[29] Fellow Prisoner

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An eerie silence hung over the room in which a man was held captive. He was strapped to the chair, head dropping on the side at a dangerous angle while cuts and bruises littered his skin; an aftereffect of being mercilessly tortured. His grey hair were tangled and matted with dirt reaching down in messy clumps.

He was conscious but not enough to take hold of the situation.

Very slowly he would sweep his eyes over the room, looking for any sign which he could identify, any thing which could aid in his escape. However, all he found was a desolate spookiness and the sole material he could identify was his own file torn to shreds on the floor. The name Nathan Whitburg poked from within the crumpled paper.

Nathan was a former Auror for the British Ministry of Magic. He had served for a few years in the MACUSA as well and had been transferred to the British Ministry on account of his excellent repute and expertise. He had been tasked to go undercover and find out about the mysterious cult like group of Dark wizards which was slowly but steadily propagating in Albania. In order to undertake the task, Nathan had resigned from his job but the impression was created that he was fired by the Ministry; another tool to aid him in his mission.

He had initially planned to join the cult and continue working as a double agent. However, soon as he entered the ranks of the proclaimed Death Eaters, he realized that he had made a fatal mistake. He had underestimated them.

And now the price of that underestimation came in the form of being kept hostage and tortured ruthlessly for information on the Ministry.

"I will not tell you anything," he remembered the words he had kept repeating in front of his captor, words he had kept repeating to himself even in order to steady his unstable state of mind. But now he wasn't so sure of how long would he be able to stay firm.

The door creaked open and he lifted his head, bracing himself for the torture that would commence shortly. The darkness made it hard to see but he was able to perceive that the man who had just entered wasn't as tall as the one who had kept him hostage.

He seemed to be holding a glass and as he edged closer, Nathan saw that he was limping as if his right leg was awfully crippled.

"Drink it."

Nathan hadn't heard the soft but hollow voice ever before throughout his stay with the Death Eaters. His mind blanked out for a second, not knowing what he should do. However, the person in front of him crouched down on his knees and gently touched the glass to his mouth.

"It's just water," the voice became even softer, "I'm not here to hurt you."

"Then... Who are you?" he croaked out hoarsely and ended up coughing.

There was a short pause in which he made him drink the water, after that he replied, "just a fellow prisoner." His voice broke at those words, the softness in his tone quickly replaced by bitterness.

Up close, Nathan could see that the man had longish dark hair that curled slightly at the edge of his collarbone and striking blue eyes that seemed to glow even in the dark.

"Why are you not chained then?"

"Because unlike you I don't intend on escaping," the reply was immediate yet sad, "I guess I've just given up."

Nathan recoiled at the response. Before him was a man who claimed to be a hostage, just like he was. Yet it seemed that he had been held captive for so long that now he had no other option, no other chance of escaping, as if he had come to terms with his pitiable fate.

He feared whether the same would happen to him. For the first time, he felt as if there was really no getting out from the cage he was stuck in, no one would come to his rescue and he would just stay there helplessly until he died.

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