Darkness Dissolves When the Door Opens

Hope

“We will not forget you, and we will help you. Though that day is not near and you all must be patience, it will come. You will not lose hope. We will come. We will bring you home. You will return to your families and homes safely. We will come”

That was the quote from the broadcast message they heard upon the radio pre Glenn’s death. With their unsuccessful escape, that broadcast was their only hope.

Yes, there was still hope. 

Hope…

Hope was vague. Hope was fiction.

But hope emerged for one split second.

One early morning, Jules yawned on his sleeping plank, lightheaded and depressed as usual. It’d been almost three weeks since their failed escape, and the woman who served the food changed. The food was normal, but the delight sensation wasn’t there anymore. She never smiled, and Jules never gave her a sympathetic welcome.

Why?

Because she was not Himari Ashoka. 

But that morning, Jules’ hope came back. That morning, when the ceiling shook and the ground rumbled, everyone got up from their sleeps. Dusts of cement and dirt fell from above their heads. The tumble happened again and again, as if someone was launching mortars to the Cathedral.

“What’s happening?” Jules asked.

Of course no one would know. 

The ground shook again.

The memory came to Jules’ mind. “We will come.” It couldn’t be them, could it?

But the shaking didn’t stop. It happened again and again and again. Jules wished his dungeon was upstairs, so there would be a chance of the mortar hitting the wall and freeing them. But on the other hand, Jules didn’t see the end of this.

Also, what did Jules tried to do? Should he pray? Should I try to escape? Should he plan something to trick the guard? Should I even find out what’s going on? But what should he do?

Finally, Jules decided to just sleep. The rumbling burst out dozens of times. The Cathedral could be the strongest house of God if it survived that many platoons of bombs.

Jules shut his eyes tight, jerked it to a sleep. He didn’t care. He closed his eyes, made it bleak. Transparent plugs stopped the sound into entering his ears. He didn’t need false hope.

Everyone else talked to each other, discussed. Asher said something about an American surprise attack. Jai said it might be the Dutch’s retribution. John said maybe it was the attack mentioned in the radio before Glenn was killed. Blake said it might be just raining bombs from British bombers. Whatever it was, nothing would change. To Jules, false hope like that was the thing that made one even crazier.

And Jules was correct, once again. The explosions ceased, leaving them to a now total silence. No one even opened their mouths.

A few minutes of awkwardness sprouted inside the dungeon.

Next thing everyone realized was the dungeon’s door opening. The bright light summoning inside the dark dungeon was like the door to heaven appearing by them eyes.

Asher, John, Blake, Jai, and Hal hoped so bad that allies would appear from that door, or maybe even the resistance.

Jules, on the other hand, didn’t give a single damn. He sat, looking down to his cell’s floor, hugging Ava’s doll with his right arm. 

But the men appearing weren’t like they had hoped. Jules was right on not hoping. Two very familiar Japanese soldiers marched inside the dungeon, carrying one beat up man. The man looked local, black shirt, almost bald hair, wounds everywhere covering his skin, and he was shutting his eyes shut.

Then, more and more soldiers came in, carrying more and more local men into the dungeon. Eight men were thrown to separate cells, one to Jules’. They looked younger than twenty-one.

One of those men… no, boys, slumped to Jules’ cell’s floor. Jules thought he was dead, but why would they throw corpses to the jail.

Jules didn’t approach the guy, or checked his condition. He sat by, firming Ava’s doll as tight as he could.

“Aren’t you gonna help the guy?” The doll spoke.

“I’m not touching him,” Jules said quietly, almost like a whisper.

“He needs your help. He looks pretty bad.”

“Ava, I don’t think−”

“Jules, do it!”

Jules sighed and approached the guy. The first thing he saw was the guy’s missing pinky. Yamako did it again, but this time, it was to this poor boy.