Black Equation - The Hunted Ones

NINE

"Simplicity never represented mediocrity."

NINE

"D-Do you mean people have died here before?" 

Meric's question seemed to echo indefinitely inside the painfully quiet room.

"Of course, people have died. That grandpa from the neighboring farm just died of old age two days ago. I bet he's under your bed right now," Ophee laughed, her arms akimbo. She even tilted her head as she drawled, "What, are you afraid of ghosts?"

However, his expression did not change, and her laughter slowly died under his intense stare. 

"I'm serious," he pressed. "If we don't follow your Family, if we resist... will you kill us too?"

There was something in his voice that made her unable to crack another joke. Killing, dying. Coming from him, these concepts sounded so casual. From his tone, she could catch a sense of helplessness and acceptance, and her guts told her that he wasn't faking it. He really wanted to know. 

Could it be that from where he came--escaped--from, people dying was an everyday thing?

She was just teasing the guy to divert his attention, not expecting such a response. As such, she could only stare at the guy in equal shock. 

Normally, she would have found this amusing. A grown guy, taller than her by a head, probably older than her as well, had just sounded like a little kid who was told a horror story before his bedtime. She could nearly imagine a younger him clutching a teddy bear as he shook in fear. However, remembering the terrible, terrible images she had glimpsed the moment her skin had contact with him earlier, and she swallowed her humor back.

"No, we won't kill you," she replied, finding the seriousness in her voice quite uncharacteristic of her. This made her furrow her brows, and she was left deep in thought.

However, her answer was like a lifeline to Meric. He let out the breath that he didn't know he had been holding, and he sat down on his straw bed. The instant his bottom hit the bed, it was as if the fatigue incurred and accumulated from Jules's training had come crashing down his entire body. The hunger in his stomach also returned with a vengeance. Under the watch of the dark-haired girl, he silently ate the lukewarm food.

Minutes dragged on before she spoke again.

"Are you planning to run away?"

Her question made him swallow the last bite of his food without chewing, and he nearly choke. Meric tried to calm himself down as he emptied the glass of water. 

Even if he wanted to run away, he would not outright tell her this--he would secretly plan this with Kreuz. After all, he had close to no inkling about the outside world. As someone raised inside the Hand since childhood, he had no practical knowledge. Only Kreuz could whip a perfect getaway plan for them, the same way he plotted and succeeded in bringing the two of them out of the Hand. But before all that, the two of them needed intel on this so-called Family.

"What kind of place is this?" he asked instead, ignoring her question. "Why did you bring us here? Why are you training us?"

Ophee was equipped with her trademark saucy smile once more. Her bright eyes curved as she observed the fluctuations on his face, like it was sight to behold. She ignored the pain on her ankles as she sauntered closer to the badly bruised boy.

"Are you planning to run away?" she repeated.

Meric did not answer, but his face said it all.

"If you are, the less you know, the better your chances," she chuckled. Bitterness flashed past her eyes, but it was gone in a blink. Meric did not even see it.

Slowly, Ophee stretched out her hands and pushed him on the chest. He let his body fall on the tiny bed, but he casted her an inquiring gaze, slightly baffled by her actions.

"If you agree to bring me with you, I will help you."

"What?"

"I will help you escape, but I need you to bring me away with you."

Ophee sat on the bed beside the young man, and her earlier contempt and attitude all seemed to vanish. She did not look at him. Instead, her head was lowered, and her eyes were gazing at the empty space near her feet. 

The atmosphere inside the room changed. In fact, not just the atmosphere. The girl inside the room seemed to change as well, as if another person had replaced her. There was no laziness, no jest, no contempt in those soft hazel-colored eyes.

For a moment, Meric was left mesmerized.

"How will you help us?" he asked as soon as he got his senses back. "Why are you escaping?"

This time, she faced him with another raised brow. "Why do you ask so many questions?"

That shut him up. 

Ophee lowered her gaze once more. The two of them sat in quiet contemplation, neither of them aware of each other's thoughts. After a while, she said, "Your hand."

The Hand?! 

His eyes widened. "What?"

Seeing his reaction, she simply raised a brow. "I said, give me your hand." 

As she said those words, she raised her left hand to him, palms up. Only then did Meric realize what she meant. Despite her odd request, he did as she said.

The moment he touched her skin, he realized that she was actually wearing some sort of thin skin-colored gloves. He studied her expression, but her pretty face never showed any changes.

Despite her calm appearance, Ophee was in pain. Inside her mind, she was no longer sitting beside a blond boy inside a tiny room. She was no longer inside Creed's property. She wasn't even in Alkin.

Her gut was twisting in acid and her head was splitting apart. Everything was painful. Her whole body was aching with injuries. Her chest was as heavy as the ocean. She could feel herself retching violently on the grass and dirt, over and over again, until eventually, she was vomiting blood on solid ground. She was being dragged out of the halls by men whose face she couldn't see. She was too weak to even look up, too weak to even breathe. All she managed to see was a flash of a wicked-looking knife and a glimpse of one of them heating a branding stick over the fireplace.

Terror crippled her when the unknown people began strapping her into one of the shackled seats she knew that the boss specifically ordered for the new slaves.

And then she felt them stab the white-hot branding stick into her stomach.

She fainted.