Can't Save Them All

The Silent Siren

Wil doesn't move. He tracks his new Master as he walks back down the stairs to the... kitchen? If he remembers the tour correctly. The door wasn't slammed and his steps are light, so probably not mad. But the door was closed. Wil was granted privacy? On the first night? That never happened. Unless it was to lock Wil in this room. That seemed more likely. Though he didn't hear a lock. Maybe it's a test? To see if he'll test the door? Leave the room? Wil decides he will certainly not be touching that door. He is not testing boundaries tonight.

Wil slowly starts to count to 200 before moving. Gotta count to make sure he is left alone. That his Master isn't going to return immediately, to dish out any punishments for making a scene at the auction house. As Wil counted he took in his- the room. The cell. A bed, a rug, a side table containing a water bottle and crackers, a dresser with blankets, a closet with clothes, a bathroom attached to the room. This is way too much stuff for a slave like him. He hasn't done anything to deserve it. Maybe it's to show him luxury, to show him what he could have if he's good. Only to have it all stripped from him tomorrow morning. Maybe it's one of those unattainable goals. Masters like to do that, like to play tricks. Wil's played the game before. He knew no matter how hard he'd try there was no winning. He would never be back in this room. That's the way the game is, no winning.

198, 199, 200. No sounds in the house except his too quick breaths and an occasional paper noise from the kitchen. Might as well enjoy the time he has in this particular cell.

The first thing Wil does is test the seal on the water bottle. It's not broken. He squeezes the bottle to ensure there's no holes or cracks. He's been drugged through water before. He's not taking any chances. Finding that it hasn't been tampered with he opens it and takes small sips. He hadn't had water in hours, practically a day. No need to overload his system. He presses on the crackers, ensuring that the air in the package remains constant, before deciding they're safe to eat. No drugging the first night. Another luxury.

Wil slowly munches through one or two crackers. He shouldn't eat too much, no more than his system can take. He needs to keep nutrients in his body, no throwing them back up. After that he wanders over to the closet, steps light and mapping out every creak. It's important to always be quiet, so that his Master forgets that he is in this room and leaves him alone.

Though his new Master is weird. He's yet to yell or hit Wilbur, even though Wil can think of multiple rules that he's broken. Maybe he's one of those masters that saves the punishment so he only needs to do one big one instead of a bunch of small ones. Those are the worst, usually the bigger ones take longer to heal. Unfortunately, there's only one way to find out. Break a rule and figure out the consequences. Something that always terrifies him. He hates messing up, especially on purpose. But he needs to learn how this house works.

That's a future Wil problem. Current Wil was told to take a shower before bed so that's exactly what he'll be doing. He snagged a change of clothes to sleep in before making his way to the bathroom, skipping over the creak that's by the foot of his bed.

Wil spent the next bit of time debating the bathroom door. Most masters would want it open. But most masters would not close the door to his cell. Most masters wouldn't have given him food before bed. Most masters wouldn't have offered him a warm shower. Most masters would have added to the bruises decorating his body. This new Master is not most masters. Wil inspected the door knob to discover there was a lock. On the inside. Where he could lock it. That just screams danger. Wil is not to deny his Master anything. Especially entry to a room in his own house. The lock will not be touched. But should the door be open or closed? Wil strains his ears to the rest of the house, trying to figure out where his Master is. After a moment he hears a rustle of papers then some clinking of ceramic. Still in the kitchen then.