Mid-Week Flash Challenge - Week 210

This week's picture prompt is another one from Svetlana Sewell. She calls this one, Dead End. 

I had planned another Tricky snippet, but then someone decided to send me an offensive email about my writing, said in such a way to elicit the most upset. So I have eviserated them in fiction, as a writer does. 

The General Guidelines can be found here.

How to create a clickable link in Blogger comments can be found on lasts week's post here. 

There is also a Facebook group for Mid-Week Flash, if you fancy getting the prompt there.

Blasphemous

She bucked and fought them as they manhandled her down the stone stairs.

‘I’ve done nothing wrong! You can’t do this to me!’

‘Shush now, you’re only making it worse for yourself,’ the guard on the left said.

‘I’m allowed to say what I want!’

‘Not against the Queen, you aren’t,’ said the guard on the right.

‘I have a right to my opinion!’

‘Not to share it in an offensive manner, with inappropriate passive aggressive remarks that were attributed in such a way to cause the most upset. You heard the ruling; you suffer the consequences.’

‘But I have rights!’

‘Not when you choose to use them to hurt others, you don’t.’

They arrived at an underground tunnel, lit with dim recessed candles. The walls were damp and covered in some kind of red residue. She didn’t know if it was blood or fungus, either way she didn’t like it. And then the end of the tunnel came into view and she began her struggle afresh, arching her back and trying to throw her body out of their firm grasp. But they lifted her off her feet and kept moving her swiftly forward to the terrifying destination.

A heavy, white-painted metal doorway framed what had once been a white padded room. Now it was grimy and ripped in places, after many years of use. It was little more than the size of a cupboard and they thrust her in, causing her to hit the back wall hard and struggle to remain standing. She was unable to get to her feet before they had swung the door shut behind her, sealing her off for the determined period passed down by the judge. She wouldn’t see the light of day for more than a year – not that she would have any idea of time in here.

It was a successful deterrent against proffering unwanted, destructive criticism to someone of creative standing. They shut you down, and you rotted in oblivion. You’re only hope that you survived long enough to keep your mind and be given a second chance.