I'm sure I died without dignity. There was blood. And spit. And something wet leaked down my thighs—
The quiet, awful void that followed.
My lashes fluttered. I don't know how. Or why. But the doc continued waving ecstatically and my heart that had already stopped beating pinched and squeezed repeatedly—
It rose. It grew. It was changing! I could feel it rising—
Then expanding. The swelling—
And reforming—!
Fire raced from my back down to my toes; my tongue tasting bitter ash and wretched bile. My arms—! My legs—! Electricity. And cold, icy water—!
The muscles in my neck strained. Frost-bite infected my fingers, running down my palms—
The veins of my wrists withered and dried—
But soon…
They revived.
What did it mean to die?
I found myself crying—heaving—panicking—!
It was cramped inside; my body was unfamiliar—peculiar—strange—! Something was missing. Something was gone!
But a new energy roared. I screamed. Was my mouth even moving at all? The silent, piercing agony. The blazing, agonizing pain—
And then, the good doctor injected me again.
***
I died again. Was revived again. This infernal process repeated over and over again. He told me. He said.
This pervading energy was now my own! Eternally. Forever after. Pain.
I tried to swallow but couldn't. It hurt. There was something stuck. It was bitter. And sour; the dried blood sticking to my skin like dye. My eyes rolled and my toes curled from my own disgusting smell—
And all the while, fat, ugly tears trailed the wrinkles of his face. "It's a blessing!" He said. "I've blessed you! Me! I've done it. I've finally done it, Ren!"
His daughter. His pride, he told me. "I can do it, Ren…I can finally save you…but it's too late now…" Sniffles. And the forlorn cry.
The burn on my back was moving. My neck. My shoulder. My spine—!
***
There were fewer bodies within the cell now. Fewer fights. Less fesces. The space gradually emptied. And the food was more abundant.
Slowly, Edward fed me. Slowly, I regained a semblance of reality.
Perhaps I would've been happier had I remained oblivious to my surroundings. Perhaps it would've been better I didn't know the reality…
"Why were we left here, those of us that weren't compatible? Why didn't they kill us?" That boy that followed me. He told me to call him Pierre.
Edward rubbed his eyes. "I heard them talking. There's Beasts in the cells below us…" He whispered, his voice cracking.
"I'm gonna die like that! Just like Melvin…They're going to eat me! And mother won't even care!"
He bit his lip. Let it bleed.
He cradled my hand in his lap. And shook his head. "It won't happen. It won't!"
"I," he said, "won't give up. I won't just die like they want me to!"
"But Edward, what are we gonna do? Others tried. You didn't want to leave him behind!"
My eyes. My eyes were burning! My back was cracking—!
My lids twitched. My head rose—
"Hey. Hey! What's he doing?! His eyes—!"
***
I can't say what happened then. I don't remember.
Reason tells me I shouldn't remember. Because the way they looked at me changed. Because I was suffering.
I was alone in a cell without my brother. I was isolated from the rabble…
And dozens of guards were watching me. Observing me. Evaluating me!
Trembling, all I could do was retreat into the corner and hastily bow my head down, gnawing my arm. Because I was scared. Because they were scaring me.
Their eyes moved all over me! And their attention wasn't leaving. A continuous, slimy feeling…
It wasn't nice. Nor heartwarming. They looked at me as if I was a hideous beast; a monstrous animal that needed to be contained.
One they'd eliminate without hesitation if necessary.
"Doc says we shouldn't let him alone. We can't let our only success escape. But be careful. We don't know the full scope of his powers yet."
"Of course, brother." I heard it. The snickers. And the slapping of flesh on flesh. "We'll be sure to watch him closely."
"Don't forget to feed the beasts. The Trilling Vines Sect requested the delivery to be moved up. Make sure they're ready."
"Yes, yes, yes!" A slap on his back. "We won't forget, I tell you. Just go. We'll be just fine down here, won't we, little Noble?" The laughter that rang. The cruelty.
I squeezed myself into a smaller space. And tried not to breathe.
"The storage room was overflowing. You made sure to dump the bodies, didn't you?"
His mask, it gleamed in the torchlight. And his gloves tightened around the bars.
"Of course, leader. They've been suffiiciently dealt with. We threw the compatible ones in the pit. The others were fed to the beasts as per your orders."
The bars clanked—
I flinched, curling myself tighter in a ball.
"Good. We don't want the dead rising again."
"It was quite something, seeing their eyes pop like that…"
"We're moving from here soon. We can't have another incident like that. It would cause too much of a commotion. And our…patron…isn't here to cover us anymore."
"Tch. Of course, Her Royal Highness ain't no spring chicken, good sir—!"
A sharp cry. And the sound of choking.
Silence. And tension—
That squeezed.
"I told you not to speak of her. Will you listen only when I kill you?"
Hacking. Coughing. And the sound of a wheeze. "I won—I won't do it again, I swear! What does it matter anyway? He looks halfway dead, bro—Leader!"
"Regardless, if our patron hears of this…" A sigh. "He's the last of them. As soon as anything happens, we'll be ready."
The bars rattle. "Get him up. The good doc has another concoction he wishes to try."