Page 47 of A Blackened Bond

I would hear them moving back and forth outside my cell throughout the day, chuckling and chatting gruffly to each other or moving some prisoner down the hallway as they hurl insults at them.

Each day was filled with more fear and anticipation of whenmytime would come, building up until I felt like I would crack. A scream living on the tip of my tongue, always waiting to be let free with the fear bubbling inside me.

Keys rattle at the door, pulling me from my thoughts as the guard’s voice is eerily quieter than the days he would throw my food in.

Footsteps enter my room as I curl up into my usual protective sphere, my arms wrapping over my head as I peek through the gaps. And that’s when I realise…there was more than one guard this time.

I keep my eyes closed tight, praying I am wrong. Praying they would go away.

‘This wasn’t my day’, ‘They weren’t here for me’.I repeated the words over and over until I felt a large hand grab my shoulder before painfully yanking me upright.

The shackles cut further into my skin as they wrap their hands around my wrists, a pained whimper leaving my lips as I’m met with two dark sets of eyes.

The two large men, who look to be in their thirties, tower over me with sinister grins lacing their lips before pulling me out of the cell.

I try to fight back and pull myself from their grip, but hadn’t much energy or strength left in me.

“Behave!” the guard barks, gripping my hand tighter. “Or you’ll get no food or water for a week.” His fingers dig further into my skin, a whimper leaving my lips as the pain twists my features.

The other guard leading us in front glances back, his eyes curving upward and pulling at a scar in his brow as he chuckles darkly.

“She could be a fun one.”

The guard dragging me along shakes his head, his lip twisting upward.

“You won’t want this one.” He glances down at me, “She’s to be stationed in Room B.”

The guard in front freezes, his eyes flickering between me and the guard beside me before shaking his head.

“Pity.” His tongue slithers out, licking his top lip, his gaze trailing down my body as a shiver works its way through me with the sinister look. “Fresh meat always tastes better after a bit of tenderising.” He sighs before turning and continuing to walk.

What did they mean? What is Room B?

Why did his face change when it was mentioned?

My heart begins to pick up pace, a tremor working its way through me as the guards pull me along down a long grey corridor. There are no windows, only large metal doors every few metres, ones that seem to look just like mine.

Voices can be heard calling out from them as we move past them. We walk until we reach a cement stairway, where they yank me forward and drag me down. We head down, floor after floor, the lighting growing dimmer as a strange stench permeates the air with each step.

Finally, we reach the end of the last stair, where I’m pushed forward and toward a black metal door—the only door on this level.

I try to take a step back but am pushed forward again, this time with more force as I slam into the door with a hard thud. They chuckle as my face scrapes off of the chipped black paint on the metal door, a small cut forming on my cheek from the impact.

“Open the door and move inside.” Orders the guard as he pulls out a blade and puts it against my back. “Now.”

His eyes narrow as I shakily unlatch the door. It opens only an inch or two with my strength before I hear an annoyed sigh.

The other guard stands beside me and gives it a harder push, and the door creaks open before I’m shoved inside.

I hit the floor, cuts forming on my hands as I try to catch myself, the shackles clanging off the cement and echoing throughout the space.

The huge room is at least ten times the size of the small cell I was in. It’s darker the further in you go, only a tiny stream of light falling from four old flickering bulbs above on the ceiling.

“W-where am I?” I ask, turning back toward the two guards still standing at the open door.

“Why the hell would I need to answer something like you?” The guard who pushed me spits, his expression darkening.

“Here.” He throws the blade in his hand to the ground near me before reaching for the door, a smirk lacing his lips, “You’ll need it.”

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