Terror and Confusion

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Drake woke up inside his old room, which kinda startled him. Hadn't he passed out in the living area? Drake sat up, and immediately smacked his head on the top bunk. "Ow!" Drake yelped, ducking and holding his head. He frowned up at the top bunk, a little confused. 'I never hit my head on the bunk before.' Then he shook it off. 'Probably because I'm older." Drake thought with a tinge of sadness. Back then, he and Armen had been so young, so naive. So much has changed...

Drake shook off the nostalgia. How had he gotten in here in the first place? He assumed Caine must have brought him in here after he passed out, which Drake felt was both thoughtful and confusing. He knew Caine had been talking when he'd passed out, but couldn't really remember what he'd said. Oh, well. Drake frowned. Where was Caine, anyway? Not that he wanted him around or anything...

But he did seem to love sticking his nose in Drake's business. Drake stood, then took out the map he'd swiped from Collin's room yesterday. Pipes? Seems like Collin had tried to follow them... so that's what Drake would have to do as well.

Drake found the pipes relatively quickly, thanks to Collin's map. They were exactly what Collin had described; a neither-rack pipe that zigzagged throughout the Rig, then headed... East? Drake couldn't tell, he had no sense of direction. Screaming erupted in his ears, and he flattened them, trying to block out the sound. It didn't work very well.

Before long, Drake found himself in the cave where he, Grayson, and Armen had taken shelter from Caine's attack. Drake walked over to a blueprint, remembering how he and Grayson had spent about five minutes studying it, before they were forced to leave, because of Armen pulling that lever. Drake smiled, his feelings mixed with annoyance and fondness for his friend.

Armen may not have been the smartest in that moment (considering he blew up the whole Rig in that moment), but he had a big heart, and Drake missed him. He hoped his spirit had found peace, wherever he ended up.

Drake stepped past the lever and headed deeper underground, still following the pipe. 'At least it's relatively warm down here.' Drake thought, gazing around at the stone tunnel he was in. It was much warmer than being out in that blizzard, thank you very much. Drake fiddled with Grayson's old gun as he walked, wondering if it was still loaded. He'd lost Collin's journal somewhere, but he somewhat didn't mind. Grayson's gun seemed more important, anyway.

Soon, Drake lost his sense of time. He walked along the tunnel, away from the Rig, following the pipe. Flashes of red fire would show in the corner of Drake's vision, and screams echoed in his ears. The worst part? He barely reacted, he was so used to hearing it. Sometimes he could hear Caine laughing, having fun as he murdered humanity.

Drake didn't understand why his brother hated humans so much. He'd called them despicable, and in many cases he was right. Just look at what happened to Grayson's family, or the elves that had been enslaved. Or the people who would laugh at, or mock Drake's Ender half.

But Drake had also seen the goodness in them. Grayson's kindness to Drake, defending him when anyone else would have mocked and killed him. Armen, who'd stood by Drake his whole life. Though, Drake wasn't sure if he counted, since their whole friendship was based on a lie. For all he knew, Armen hated him now. The thought brought pain to Drake's chest.

Miya hadn't judged him, but she wasn't exactly human herself, she was an Elf. Still, it had to count for something that she hadn't alienated him, or tried to kill him thinking he was a monster. That had to count for something, right? Drake kicked a pebble. Three people, two of them iffy, didn't really make a great statement over why he defended them. The worst part? He couldn't think of any reason, other than Grayson.

What would happen when Grayson dies? Drake flinched, his ear flat against his head. The fact was, Grayson was human. Eventually, he would die, weather it be from an attack or old age. Drake, on the other hand, wasn't human. Even if he survives this game, Drake would outlive Grayson. For all he knew, Drake could live to be just as old as Caine. If I lost Grayson, would I be just as willing to kill as Caine? The thought terrified him. He didn't want to be like Caine, killing everyone who dares get in his way.

"I'm not-I don't do that!" Drake blinked, then turned his head, startled . Caine was walking beside him, looking offended. Drake stared at him. "Where in the End did you come from?!" Drake yelped. Caine blinked at him. "What do you mean? I'm literally inside your head." Drake shook his head, pushing down the relief he felt now that his brother was back. "No, I'm still mad at you." Drake grumbled, half to himself.

Caine frowned at Drake, his expression baffled. "Is this about your room?" Drake glared at him. "What do you think?!" He snapped back. Caine shook his head. "I don't understand why your so mad." He mumbled. "I was trying to be reassuring." Drake glared at him. "By reminding me that I'm essentially your slave?" He demanded. "By telling me that if you win, even if you let me have my body back, that I'll still be your prisoner?!" Drake turned his head away, ignoring the hurt that burned in his chest.

Caine gaped at him. "I-I don't think of you as a prisoner." He protested. Drake scowled at him. "Then, what am I?" Caine stared at Drake, apparently lost for words. Drake turned his head away. "Exactly."

Drake and Caine walked together in silence, Drake pointedly ignoring his brother. Caine sighed. "Talk to me." Drake shook his head. "No." Caine frowned at him. "Why are we following pipes?" He tried. Drake ignored him. "Does this have something to do with Collin?" He asked, looking alarmed. Drake kept his gaze fixed on the pipe. "Drake." Caine tried, reaching for his brother's shoulder. Drake pulled away. "Don't touch me." Drake's voice was intentionally cold.

Caine growled, then snapped his fingers. Drake flew into the wall, magic bindings around his limbs trapping him in place. Panic erupted in Drake's chest, and his eyes widened in panic. Caine approached Drake, frowning reproachingly. Flames danced around his fingers, but he didn't appear to notice. Drake whimpered as Caine came closer, stroking his face with smoking hands. "Shh." The demon coaxed, holding Drake's face in his hands.

Drake's body hung limp, all the fight seemed to drain out of him. Caine pressed close, trapping Drake in his magic. "Relax." Caine breathed, his breath warm on Drake's neck. Drake let out a high-pitched whine, and Caine pressed his hand against Drake's mouth. "Shh." Drake stared into his brother's silver eyes, and felt a stab of despair.

Caine smiled softly at Drake. "You'll be okay." He promised, his voice soft. Drake stared blankly at him, not believing it. "You'll see." Caine's voice was gentle. "Your scared, and confused, and I'm probably not helping."

Caine gazed at Drake almost lovingly. "But you'll see, once your by my side, that everything will turn out alright." Drake sniffled, turning his head away from Caine. He couldn't believe it. Caine was the enemy. Drake couldn't let him win. But the words rang hollow in Drake's head.


















Did he belong by his brothers side?

Drake's QuestOnde histórias criam vida. Descubra agora