Prisoner

Adaryn

The intense hunger that woke me from a fitful night of sleep was maddening. When was the last time I had been fed? 10...11 days ago? The guards of Malor's highest security prison did not see it necessary to feed me as often as the others. I would die soon, anyways. Two months left, to be exact. Why waste good meat on a dying man? I looked down at my shriveled body.

The pale skin that was once colored and healthy now hung gray and loose on my thin torso, making every weak and dying bone visible. My arms and legs were as thin as a child's. My short stubby hair had ceased growing because of the severe lack of nutrients. That was how far off I was. I predicted there were only a few days left of my pathetic life, even if they did supply me with food. These long periods of starvation came at least twice a month with tiny portions of bread and meat in between them. I closed my eyes, wishing death would come swifter.

I don't know how long I lay there before I heard the sound of tiny claws clicking against the stone floor of my cell. At first, I thought the starvation was making me hallucinate, but I opened my bright purple eyes just in case.

I scanned the dark cell with my failing eyesight. All the darkness over the years almost had me blind. After looking throughout the cell twice, I saw it, huddling in the corner. A rat. It was almost too good to believe.

My heightened senses picked up the faint sound of it's heart, fluttering quickly in it's chest. The contrast of it's heartbeat agains my slow and weak one was enormous. From where I sat, I could smell the meat and blood within the small creature and, instinctively, my mouth began to water.I was not going to die like this. I must survive.

I scampered from my cot of mildewed straw and shreds of cloth, my prison uniform shirt, as fast as my weak body would allow. Every crawling step was painful and torturous. My eyes never left my prey. The rat had not yet sensed me. Even in my weakened condition, I was still quieter than it was. I could sneak up on the most sensitive creature without being detected. That's why I was hired as an assassin. Well, I WAS an assassin before I got betrayed by my employer. That is what got me here.

I slunk closer to the rat, creeping on the balls of my filthy feet. I was now within reach of the delectable looking creature. Faster than any human eye could see clearly, I sprung towards the rat. At the last moment, the rat spotted me at let out a frightened squeak. It started to run, and I fell flat on the ground.

Pain wracked my weak body, vibrated through every bone and tissue. I cried out, but no one heard me. The cell to the left was empty and I suspected the prisoner to the cell on the right was lying dead in his bed and ha been for a ling time. I looked at my grasped hand. It was curled around the scaly pink tail of the creature, which was now struggling desperately. A sly grin spread across my face for the first time in months.

Wasting no time, I bashed the rat's head against the wall until it move no more. I understood it was inhumane and animalistic, but this was prison, and that was how things had to be. I pulled several handfuls of fur out of the rat's body until I could wait no longer. I sunk my teeth into the rodents soft flesh.

Warm blood poured from my mouth as I savored each mouthful. The meat did not taste as good as some I had tried, but it beat anything the guards here served. As I crunched through the bones, not wasting anything, even eating the slimy tail, a ruckus began out in the cell block.

"Get your hands off me! I do not belong here! Let go of me, you ruffians!" A man shouted. I set down what was left of my meal and scrambled to the cage door. Two guards dressed in thick black armor were pulling a strange looking man down the hallway and hoisting him into the left cell.

The man had a strange accent the words ended faster and choppier, while everyone else in Malor connected their words smoothly. He wore a dirty white shirt with a flat collar and a black noose made of silk around his neck. Trousers were held around his waist with a strip of leather. His hair was lighter than anyone's in Malor, though he did not look much older than me, 27 or 28 years old at the most.

When the guards had left, I scurried to the left wall of my cell.

"Hello? Who are you?" I called. My voice was raspy and hoarse. I had not talked in months.

"Uh, John Hansson. Who are you?" The strange man answered hesitantly.

"I am Adaryn. Where did you come from? You look and sound foreign to these lands." I inquired.

"Earth." John stated

"What is Earth?" I asked. I had never heard of an Earth before.

"It is a planet far from here." John explained.

"Well, John Hansson from Earth. Welcome to Malor."