My Wonderful Second Life

Chapter 71- Numbers

The sound was familiar even though I had never seen Wolff's beast form. I shivered and felt Princess Lola jump and go into an unsettling reality hidden behind an uncomfortable darkness. There was no more choice to make. I would go down. And I was sure, as she clung close to me, that Amelia would go too.

We descended in silence, our breaths the only noise around us. I missed the comfort Princess Lola gave me, but I knew she would be fine. A tiny little spider covered by shadows would never be caught. The steps were uneven, damp and hard to see, so I had my hand on the wet wall, feeling all its imperfections and rough edges. My skin scratched against the stone that had not seen the sunlight in years.

On my side, Amelia walked with a peculiar easiness, carrying two daggers she had stolen from the sleeping guards. She secured them with a tight grip, close to her hips, her stance quiet and her form blended into the space. I wondered how a lady such as herself could be so comfortable with sharp knives. But then again, I was no one to comment when I had a musket hanging from my shoulder and a pistol in my hand.

We were on the lookout for noises, but we heard nothing but water drops falling onto the ground, making the floor slippery. For moments, I thought I had heard screams, cries or even steps. But then nothing came of it. It was just this space screwing with my mind.

We walked for what seemed like an eternity until a faint light came into view. We slowed our steps, or breaths, making sure we made as little noise as possible as we followed the light into a cavernous room. In my lifted hand, my pistol was set for a shot, while Amelia had her daggers ready to strike.

In the beginning, I thought it was empty, with an exception of a table with a lamp, the only light in the room, and two chairs of mouldy wood crashing against the wall. The smell was stuffy and sharp, and I could not place it. Until I looked to the left side, opposite the table and the chairs, and I found them.

A group of boys, of all ages from as old as 13 to as young as 8 years old. All very much the same, with dark hair, fair skin, sharp nose and features that would turn heads when they grew up. All very much like Cedric. Except for the eyes.

Instead of that vibrant red, almost like it was two rubies plucked from one of the wealthiest crowns, theirs were milky white. Dead inside. Like the rest of their bodies. They said nothing, did nothing, except sit side by side, arms hugging their knees. Waiting.

The shock passed, and I rushed to the bars that kept the boys from freedom. I tried to open it, but no matter what, it did not budge. And the boys never moved. My fingers filled with rust, my apron became grey and nothing changed.

"Here." Called Amelia, showing me some bulky iron keys. "They were on the ground."

I stopped my struggle and took a bigger notice of them dangling between her index finger and her thumb.

Could it be so easy?

It must be a trap. But I would not leave them here. I would not forget them or turn my back as I did before. This time, I was going to help them. I took the keys and tried them in the keyhole. The third clicked, and the door opened.

And it was then that the boys turned their heads. Still dead inside. Still lost in their minds.

"Who are you?" asked one of them, the youngest. He got up from his corner with effort, his hair not as black and his eyes not as milky.

"We have to leave this place." I said, scrambling to his side.

He took a step back, his eyes moving from me to Amelia. The spot between his eyebrows wrinkled. "We are not supposed to leave here."

I tried to take his arm, but he moved away. Impatience would not take me anywhere. I glanced back to the empty room outside those bars, wondering how long they would be that way.