Shannon slowly became aware again. Her world was chaotic and hazy, the one definite sensation being something pulling at her wrists. As coherence began to set back in she instinctively tried to pull them in towards her, with no effect. A moment later she realized that she was regaining consciousness, and adrenaline flooded her body.
Shannon was in a dungeon cell; an old one with stone walls and a thick metal door. Heavy steel manacles had been placed around her wrists, linked directly to each other and attached to a thick chain leading to the ceiling. They seemed to be perfectly sized, fitting around her wrists tightly. Shannon grunted as she felt the tension on the increase, and realized that her ankles were also wrapped in steel.
The shackles were pulling tightly, leaving her only able to touch the ground with the balls of her feet. The chains linking to her ankles were at their maximum as well; she could not pull her heels more than a couple of inches off of the ground.
The tension left her body completely immobilized, barely able to move or even twist in any direction, the position of her arms preventing her from even turning her head more than a few degrees. She pulled against the chains with every muscle of her body, at first deliberately, then desperately, and then in a panic. Her necklace had been removed, leaving her nothing more than a simple woman.
Shannon, wearing her self out, relaxed her body, her wrists aching from the strain. A moment after she stopped, she heard a voice behind her; a voice that she recognized.
“Tired already? I hope you've got a lot more struggle than that left in you.” |