Crisis Of War

{ LXXIII }

'Can you believe we finally got him,' A voice whispers excitedly, 'the Rafael Curzio!'

I keep my eyes closed and listen as someone shoves against something, followed by a grunt. 'Hey!' 

'He doesn't look so mighty tied up, does he?' Untie me then... 

Untie me and let me show you how I could still kill you and then we'll talk. 

 A light turns on somewhere in the room, but I keep my eyes closed. 

'Wake his ass up, we need to get him in the other room.' Oh god... They have moved me three times in the past three hours. 

And we've only been here for three hours. 

'You want- I have to wake him up?' It sounds like the boy that couldn't hide his excitement as they dragged me in. 

It's a boy. A teenager. A mere servant that finally gets to see the true action now that I'm here apparently. 

But I bet they did that on purpose. 

They want him to see how cruel they can be in hopes of him being someone dark and twisted like everyone else. 

They want him to turn into a monster. 

And if he stays in environments like these, he won't have any other choice than to melt into the mold they're preparing for him. 

'Big boss wants you to learn,' The other voice says, another grunt as I hear footsteps get closer, 'so do as you're told.'

The boy is closer. I can hear him gulp as he shuffles even closer. His hands untie my legs from the chair and I slowly open my eyes a tiny bit. 

A boy, probably fifteen years old, is kneeling down as he frees my legs from the chair. He has dark brown hair and a light tan, looking like one of the men that dragged me in here yesterday. 

He doesn't look at me as he tries to move away as quickly as he can, and I almost smile because of it. 

He's scared.

'You're awake.' The other voice states before I hear him move closer too. 

'What now?' The boy asks as he turns to the older man on his right. It's a man that locked me in this room, still wearing the same shit he wore an hour ago. 

Dried-up blood stains on his shirt from the blood that was dripping from his nose. 

'Tell him to get up.' My eyes shift from the man to the boy and I watch as he stares back at me. 

Those youthful eyes, filled with joy and happiness. He's not quite there yet... I can see a hint of darkness, the darkness that consumed us all at a young age, but he's holding onto his childhood. 

Not ready to enter this fucked up thing we call reality. 

'Tell him.' The man repeats, his tone way harsher than before. The kid keeps his eyes on me, wondering if he should listen to the man or just make a run for it.