Click. Click. Click. Turn. Click. Click.
Another had escaped. Centuries of being the most secure prison of it’s kind on the entire continent and now they’d had their second breach in less than five years.
I should have listened to the reader. He said the boy should be destroyed. Why didn’t I listen?
He knew why he hadn’t listened. He had wanted a new toy. The runt was the first of his category, per se, to have been born in captivity and alive. He had hoped to train the thing into obeying his orders, turning it into his very own specialized weapon. Unfortunately there was always one thing in his way. The bitch that spawned the creature never named him. They tortured her for months trying to force her to name him, they had even tried threatening the offspring itself. Instead she died six months after giving birth from an infected wound, never saying a name.
I should have given up then. I should have known he would be of no use to me without a name. Now I have a riot on my hands.
There was a knock on the office door followed by a nervous, “Sir?”
“Enter.”
The young guard couldn’t have been more than sixteen years old. Soft, wispy hairs framed his mouth that was set in a grim line; a strange expression given the youth and innocence the rest of him reeked of.
“General Volkov, sir, we received a bird from the reader’s team. They’ve found the prisoner.”
“Good.” Volkov’s voice sounded like he had swallowed a handful of razorblades once upon a time; rough and unpleasant. “Bring it to me as soon as they arrive. In the meantime I want each and every one of our nasty little pets to be informed of his capture, accompanied by no less than twenty kisses from blue eyes.”
“Sir, yes sir,” the man squeaked out, a mixture of revulsion and anticipation in his voice. Blue eyes was a nasty little tool that made even the strongest soldier retch at its handiwork, but Volkov made sure each of his men developed a disturbing delight in causing pain to the disgusting creatures his facility contained. They deserved pain.
The guard left and Volkov ceased his pacing to dig through the files in the cabinets by his desk. 3488, 3489, 3490, ah, 3491…He pulled out the file he had been looking for.
3491. A rather special capture. He had been incredibly difficult to obtain and had been almost impossible to erase the memory of his name. However, they all had a breaking point, and after a few years, this one had met his.
General Volkov, the infamous Stone Faced General, allowed a tiny twitch in the corner of his mouth, an imitation of a smile. He would enjoy breaking this one again.
YOU ARE READING
The Named
AdventureA boy without a name / A man without a purpose / A girl without a love / A people left helpless. Together they'll ignite a flame / In the heart's of the blameless / So when push comes to shove / They will battle the heinous.
