500 - Part I - Distorted Shadows and Monsters

Chapter XI - The Man // The Monster // The Boy.

Daniel felt his head prop up slightly and his new migraine crashed like falling tidal waves in a colourless ocean. When the sea stole away the fun of the beach, by clamming many a life. Like his organs were inflatables being washed out in the water. He couldn't breathe. Again. His face was pale, but his glistening eyes remained shining. "So. Why are you here?" the girl asked sweetly. Daniel's headache only thumped louder, as though it were organs and church bells playing and ringing loudly. He pondered for a while. He became more annoyed than anything else: anger was t what he expected at all to boil inside of him. Unanswered. Daniel didn't care. The boy waited until a few seconds turned into a minute and then a whole minute and then...
"Don't force a response out of him," mumbled Terry, a distinct voice. Daniel was almost drifting off to sleep again. He prayed it wasn't unconsciousness; sleep was blissful; sleep was peaceful. Daniel slowly shut his eyes and breathed in and out slowly.

"Terry," addressed Brielle, "All the people said was that he wanted to be in here."
"But —Bridget— who would willingly go down in here? I certainly hate it here."
"Maybe he had no choice," Brielle answered for him darkly. They sat cross-legged in a half-awkward, yet half-relaxing silence.

Morning arose soon enough. The crack of dawn and a cherry blossom pink sky was replaced by a dark and ominous prison-cell-styled "bedroom or "safe space for children". The soft tweeting of free songbirds and the flying of free magpies became coughs, splutters and cries of excruciating agony. Even the sound of it was gut-wrenching enough. Daniel awoke to the same room with the same walls and the same terrible feeling in his stomach and the same people and the same horrible stench and the same horrible, horrible, horrible, inevitable total loss of hope. The day started unusually casually. Terry looked lighter and Bri had no bags under her eyes for once. It was a beginning. A simple idea, at least. They would keep calm and play this wicked game, even if there was no respawn button.

Terry began telling stories of everything he could remember about his past. It wasn't like campfire stories that used to scare the pre-schoolers, who didn't know it was fictitious, but instead real chilling tales that were more than true. Terry complained that he couldn't recall anything for quite a while, until he jumped up with a sudden thought. "Right guys," he began excitedly, "I went hiking with my mum, dad and three brothers. We went so high in the hills and we could see Wasteland City from there. It was a bittersweet masterpiece."
"Wasteland City?" Daniel shrugged. Brielle elbowed him lightly. "You don't know what Wasteland City is?" she said in sudden shock.
"The name's familiar," Daniel admitted, in his defence.
"It's this massive city of skyscrapers made out of these big and small tents all stacked upon each other. The citizens light their lanterns on a night and the city comes to life. I saw it at night and it was dazzling." Terry's explanation was intriguing. "What's the wasteland part?" Daniel wondered.
"You see, Daniel," Terry told him, "The citizens were poor people, deprived of their jobs. They all came together as a group and made a project, where they use all the rubbish on the streets and up-cycle it. They made such amazing sculptures and buildings out of anything they could find."
"It sounds like a good place," commented Daniel. Brielle and Terry nodded in unison. "You don't think it's gone, do you?" Brielle said sadly, looking for reassurance.
"Gone?" Terry spluttered in disbelief.
"Bri's got a point," Daniel stated, "For all we know, Grayden and the pitiful excuse for a government, could've possibly torn it all down. After all, some materials may be extremely flammable." Terry looked furious, scorn written all over his face. "Oh yeah, let's all make this happy conversation depressive all over again." He folded his arms and turned his back on Daniel and Brielle. "Terry," began Brielle, "I apologise."
"You always have to spill out the truths and it's frustrating. I want to pretend it's all okay."
"Do what you want, Terry," Brielle replied, "Just don't expect Wasteland City to be all in one piece, if we get out of here."
"When," Daniel corrected her. He had a lack of logic, but a rise in hope. That seemed fair.