I woke to cold air and a stiff body. I shivered in my coat; my mouth so dry I tried to suck the saliva.
But I was afraid. Of moving. Because if I moved, wouldn't this mean I wasn't dreaming? I tried to close my eyes; blotting out the darkness.
But my arm began itching. And my feet were stinging—
There were bugs. Skittering across my body.
I screamed. Their legs! Their teeth! But I heard it—
The shuffling.
Cold sweat dripped down my face. And my heart stopped beating.
Slowly. Gradually. I looked around me.
There were shadowy legs. And feet. An arm there, just behind me. It was dark. I couldn't see. Was it night? Day? But the day couldn't be quite that disturbing…
Truly, it shouldn't be.
But there was no way of telling…
Were they searching? Investigating? Certainly, they should know I was missing!
But they wouldn't find me. And my body would rot inside this darkness for all eternity!
An endless wait.
And a painful, agonizing silence.
I was alone in a place filled with children hardly older than me. And there was no one to help.
I tried to muffle my tears. Because that, too, was scary.
Melvin had hid his tears this way. I was sure of it. I had never seen him cry. And never did he mention his fears to me.
I wiped my face with my sleeve. It wouldn't do to dishonor his memory—
"Dillon!" Hands wrapped around my shaking shoulders—
I elbowed them away.
The boy grunted; shuffling back a little. "Where—are we? What are we doing here?" I whispered. Naively.
"I don't know! I was taken too. But—"
My voice sharpened. "But?"
"Dillon, too, has been missing…"
My stomach clenched and roiled—
I swallowed the acid back down. Because I was noble. Because it was necessary to keep myself dignified in the face of adversity…
I soon lost that mentality. In the end, we all died screaming.
But during this venemous initiation, I tried. To emulate my father. And every noble before me. Because my pride wouldn't let me. Because I wasn't lowly.
But this farce of heirarchy didn't do me any good at all.
Just because my father's father's grandfather helped stablize the Empire from rebellion in the last century didn't mean anything to these people. I wasn't different. Or special.
Or even relevant at all.
I was covered in filth just like everyone else. And just like anyone else, I, too, could be hurt and killed.
My body would soon be tossed amongst the beasts to eat. But that was after. Later.
Unfortunately, the thoughts I couldn't quite conceal then revealed themselves on my face—
Pride, it's the perfect target for venting.
***
I didn't deign to speak anymore. This boy didn't know anything.
"Dillon…" The boy whispered; clenching my arm. I didn't bother shooing him away. After all, there was nowhere to go. And despite my rigid disapproval, the warmth of his arm seeped into me.
Even though my face was wet and the smell was disgusting, somehow…it was reassuring…
But that unexpected relief didn't last long. At all.
Because I heard stomping. Lots and lots of stomping. His hand clenched harder. I, too, grabbed him and squeezed. It was instinct.
Though I can't say if it helped me.
The banging against the bars. The rattling of chains as the gate unlocked. And my skin that was crawling—almost vibrating—
And the frailty of my face as it drained.
Dozens of masked men prodded us with their boots; their batons and fists mercilessly swinging.
Their faceless masks and blank eyes scary in the darkness.
"How many did you say again?" A shadowy malformation rounded upon what I came to know was the leader. The man's true appearance could've been pleasing; but I couldn't know it, the unknown far more disturbing.
Even their hands were wreathed in gloves and their arms and legs covered in black.
"Five. Let's start with five."
A grunt.
"We have to succeed this time, boys. Master doesn't like to be kept waiting."
"Aye!" The echoing roar made me flinch and gasp; the splitting of prisoners and guards quite apparent.
But the miscombulating heads turned. And the light from the torches burned, stinging my eyes.
Gasping. Grunting. Hurried crawling—
And the pushing—shoving—huddling of scared little boys and girls trying to squeeze into the smallest space possible.
I, too, tried to shift my body away from the light. But I couldn't stay hidden, after all. Because they found me; the silk and shine of my clothes amongst the dust and rabble of the poor.
It was unexpected, after all. To see.
My head dipped. There was someone—
Someone coming!
"Hey."
My eyes that were wavering—My hands that were shaking
"Hey, you!"
The boots stepping in front of me caked in mud. The harsh, violent voice. And the baton slamming against the ground—
It was loud. And intimidating. My eyes shut instinctively.
"I said look at me, boy!"
My hair was yanked and fingers dug into my chin, lifting it up. I flinched, struggling away.
"Oy. Look what we have here!" My chin was forced left, then right; roughly gouging my skin. How dare he?!
I bit him—
And his fist landed on my cheek.
My eyes rolled; my mouth bleeding from my cut gums and broken tooth. Gasping. Gasping. It hurt so much I was gasping—
Never had I been hit this way.
A noble. And a common thug.
"Ah. My apologies, Sir." He shook his hand. And kicked me. I groaned.
He picked me up and dusted me off; twirling me around to bring me closer to the light. "There. See! What did I tell you?! We've got us a genuine noble's kid here!"
I spat blood. And glared—
He slapped me violently. "I think I found our first!" Was he grinning? It could've been.
He spoke with such glee.
I shuddered. But stood my ground.
After all, they would come find me. They would! And soon, it would be him amongst the dead!