"Sometimes the brothers that you need in life are fosters."
Cold, sadistic, and a hint of crazy describes the pyromaniac perfectly. Never choosing to settle down and only taking risky and high paying guild requests and a passion for gambling to surv...
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Time in slavery passed by in a crawl of misery, as the months turned into years that were all confined in the stone walls and iron shackles of suffering.
The pain that steeped the air was disheartening and many had lost hope of ever reaching freedom. Many tried to escape, but all were caught. At least those that had died manage to escape the pain, but many were simply tortured and thrown back into work with new limps and scars.
It didn’t matter who you were, whether you were a child or a grown adult, the cult treated us with zero mercy. If you stopped working for any reason for any amount of time you were electrocuted without fail, just like I was when I was captured and right before I met Jellal and Simon.
Those two, just thinking about them made me feel nostalgic. They worked hard to help me cope with the environment, even if Simon appeared at the same time I did. William, on the other hand, tried to make sure I had kept eating. And yet, no matter how hungry I was, I just couldn’t keep down the white grewal they tried to feed us.
The taste was simply too foul, and no matter how much I tried I just couldn’t eat it. Me skipping meals combined with the manual labour had made me weaker and weaker. When the guards noticed, they used that electricity spell until I couldn’t think and forced me to continue working.
As Simon said, we were given different tasks each day. Some days I’d be working with them and others I’d be by myself with others that I didn’t know. It was those days, where I had no one to support me, I’d come back covered in bruises and burns from the electricity that torched me from inside out. It was those nights that William would worry over me and treat my injuries.
I didn’t try to hide my tears, the pain was too much and was physically debilitating. Even as William and Bosco placed wet rags to try to calm the inflammation, their mere presence on my skin made the pain worse. I was tired, and weak, and deeply afraid. It felt like if I tried to sleep to rest that I wouldn’t wake back up.
William had tried to force me to eat what food he had. Despite my disgust he continued, and while it felt good to have something in my stomach, the vile taste still stained my mouth and prompted me to vomit it all out onto the edges of the cell.
“Shit! If she continues like this she is goin’ to die.”
“Can’t you do anything?”
“I would have already if I could,” Bosco answered with a raised voice, “The fact that she isn’t eating is bad enough already. If she wants a chance to live then she’ll have to adapt to this place…”
“Hey, whats going on in there?”
From my position on the ground I opened my eyes to see William turned to the man that had come to cell, with Bosco on my other side.
