Sand Man

Part Three

Chapter 12

What could have possibly happened for him to force so much pain upon himself? I watch silently as the minutes pass by, cowered behind the door, hoping for this awful sight to end and wondering where Zhun could be. Does she even know what her brother is doing behind this door?

Bhagid turns and exits through the other door leading to the Grand Room. He must have seen enough of the torture. He glances back one last time at his son struggling, and then continues out of the room without offering any help.

Zeke's yells continue, but as agonizing as they are, they seem to give him a boost of power. He pulls his legs higher, pumping them almost up and down in their place, trying to span the last stretch separating him from the wall. His legs continue, methodically, pulling the blocks forward inch by inch. But whatever progress he presumes to be making in his head, his legs must realize is a falsity. They buckle underneath him, first the right, then the left in an excruciating mess of joints. I cringe as he lunges forward, landing on his hands and knees on the cold floor. The rounded muscles of his back ripple under the skin, his ribcage surging in and out trying to catch the air.

I think for a moment about offering to help, trying to reason with him and make him quit, but if he wouldn't take his own father's help, I doubt he'd take mine. Plus, this all seems too personal for me to simply step in and offer anything. Maybe I shouldn't even be watching this at all. I suddenly feel like an intruder, spying on something I probably shouldn't have seen and now I wish I hadn't. The powerful image I had of him just isn't the same. Yes, he's still probably the strongest man I've ever met, but now I know he's troubled somewhere deep inside, and that's a weakness.

My mind reels back to Zhun, why had she told me to meet her here? Where is she?

I hear Zeke maneuvering the chains again from behind the wall. So I peek in again and see he's crawling, on hands and knees, dragging the blocks behind him. His arms now supporting the burden of his weight, and they shake. One arm gives out, sending him face forward into the stone. I wince, begging that he won't get up again, but of course he does.

With one final effort, his hand reaches the wall and I feel exhausted myself from just witnessing the ordeal.

If these people need my help, what goes on in these dreams? What could they possibly need from me? The memory of being beaten to death in the dark alleyway is always fresh on my mind. As is the familiar rush of tears that usually follows when I think about the pain. I think about how helpless I had been against them, and now I realize that nothing has changed. I may look different, but I'm still the same scared kid I was back then.

I close my eyes to keep myself from crying, but the painful image of attackers is only replaced with Zeke just on the other side of the wall. I lean my head against the stone, the only thing keeping me out of his sight, and listen to the rustle of him removing the metal chains that had leashed him down.

I can't do this. I'm not like these people.

"What do you think?" Zhun asks quietly, startling me and nearly causing me to fall backward.

"I think that it looks like torture." I answer, making sure to keep my voice low, just in case it should remain a secret that I saw it.

"I know, I wanted you to see this so you'd realize that we really take our job seriously. Sometimes Zeke takes things too far." She admits, looking to the floor and adding, "He's upset because we lost one last night."

Can it really be true? Can they really save people? If so, what does it mean to 'lose one'?

"I'm sorry you lost one." I venture, still trying to keep up the act that I trust her.