Another YouTube Fairytale: Nate's Life In The Prisons; Book 2

Chapter 11 - The Hunt

"A what?"

"A hunt. You'll enjoy it, Nathan, I promise. You skip every year, and I insist you go this year." Dark stood up, walking towards Nate.

"Why is it such a big deal that we do it this time? You- we only need one more person for the games, right?" Nate turned back to the bread crust on his plate, poking the stale crumbs around.

Dark placed a hand on his shoulder. "That's why you must go. It'll be a while before another comes down, especially since we missed the last serving girl who came."

Nate sighed, face still down at his plate. "What are the games even for? You kidnap all these servants and fallen Hopes, and why? Entertainment?"

"There's more than that, Nathan. It's important that we remember what makes us Daggers. Our hate for those up above, the ones that shun and kill us. The games put them in our place - forced to kill each other just to survive in the dungeons. We do it to punish them," he leaned a little closer, giving him a friendly rub on his back. "The ones who killed Cristina."

Nate stood up suddenly, his stool falling over. It was like someone else was in his skin for that instant. "Fine, I'm going." Nate started out of the room, stopped by Dark's voice.

"Aren't you going to finish your bread?"

Nate paused, taking a breath. "I've lost my appetite."

........

Nate and the other Daggers on the hunt had been camped outside the Jailer's hut for a couple minutes now, waiting for the man to come out. Nate hadn't ever seen a real Hope before, but the young man who they found on the Jailer's doorstep was not what he expected. He was just barley younger than himself, with brown eyes and hair. And he wasn't nearly as cowardly or meek as he expected either. Rather, he held a sense of curiosity that made Nate himself curious.

Nate leaned over to one of the other Daggers, a bone-thin woman with pale brown hair that had been falling out in clumps. "Do you always wait outside the hut?"

The woman nodded and smiled, showing off the three teeth she had left (the others had come loose or broken when she tried her hand at eating a prisoner alive. She failed.) "They always go there. If they's a servant-type, they havta go give the jailor 'his dinna, and if they's a Hope, they hide away real quick. They know we cain't stand the light."

Nate nodded, avoiding her gaze. it was true that most Daggers couldn't stand light. Living in the dark so long, their eyes had grown too adjusted, and now if they saw it, they'd often go blind. Luckily, Nate had been staring at his secret light for a while, so he was one of the few who could still take it. Still, he didn't want anyone to know that - it wasn't Dagger-like behavior.

The woman, clearly excited for someone to be talking to her, nudged Nate with her bony elbow. "Aw, chin up! The jailor knows that the royals don't like Hopes, neither. So he always sends them out eventually. 'E's just delayin' it. I give 'im a couple more hours."

"Perfect." Nate rested his arm on his knee, preparing for long hours of murderous boredom with this crazy woman.

That's when the door opened. The other Dagger winced silently, seeing the light come out of the hut, but Nate looked straight ahead. He could see him - the Hope. He was outside, all on his own.

"Good luck out there, Matt!" Came the jailer's voice from inside.

"Thank you, Joey!" The Hope called back. Nate could see the light going away as the jailer slowly closed the door, leaving the Hope in the darkness. At least for him. Nate and the other Daggers could see fine. Nate nudged the woman beside him.

"Light's gone," he said, "and the Hope's out early."

The woman licked her lips. "Oh I'm gonna-"

Nate put up a finger as a warning. "No. We're not going to eat him."

The woman had a look of confused disappointment for a second, before it melted back into her crazed delight from before. She rubbed her hands together, turning to the rest of the Daggers. "Alright boys, the Hope's out, and he's at the four paths. Now's our chance!"

Nate followed the other Daggers as they approached the Hope, standing confused in the darkness. Aren't you going to run? Nate thought to himself. He watched as a Dagger placed his hand on the Hope's shoulder. But he didn't scream. He just squeezed his eyes shut, as if that would make them all go away.

The others Daggers quickly circled him, in a move that would keep him from running, but it wasn't actually necessary. The Hope wasn't actually running. Not like it mattered to the other Daggers, though. Nate was the only one who noticed.

Another Dagger crawled up slowly, feral, like a beat in the woods, stalking it's prey, and wrapped his long, bony fingers around the Hope's ankle. Nate searched his face for any type of reaction. He shivered, but didn't run, or scream or kick. Watching the Hope, Nate started to connect the dots; coming out early, not fighting back, despite the clear terror in his face... the Hope was testing the waters, trying to see how far they'd go, what they'd do with him, and where they'd take him. It was a clever move, for someone lost in the dungeons. Follow the ones who know the way. But that would only work if the Daggers didn't kill him first.

The Daggers caught on that the Hope wasn't going to move, so rather than the usual all-at-once attack, they seemed to decide silently, unanimously, to drag out out, doing everything possible to terrify him. Every hand that grabbed the Hope was slow and deliberate, until one of the Daggers leaned in, toward his ear, whispering, "I haven't felt the smell of a Hope for a long time."

Growing impatient, the attack sped up, the grips becoming tighter as the three-toothed woman wrapped her arms around him with a deathlike grip. Two others grabbed his knees, sending him to the ground. They quietly gigged and laughed, crawling around him like rats. Nate himself was unsettled by the scratching sound of their nails on the stone floor, watching someone pull his hair back and slam his head against the floor.

"And that makes 6 for the arena." Someone said.

The Hope's head moved back up. "Arena?"

Nate panicked, finally hearing the Hope's voice. When he was silent and still, it was easier to see him as nothing, just another pillar in the dungeons, but the voice, the eyes, now more open and calculating, darting around for any information they could take in - Nate saw a person. He could swear that those eyes had been staring at him.

In an instant, Nate rushed over and pushed the Hope's head back on the ground, as the other Daggers reached for his face. Nate pressed his hands against the Hope's mouth and face, waiting for him to loose breath. It came slowly, but it did come. The eyes closed again, and the Hope was just as silent as before. It eased Nate's anxiety in some small way, but not enough.

He stood back up, watching some of the others drag the Hope along by his arms. Nate looked back up towards the jailer's hut, seeing a sliver of light through the cracks. He wondered if he could see that light again when the door opened. And if the hunts were worth it, if it meant he could see it.