DIRT ~ finished

1...2...3

'Since when are you guys here?' Will asked, trying not to sound too curious.

He had already noticed how some of the muscled men, mostly Skinny and Smash, were keeping an eye on him. And not in a "sweet" or "looking after" kind of way. They were licking their lips, sometimes coming very close to each other, like they were scheming on a plan. A plan in which Will probably played the meal.

Robin calculated on his fingers and ended at twenty five for the little kid and forty two for himself. 

'I've been lucky, I got in here after Countdown did.'

Will raised an eyebrow, and Robin understood his confusion. Leaning his head backward against the mud wall, trying to get more comfortable even though that was pretty hopeless. The sand was hard and did not cooperate with how your butt wanted to be formed in it. Slowly, night was falling, and Will could feel the heat slowly change into cold breezes of wind.

'The Countdown is one of the Pit's true monsters', Robin started to explain. 'Through all the years of this place' existence, some criminals were almost to insane to end their time here.'

Will couldn't believe that there could actually be human beings, too bad to end their days in a hole in the ground. Fighting for life. And Robin noticed that opinion in his eyes.

'Just listen, you'll be surprised by everything that crawls around up and down here. The Devil doesn't always hide in the rooms of flames. No no sir. He likes the corrupt earth just as much. The Countdown got send in here about a month before I did. A normal man, caught buying some real deal drugs at the side of the street. He was a straight up target for the rest of the Pitters, from the moment he stepped feet unto their ground. Each day, they would cut off a finger, as a..."snack".'

Will gagged.

'Before they would, they'd count to three. 1...2...3...Now your finger' free. It drove the poor guy insane. And in week two, he woke up in the middle of the night. Had made an iron piece of his belt so sharp he could cut through bone with it, easily. He leaned over every men that tortured him throughout the week, and he counted to three like they did too. Cutting the flesh of their necks at 3. After he finished his job, he just went back to sleep. The other Pitters woke up at the sight of that horror, and they saw the blood and the knife in Countdown's hand. Let's say he never actually woke up again', Robin grinned finishing up the story.

Will's jaw had dropped unto the sand, unbelieving.

'That's like a freaking horror story.'

'The Pit IS a freaking horror story', Robin stated.

'Thirsty', Nosy groaned.

He was laying down on the sand, Robin had taken off his shirt for the kid to use as a pillow.

'Fever dreams', Robin explained worried, petting the head.

'Is there really nothing to drink?'

Robin shook his head.

'It hasn't rained for a long time. Summer's here make you feel what hell must feel like.'

Nosy kept moving around, his hands floating through the air like spaghetti. A fire read coloured face, shining in the sun shine that was still left with sweat.

'That guy, the "doctor", can't he fix his nose? It would calm down the fever', Will thought out loud.

'I thought of that before, but his mates have caused the injury. He would never restore this. They could kill him for betrayal.'

Weirdly enough, Will understood. It was all for one down where he was now.

'Mommy', Nosy groaned, turning around once again.

'Look William'....'Will', Will corrected him.

'Will. You can see it's getting darker. In an hour or so, we don't really keep up with time, the people here will...mutate.'

Will frowned for the thousands time that day, once again not following what the boy meant.

Robin pointed around. The muscled men, still glancing at Will like a he was a doughnut on legs. The skeleton at the other end of the Pit, shaking on his boney and pale white legs. The Pitters hiding in their own worlds, ready for death.

'At night, nobody cares about the rules anymore. The darkness consumes them and tares them apart mentally. All they want than is food and water.'

'Can we give it too them?' Will asked almost begging.

Robin, obviously, shook his head sighing.

'As long as we are breathing, no. So what we are going to do now is seek it for them.'

And Robin dug his hands into the hard dirt they were sitting on. Completely losing them in the brown mess. When the hands came up again, they were filled with earth.

'Failure one', he grinned, going under again in a different spot now.

Will watched him dig and dig, realising quickly what the boy was trying to find. Worms. Or insects of any kind to quiet the big guys' stomachs.

'There we go', Robin cheered.

His now filthy and with a brown layer covered hands came above again. And between all the dirt was a juicy pink worm crawling, trying to reach freedom. But Robin squeezed it and broke the gentle body in two.

'It's not much, but it's just to show them we respect them. We are dogs here, and they are the owners, you understand?' Robin pressured Will.

Will nodded, and he watched Robin go up to the big guys. They handed the worm over to each other, all inspecting it. And they seemed to be satisfied, waving Robin off.

'We will live tonight', Robin smiled, sitting down against the wall again.

'Why are you so happy about that?'

'Life's a beautiful thing William.'

'This isn't life.'

'And why not? Nothing that's happening in here doesn't happen out there. We kill for food. We beg for a little rain or sunshine. We fear death. And we are absolutely alone.'

'I wasn't alone out there', Will arguments.

'So why did you seek for your father if you weren't?'

Will fell silent. The unknown boy was right. He had always been lonely. His mother was a wonderful woman. Jake was a clown to be around. And Monica made him feel the beating off his heart more than anyone else. But he always missed the real attention of someone understanding him. Someone to tell him he wasn't a real man because he didn't even drink coffee.

And as the night fell, Will felt less terrible. He had Robin, who seemed truly nice. And sure, it wouldn't be the typical type of friendship, living in a hole. But he reminded him of Jake, and he needed someone like that in hell.

So they sat against the cold dirt wall, petting the little kid's head, breathing in air that smelled like death and sweat. Will kept his eye on the big men, who did the same with him. And exhaustion pushed his eyelids closed. The first night in the Pit had fallen.

Not expected to be a quiet one.