Chapter eight
The days drag on, yet I'm just as clueless as I was on the first day they threw us in here. What are they doing to the prisoners they take every few days? And why haven't they taken us yet? The waiting, the uncertainty—it's gnawing at me, making me more anxious with every passing minute.
When they take someone, they almost always bring them back. Almost. The last time, they took three, but only two returned. One came back in horrible shape—screaming in agony, their legs clearly broken, barely able to limp as the guards shoved them into the cage. The other was silent, disturbingly so, but their hands… they were smeared with blood. I had to look away.
Both wore those cold, unforgiving steel bracelets. A sudden, chilling realization hit me — will wasn't the only one marked by them. I scanned the cage, eyes lingering on every prisoner. Each of them wore the same heavy, unyielding bracelets—except for me and Savannah.
For hours, no one went near them. It was as if the others didn't even notice they were back, as though their return was something to avoid entirely. The one with the broken legs mumbled and cursed to themselves, rocking slightly, while the other stared off into the distance, their eyes unfocused, as if they weren't even here anymore.
I couldn't take it anymore. The silence, the fear—it was suffocating. I had to know something.
I approached one of them, the one with the broken legs. He seemed the most likely to speak, his constant mumbling under his breath drawing me closer despite the unease twisting in my stomach.
I approached him cautiously, my breath hitching with every step. The man with the broken legs sat hunched over, rocking slightly, his mutterings barely audible. He seemed more likely to speak than the eerily silent one beside him, though the way his shoulders trembled and his fingers clawed at the floor set my nerves on edge.
"Are you okay?" I asked, my voice soft, almost hesitant.
He jerked his head up for a split second, his bloodshot eyes locking onto mine. Hatred burned there—so fierce and raw that it nearly made me stumble back. Before I could react, he looked away again, his gaze fixed on the floor as he continued muttering.
I strained my ears, leaning closer. His words were broken, interspersed with curses and breathy sobs. But then, amidst the chaos, two words stood out.
"Red gate. Black key ."
My stomach churned as I whispered,
"What do you mean, 'red gate'?"
His head snapped toward me again, his cracked lips twitching. For a long moment, he said nothing, his eyes wide—too wide—like an animal cornered and desperate. Then, finally, he rasped "Look for the red gate… only we can find it. B-but… we couldn't. We never found it."
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. His voice was barely human, raw and guttural like it had been dragged from the depths of his soul.
"What about the key?" I pressed, my voice growing more desperate with each attempt. "What key? What does it open?"
His breathing quickened, his chest heaving like he was fighting to keep himself from unraveling entirely. When he finally spoke again, his voice was a whisper, yet it hit me like a scream.
"black key for red door," he said, each word deliberate, his wide eyes boring into mine. "No key… there's no key. It's gone. Gone."
A chill ran down my spine as I stared into those eyes—hollow, terrified, and somehow knowing. Before I could ask what he meant, the sharp clang of metal broke through the tense air.
The guard.
It all happened too fast.
The guard slammed the bars with such force that the entire cage rattled, the sound like thunder in the suffocating silence. I stumbled back, my heart racing as the man flinched, his body folding in on itself like a broken marionette.
Without hesitation, the guard lifted his gun.
"No!" I screamed, but the word barely escaped my lips before the shot rang out.
The man's body jerked violently, then slumped forward, lifeless. Blood seeped from the wound, pooling beneath him in the dim light.
I pressed my hands to my mouth, a silent scream trapped in my throat. The guard's cold eyes scanned the cage, lingering on me for a moment that felt like an eternity.
It wasn't a warning. It was a message.
Don't ask. Don't try.