wake up…
An echoing voice rang openly.
wake up…
wake up…
wake up…
His eyes slowly opened, he awoke to a sea of stars around him that glistened in his eyes, nearly blinding him.
He closed his eyes again.
A gust of wind suddenly erupted, throwing the boy far away, further into the nothingness that surrounded him…
wake up…
His face splattered below, peaking into the watery surface below, admiring the beauty of the stars in this unknown place.
Figures faded in the reflection below at the notice of his long gaze, those in which inflicted confusion into his mind.
What were these figures? Who were they?
A voice sounded beneath, almost like the voice of the ocean's king.
The boy could not understand what was said, the noise continued… suddenly fading away, as the boy's gaze turned to confrontation.
"Hel-"
The wind whistled again, throwing the boy high into the air before he could speak, his eyes warped the sea above, calming his stressed body, but was interrupted by the forces below.
He began to fall…
His eyes closed once again…
The voice chose to ring.
Now is not the time…
wake up…
Wake up!
His eyes opened, he awoke to his frail body, laying on a mattress covered in many layers of dirt. He felt the roughness against his skin, an unpleasant way to sleep, but the most pleasant in this place.
He slowly arose from his back, coming back to a small dimly lit box, a prison cell of bricks forged in mud, that lay part of a small prison on the outskirts of the countryside, prime location for such a ring.
The prison was a home for those who couldn't escape a simple grasp, lives turned from freedom, to cursed routines filled with torture and slavery, a hell for those alive.
He looked around, in his eyes, only an image of darkness appeared, it was the eminence the prison had emitted, seemingly only visible to the prisoners.
The interior of the cell gave out nothing else, the brick walls and the thick metal bars, nothing changed, just a new scuff of dirt or a new flake of rust peeling from the aging bars.
Today was the same.
He dropped his torso back down, landing harshly against the old mattress, causing dust to explore his already dark and greasy hair.
Something sounded down the cell hall… multiple pairs of footsteps, each of different weights continuing down, slowly getting louder.
They suddenly stopped close by, but the boy didn't seem to have an interest in them, maybe it was just the guards doing rounds again, just a casual morning for them.
The sound of banging metal came from close by, just outside the boy's cell.
With a stern look, a tall tan man stood outside his cell, banging on the metal bars that lined its entrance with a long wooden stick, waiting for an opportunity to use it.
The boy was used to this, he had been stuck in this place for 10 years, since the day his mother passed this unfortunate life to him, how unlucky.
Despite being 10, the boy didn't properly know how to speak, he only picked up little by little after hearing the guards communicate with each other while making rounds or discussing as they surveyed the hall.
"Get up!"
A man's deep voice sounded loudly through the hall, his voice was intimidating, perfect for the authority a guard would hold.
They boy did not react.
He lay still, not answering to the guard, he was too tired to speak, and too tired to get up, he didn't want another day of labor, his frail body was already on the verge of collapse, he just couldn't take it anymore…
The cell door suddenly cracked open, and the man entered the cell.
Seconds passed, then a tall shadow appeared before him. The shadow moved swiftly, painting the floor and the walls with a crimson splatter of blood.
"Get the hell up!"
The boy got out of his bed, but fell straight to his knees as he was stunned by the affliction the shadow gifted to him.
The guard just stared at 15 on the ground, raising his anger every second he admired his fading soul.
"You are worthless 15, just like your mother, you understand? Remember, when I say something you fucking do it!"
The boy slowly nodded.
He wanted peace.
He looked down in despair, knowing damn well even with little knowledge of life outside the prison, no being should ever have to live like this.
Once verifying the success of his conditioning, the guard turned around leaving the cell before locking it behind him.
The boy was left on the ground, fading away in his own blood.
The boy couldn't get up, he struggled to even move his legs and his vision started to come to a blur as the blood kept piling up.
He poked his head up, and looked back towards the puddle of blood forming around him. He dipped his finger in the blood, sending a message for the victim who would come to be the cell's next owner.
He began forming an image on the ground… a small star… his most significant memory he could recollect, the dream of that starry space… His newest memory, his only good memory of this life.
It was the only message he could send, an image, a one understandable by all, not hindered by the barrier of language.
His body had started to weaken, he couldn't take this pain anymore… his head dropped down, forcing itself against the hardened concrete below, cracking his skull….
His consciousness faded away