A Cage without Bars
The room was not locked, the door left mockingly ajar, clear laughter heard from beyond. Yet Indigo could not move an inch towards freedom. Wards and glyphs, runes and sigils, painted in goats blood adorned the walls preventing her from approaching the door. Like a magnet that repelled it’s polar partner, Indigo was forced back from the door by the power of the bloodstained symbols. Attempting to leave caused her to feel nauseous, dizzy and faint. Whoever had painted the walls had a very strong understanding of her craft, particularly the more negative side of magic, the forbidden rites, manipulation, control, the alteration of will power.
Sickness and disease stained the darkened blood, traits that only strengthened the negative energy that restrained Indigo stronger than any rope or chains ever could. She resigned herself to such a gloomy fate, seated herself directly in the centre of the room where the effects were less obnoxious. Yet she felt a heavy weight push down upon her, increasing her discomfort, glancing up Indigo noticed an exceptionally nasty symbol which drew her magical energy from her very soul.
Eventually she was forced by the surrounding negativity to curl in a curled fetus position, which made the harrowing darkness just about bearable… Kept on the edge of consciousness, demonic shadows clawing at her pure mind, carving out her bright energy for their own foul desires.
Such was her cage without bars…
Anne Harrison 11.04.17
Tatterhood 