The Prisoner

At the threshold of the cell, her old identity peels off her, and she gains a new one. 

The pair take turns to feast on her, come day or night. When they’ve taken their fill and leave, she sinks back in exhaustion. Agony coils itself around the center between her legs. Rivulets of crimson flow unbidden down her thighs.

Darkness envelops her. Nourishment trickles down her throat, but taste dies on her tongue.  

Forty days later, they set her free. Sunlight scorches her skin. She shuts her eyes, and vows never to let herself go again.