A Hero In The Dark

Chapter 30: Unforgivable

They tossed me into a cell a few days ago and haven't done anything to me since. The only things in my cell is an empty tray that I licked clean of food yesterday, an empty bucket that used to hold water, and another bucket to use as a toilet. As if the poor hospitality isn't enough, I can no longer sleep without nightmares; for every time I close my eyes, I see his face.

What do I do? Nothing. There isn't anything I can do but sit in the back corner of my cell with my knees tucked into my chest. I tried yelling for help through the bars of my cell. I've tried shaking the door vigorously to see if it would somehow open. I tried everything I could think of to escape. None of which worked. I only gave up when a Mogadorian came by to smack the bars of the cell with his long silver sword, nearly slicing my fingers.

Sometimes it's easier to breathe; other times all I can do is sob uncontrollably. Today is one of the days where I cannot stop sobbing. No matter what I do. I try Six's breathing exercises to try and reach a calm state of mind, but it does nothing in the slightest. I try not thinking like Nine, but it doesn't last. I even try being carefree like Eight to stay hopeful, but I just can't.

No matter what I do, my hands won't stop shaking. My body won't stop rocking. Back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. Again and again.

Regardless of how the time passes, not a minute goes by where I don't blame myself for these misfortunes. All I want to do is go home; far away from this place; far away from this war; far away from aliens of any origin.

I want to go home. I want to go home. I just want to go home.

It takes all my willpower to remind myself of why I left in the first place: to help the Loric. I tell myself that I'm helping right now by not giving Setrákus Ra the information he wants, but deep down, I don't know how much longer I'll last.

The following day, a group of three Mogadorians stop outside my cell. One of them dumps a bucket of cold water on me, while another proceeds to tie my wrists, blindfold and gag me. The water is chilling to the bone, but bearable; I shiver at its touch. It makes me feel uncomfortable and brings back my hatred for these mogs – as if it ever left in the first place.

They usher me along the corridors of wherever this place is, the blindfold making everything pitch black. I try my best to walk in a straight line.

"Right!" one of the mogs shout, shoving me hard to the right.

The impact is so sudden, I lose my balance and fall to my knees. Though I don't stay down for long as I am immediately picked up by the back of my shirt and forced to continue on.

When I'm ordered to stop, I feel a cold hand grab me from behind. Before long, I'm restrained once more to a wall and dangle by my wrists again, unable to touch the floor.

I think I'm left alone in the room for quite some time; enough to lose feeling in my arms again. Until eventually I hear someone enter. I still can't see or speak. Though I can hear just enough to make out the person walking toward me. I feel their hand touch my cheek gently. My only instinct is to back away, but I can't. They remove the gag, followed by the blindfold.

Setrákus Ra.

I'm not as afraid this time; though I know that nothing will change. Soon he'll ask the same question and the pain will return. And so, I wait, staring into his black soulless eyes with nothing but hate.

The question doesn't come.

"The silence you have given me has at long last come to an end. I assure you; by the end of today, you will give me the information I desire," he says instead.

I don't know what he's talking about. I don't know what he plans.

"I will never give you the information you want," I reply stubbornly.

He walks over to a wooden table holding different torture instruments, and I assume he'll use one of them on me once again. I stare at the gruesome tools with fear. He must see me do so because he watches me intently.

Anticipating my thoughts, he speaks rather slyly, "Oh no. Not this time. I have a different method of making you talk. Today is the day where I finally get answers."

I stare at him, fixing him with a sharp glare that tells him I won't talk, no matter what.

"If you don't believe me, see for yourself," he adds as a single dim lightbulb turns on ahead of me.

When it does, I am all but forgiving. I'm left to wallow in shock and disbelief at the person hanging by their wrists against the wall across from me. They are gagged, bloody, and beaten; their head tilted down as if they've been here for a while, drifting in and out of consciousness. Until eventually he looks up to reach my gaze.

Henri.