Page 89 of Santiago's Conquest (Four Dark Horsemen 1)

Whatever the fuck that means.

My pneumonia had been just the beginning, and ironically the easiest shit I’ve experienced here.

They would beat me, starve me, and even forcibly pour water into my mouth and then not give me permission to relieve myself so they could see how long I could hold it in.

So I could build my resolve and character, they said.

They also left me with rats in basements for days, enjoying how they bit into my skin and watched me fight them off through the camera.

If at any time I lasted less than their prediction, than his prediction, I got punished.

Endless beatings followed by throwing me in cold pools where they added salt to irritate my wounds.

Until they got bored with it too, and Andreas found something new.

Fights where they bet an insane amount of money and whoever wins gets it, the condition being that one of the fighters has to die.

Where’s the fucking entertainment otherwise, right?

And I did it too, so I could survive, even though I vomited every single time it happened.

But somehow after my fifth kill, I don’t want to do that anymore. Even disgust with myself no longer shakes me in agony. Slowly, all emotions have left me and become just a fleeting memory in time.

Zeroing my gaze back on my reflection, a bitter laugh slips past my lips when my father’s words echo in my mind.

Survive, survive until you can beat them.

I’ve done everything in order to survive because my father was supposed to come and save me.

Fucking find me.

But after one of many vicious tortures with no silver lining in sight, I gave up hope, and burning anger replaced it.

Harsh, vindictive anger that also demanded I survive, but only so I could find my father and show him I don’t need him in order to live.

Monsters are born in the darkness of despair and agony, in the land where dreams don’t exist and only nightmares remain.

Turning off the water, I go to the mattress in the corner and drop onto it, resting my back against the wall, and close my eyes to get some rest, my body too exhausted to even think, because another fight looms ahead of me.

Once upon a time, there was a boy named Santiago Cortez.

Whose parents didn’t love him enough to search for him.

So the only things keeping him alive and lullabying him to sleep then waking him up in this cruel world that constantly hurt him were the thoughts of revenge.

Revenge on all those who destroyed the boy and made him become a monster.

A monster who can’t stand his own reflection.

* * *

Rattling of the cell door instantly snaps my eyes open, my body tensing, and I sit up, schooling my features so no one will see my internal struggle or, God forbid, pain.

Vulnerable monsters and people die quickly, that’s why you need to always wear unbreakable armor.

Covering my eyes from the harsh light brightening up the rusty cell, I focus on the floor where black, polished leather shoes come into view, strolling inside casually, their owner probably fucking grinning too.

Andreas.

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