Chapter nine
It's eerily quiet today, and the stillness sets my nerves on edge. The guards aren't as aggressive as usual, but I feel even more unsettled instead of feeling relieved. This kind of quiet—the kind that hangs heavy in the air—it's always the calm before the storm. And the deadliest storms are always preceded by a silence like this.
I glance around at the others trapped in this wretched cage with me. Their faces mirror my unease. It's not just me. They feel it too.
"Lilly," Savannah whispers beside me, her voice soft but urgent. "Look at Will. He doesn't look so good."
"He always looks like that," I reply flatly, my eyes flicking to him.
"No, Lilly," she presses, her brow furrowing as she studies Will. "Everybody's tense today, but him—he's different. Look at him. Something's off."
Her eyes narrow as she focuses on him, and for a moment, I let myself follow her lead.
The longer I watch him, the more I notice. His eyes flit to the guards, cold and calculating, his lips moving silently as though in conversation with someone I can't see. He's studying them. Every gesture, every step. Savannah was right—he's in the middle of something.
But what truly catches my attention are his hands. His fingers twist and curl unnaturally, almost insect-like, their movements jerky and deliberate. A shiver crawls up my spine as I stare, transfixed.
"Were his fingers always like that?" Savannah whispers, her voice trembling.
"No," I murmur, the realization settling over me like ice. "He broke them."
The unnatural angles of his ring and little fingers make sense now. They're bent in ways they shouldn't be, reminders of pain no one should ignore—but he moves them as if the agony doesn't touch him. I'm certain they weren't like this before. I would've noticed if they had been when he talked to us before .
Now, his broken fingers dance in eerie, rhythmic patterns, entirely disconnected from the torment they should bring. It's almost as though they have a life of their own, and that thought is more disturbing than I care to admit.
"Oh my God," Savannah breathes, her voice cracking. "H-he's crazy. My fingers hurt just looking at him." She clutches her hands together, her wide eyes darting between me and him.
"He knows something," I say sharply, my tone low but firm. "There's a reason for it— I think. We have to be careful. He could be dangerous, whatever this is. Don't draw attention to us." My gaze locks with hers, and she nods faintly, swallowing hard as she lowers her voice.
"Maybe," she mumbles, her words barely audible. But the doubt lingers in her expression.
As I glance one more time at his hands, I see the steel bracelet down to his knuckles; he's taking it off .
Something is coming. They're definitely going to take prisoners, yet it's the first time they've acted this out of character, and he knows it.
The stillness shatters with a sharp, metallic clang. My head snaps toward the source, my heart already pounding. The guards. They're banging on the cage doors now, loud and relentless, the sound ricocheting through the air like gunfire.
"Get up!" One of them barks, his voice rough and guttural, making my stomach lurch.
They're not just shouting. They're moving fast, their boots pounding against the ground in chaotic rhythm. My chest tightens.
The guards usually come for one. Sometimes two. Never more than three. But this time, they're shouting at all of us. Herding us like animals.
"They're taking everyone, fuck." I whisper, the words barely escaping my lips.
Savannah's head snaps toward me, her face pale as the realization dawns on her. "No," she breathes, shaking her head as if denial will stop it. "No, no, no—"
The cage door screeches open, and the guards pour in like a swarm, grabbing the nearest bodies without hesitation. A man across from me starts to fight, his screams ripping through the air as they drag him out. He doesn't make it far before they slam him to the ground, his cries cut off in a sickening thud.
Savannah clutches my arm, her nails digging into my skin. "Lilly, what's happening?"
I can't answer her.
My throat feels like it's closing. My eyes dart to Will, who hasn't moved an inch. He's watching the chaos unfold with an eerie stillness, his lips still moving in that silent, unsettling way.
"Move!" a guard roars, yanking Savannah from my side.
"No!" I scream, reaching for her, but it's useless. She's dragged away, her cries fading as another pair of hands grabs me.
I thrash against them, but they're stronger, rougher. My arms are wrenched behind me, and I feel the cold, biting restraint of ropes around my wrists. My feet are next, bound so tightly I can barely move. Then the blindfold comes, plunging me into darkness.
"Lilly!" Savannah's voice comes again, distant, terrified.
"I'm here!" I shout back, but I don't know if she hears me.
I feel myself lifted, carried like dead weight. The air shifts as I'm hauled out of the cage, and the sounds around me grow louder—shouts, cries, curses. There are so many voices, far more than I'd ever imagined.
I'm shoved into a hard, unyielding surface, the cold metal pressing into my side. It smells like rust and sweat, and the air feels stifling.
The murmurs around me grow into a cacophony of fear. I try to focus, to make sense of the chaos, but my thoughts are muddled, tangled in confusion and dread. Somewhere in the distance, a siren wails, slicing through the tumult, and I realize that this is no ordinary situation—I'm caught in something far darker than I could have ever anticipated.