Free The Spark by H. G. Howell

going to happen to her and Belle.
    “Oh, don’t you lovelies worry about that now.” The woman smiled kindly, exposing a single tooth tangling by its root. The way she smiled gave Katherine an uneasy feeling. “Just know our great and glorious leader, Syrah, is a very smart man. His plan is our future, and our plan needs you.”
    The rest of the trek back to the cell passed in silence. Katherine racked her brain through aching pain, for she knew the name Syrah had somehow played a big part in her history. It greatly bothered her that she could not think of how she knew the name Syrah. Katherine did not doubt whatever injury plagued her skull was somehow preventing her memory from working properly. Yet still she considered the name, trying to apply it to as few faces she could remember . Ultimately she gave up, letting the throbbing in her head to rest a little.
    They reached their small little abode, which sat as dark and dank as it had before the wonderfully lit, yet socially awkward, bathing chamber. The crone, who continued to smile, held the cell door open.
    “Come lovelies.” She said. “Night awaits.”
    Katherine sighed. She dragged her feet, returning to the musty darkness once more.
    “We don’t want you to go and get a chill now.” The crone said, withdrawing two small rough spun covers from beneath the folds of her robes. She handed the coverings to the waiting women and, with a final smile, pulled the heavy door shut; darkness consumed their world once more.
    Katherine fumbled around, searching for her little spot she would know as her bed. Upon finding it, she realized the straw had been replaced with a fresh layer. Wrapping herself with her little blanket, Katherine lay atop the scratchy surface. It did not take long for sleep to find her.
    As she slept, Katherine was plagued by images of a man with a peculiar sort of lenses. They made love. They fought and talked and they made love again. Without much warning an apparition of a child appeared. It stood behind the man, always looking at Katherine with a deep sadness behind big abyssal eyes. Katherine was reminded of herself as the specter’s face held a familiar softness while retaining the features of the man's face. The child did not remain long, drifting back into obscurity.
    Katherine was wakened several hours later by the screeching sound of the cell door opening and closing. Even though she could not see, she could sense there were several strangers in the room. The shuffling sound of an approaching figure caused her to sit up. There was a clacking of teeth and an awful smell, like that of ale that has been left out to rot.
    “It’s time fer ye t’ play yer part.” The familiar voice of the bald headed man said, touching Katherine’s knee. She could not see him, but she got the sense the man was smiling at her with a hunger in his hidden eyes.
    Suddenly, Belle screamed. She was quickly muffled by a resounding smack. Her whimpering filled the cell as she reeled from the hit. Katherine struggled to look past the shadow of the guard, to check on her cellmate. Katherine did not need to see what was happening, for a methodical, and wet, skin-on-skin sound began to mingle with the other woman’s sobs.
    The hand on Katherine’s knee travelled down towards her newly exposed mound, but stopped short of the outermost lips.
    “I bet ye look mighty fine down there.” Hints of desire laced the bald man’s tones as he kept his fingers at bay. “Mighty fine indeed.”
    His rough hands continued, touching the outermost portion of her lower lips. Katherine’s heart raced, afraid of what was to come.
    “I will make a real woman o’ ye.” He said, shoving his finger inside of her. Silent tears ran down Katherine’s cheeks as his calloused finger violated her again and again.
    “But not yet,” with a mocking tone the man removed his finger and consumed her juices. “No we’ve got t’ follow th’ plan. And tonight, the plan is fer yer lil