attention, like it happened sometimes when she forgot her tickets or keys. She frowned, trying reluctantly to decipher that alarming sign. By force of habit, she closed her eyes and saw a young woman that looked familiar...yes, now that she concentrated, it was her sister. She was with some random toddler Seer might have seen before.
She tried to sit up to focus, but the slippery water dragged her down instead. Her head went under the water, and she couldn’t repress a scream of surprise. Liquid poured inside her mouth and nostrils, and she emerged again to the surface, spitting and coughing, a thick taste of soap in her throat.
Oh well. Why did it matter anyway? Her sister was away and happy in her house while forgetting about her. Her sister didn’t have to worry about her execution or worse. Probably they would never see each other again – not that either would care. The past was in the past. The conclusion brought her tremendous relief. Only the present mattered, and it was a good present. She was full of gratitude and joy. Finally, something had taken her burden away.
She closed her eyes in delight. Pretty pictures flashed behind her lids. They had no meaning to her. Funny men were sleeping on the ground, covered with red paint. She giggled. Her brain was a lovely white. Her skin was smooth and so were her thoughts.
She was clean.
When Villainess entered, she found her in the cold water with empty eyes.
“Are you going to be nice, now?” she asked.
Seer raised her head, a smile plastered on her face.
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