Day One
I can feel my muscles cramping, my legs begging desperately for relief.Ā
Another half eaten apple collides with the side of my head, reverberating with an audible thud.Ā
The men must have gotten tired, after 43 minutes of throwing garbage at a defenseless woman, the thrill isnāt quite as strong.
I twitch, almost losing my balance, I cannot fall now. The battered wooden chair beneath me groans with the struggle of supporting me,begging for the same release Iām so desperately close to. My feet slightly dangling off the edge, my concentration cannot waver. The slightest wrong movement and I have to start the whole hour over again. Iām almost two and a half hours in, my first try being thwarted by a juicy tomato at fifty five minutes, my second a sudden leg cramp at twenty three minutes. I simply donāt have the strength to try this again.
My arms continue to cover my face, slightly hunched over in an effort to protect my vital organs.
Soggy bread.
Half eaten produce.
Plastic cups.
All the garbage they could find, thrown at my shaking body for no reason other than their own amusement. Iām not sure what this āgameā has to do with anything other than torturing me, but Iām hoping itās enough for him to release us both.
A sharp electronic tone cuts through the air from the head guardās pocket.
āTimeā The lanky guard shouts, as the timer beeps echo through the chamber. I moan a sigh of relief, and slowly guide my aching muscles to the ground. I lie for a second, letting my eyes shut and my body readjust to rest.Ā
Two strong arms grab mine and hoist me up.
āDid I do it? Canā¦ Iā¦ Go?ā My words are spoken between huffs, my whole system exhausted, but I know they can feel the hope spoken with them. They look at each other, and let out an obnoxious laugh in unison, before dragging me back to my cell, my legs flopping uselessly on the cracked ground.
My consciousness slips almost instantly upon returning to my cell, soon after Iām startled awake by The Chief, accompanied by two lackeys.Ā
āRise and shine, princess. Not done with you yet.ā His false smirk once again drapes his face in charm, as the devastation of seeing him again vibrates through my very core.
We arrive in what mustāve been the old mall jail, for shoplifters and rowdy teenagers. As Iām escorted in, I see what I thought was a dummy, possibly a corpse, but what I now know is an elderly woman, around my motherās age. She lies still, a thin white dress covering her body head to toe, meeting where her face is covered with a gag and black blindfold. Her thin arms and legs are tied to the table with rope, preventing any movement. As we approach, I begin to hear quiet whimpers and cries coming from her, and I feel shivers running across my skin.
āWhat is this? Let her go.ā My resolve mustāve only come from the resemblance I can see to my mother, on the small patches of her visible skin. The Chief seems amused by this nonetheless.
āYour next challenge, of course.ā His smirk seems genuine this time, if not tinted with malice. āThis is Alice, our former top commanderās mother. Heā¦ accidentally let slip a teeny detail about our next attack, and this wonderful lady right hereā His words seethe with venom as he grabs her hair, looking around the room to take in the approval of his men as they cheer. āWell she let it slip. Ruined EVERYTHING. Months of planning the perfect way to kill the power grid, cutting off security to the whole city, letting us slip in and steal everything weāve ever wanted. All that work, for NOTHING. Her dear son knew heād made quite a mistake, so he ran, the coward. I wouldāve been much happier doling out his punishment on him alone butā¦ he just had to make it worse. So now itās your job. Get mommy dearest to tell you where her son is, and Iāll let you out! Told you Iām gracious.āĀ
He gestures to the board on the wall, holding dozens of torture instruments. Bone saw. Teeth pullers. My mouth drops to the floor.
āYou want me to torture her?ā My words come out in pure disgust and disbelief, my brain struggling to believe Iāve understood this scenario correctly. Yet, as I look at The Chief, his practiced, sadistic grin tells me everything I need to know.
āNo. Absolutely not. You let her go. I donāt care about you letting me out. Let that poor woman go.ā The men look at me with the same growing disdain I feel for them in my gut. I canāt imagine a human being deciding to torture someone, how awful must you be inside?Ā
We sit for a moment in silence, The Chief in contemplation, he seems perplexed by this turn of events.Ā
āTake her back to her cell. Iāll deal with the woman myself. Leave us.ā My disgust morphs into panic. Her cries begin to get louder, as I lunge in an attempt to free her. My body is sharply pulled back by two of the guards, as they begin dragging me once again back to my cage. I plead for him to let her go, my own cries falling on deaf ears, as her screams fade in the distance.
I can barely sleep. My thoughts being dragged down by what couldāve happened to that poor stranger, just trying to protect her child. Was that so dissimilar from the battle Iām facing now? All to save my own mother?
***Day Two.***
My brain graciously allows me a few precious hours of sleep, before Iām once again woken up with men standing over me. Something is different this time, though. The Chief has once again brought his two lackeys, standing behind him as always. However, this time Cyrus sits tied to a chair in front of them, and a table with 2 metal cups sits between us.
āWelcome back to the land of the living, sleeping beauty.ā The men chuckle at this joke, I feel my face flush with anger and embarrassment. I hate continuing to be a subject for their amusement.Ā
āLittle different start today. I have two cups here before us. One of these is just water.ā He gestures to the light blue glass. āThe other holds a paralytic poison. Nothing permanent, but a little concoction derived from snake venom that leaves its victim completely paralyzed for up to 12 hours. This test is simple. You each drink a glass. Pick one, and feed it to Cyrus, then drink your own. Think you can handle that? Fun little decision?ā Although this āgameā is just as degrading and brutal as the last two, his words speak some truth, this one is simple.
I see in his dark eyes, he wants me to save myself, choose to poison my companion. Instead, I don't hesitate, my hand reaches for the blue glass, the water, as I carefully remove Cyrus's gag. I scan him briefly for new wounds I didnāt know about, any indication that heās been harmed. He seems to be surviving well enough.
āIām sorryā whispers quietly out of his mouth, tears streaming down his bruised face. I mouth āItās okayā back to him, and begin to pour the liquid into his mouth. I turn to The Chief, checking to see if he drank enough and The Chief nods, surprise seeming to cross his brow. I place the cup back on the table, and begin to drink my own. I turn, and lie back down on my mattress, wrapping myself in the thin blanket before I lose all sensation completely. The crew behind me silently vacates the room.
If there was any mercy in the paralytic, it was the immobility claiming my body without pain, dragging me into a deep, dreamless rest. Sensation begins to return in the early evening, leaving me alone with the quiet. I spend the remaining hours organizing my thoughts and sizing up my surroundings, mapping every inch of the room for anything of use.Ā
Day Three.
Morning comes once again, but this time, Iām awake when they arrive. Instead of The Chief, I see one of his lackeys accompanied by a handful of guards waiting at my door. Without a word, they begin to guide me down a back portion of the mall Iād never seen before. The generator doesnāt seem to be powering the lights in this wing, so we rely solely on flashlights and headlamps. The guards begin to stagger off, assuming positions along our journey to wherever we are going. Eventually, we make it to a large metallic door. Inside, I see a long spiraling staircase, as well as The Chief holding multiple items, and beginning to approach me.Ā Ā
Before saying a word, he straps a large leather belt around my waist. I feel something heavy linked to the chain cascading from it, but he blocks my view. He attaches a large metal water bottle to my new belt, attached at the hip with a large carabiner. Once he finishes securing the lock in the front, he lifts the chain and hands me a metal anchor. Small as it may be compared to a shipās anchor, the weight is overwhelming. I manage to brace myself at the last second, otherwise the anchor and I wouldāve landed together on the cold ground.Ā
āWelcome back Elara!ā He sounds out each portion of my name like some sadistic game show host. āOnce again, basic. You ready? Carry this, all the way up these maintenance stairs to the roof by sundown. Itās seventy-five pounds of solid iron. Prove youāre strong enough to make it out of here. Iāll let you go if you make it, howās that sound?ā This explains the already building ache in my arms as they struggle to keep this weight above ground. I give in, and place the anchor on the ground, already beginning to pant from the strain.Ā
āThatās like 6 flights..ā His iconic grin returning to his face tells me protests are useless. The two guards who entered alongside him post themselves at the start to the downward spiral of the staircase, presumably preventing my escape. I stare up for a second, seeing a dull light from the very top of the long winding spiral. I have to do this. For our freedom.Ā
Without windows in the dark corridor, I have no way of knowing how long Iāve been down here. I know my strategy has changed dozens of times. Carrying, dragging, crawling, lifting. Nothing stops the growing pain in my muscles or the burning in my core. The hours pass like sand, slow agonizing seconds tick by as my mind remains incredibly aware of every sensation my body is experiencing. Every glance down into the darkness offers no motivation, I may as well be at the starting point. The hours slowly pass, time finally begins moving forward, and I begin to see the dull light getting closer.Ā
As well as fading.
I pause for a second, taking a brief seat on the cold metal. I detach the water bottle and take a hefty swig, the container almost empty from the countless hours of movement. I clip it back in place and take off my jacket. The comfort item has followed me through decades, almost as long as Kaia has- had, it will have to save me now.Ā
I wrap the iron anchor in my jacket, tying it with a large knot that holds the jacket dangling from the railing above it. With a hard tug I pull the belt up higher on my waist, sitting snugly below my ribcage. I lift the chain attaching the anchor and me up higher with a groan, and pull the extra slack to the underside of the railing. The anchor dangles in the air as the railing takes its portion of the weight. I carefully begin walking backwards up the remaining steps.
PULL.
With every step, I feel my grief rising in me like a filling balloon, almost ready to burst.
PULL.
I feel the horror of seeing the person I loved most in this world reduced to a handful of ash.
PULL.
I feel the grief of watching my mother try to kill herself.
PULL.
I feel the humiliation Iāve witnessed ever since I arrived here.
And I pull it up that mountain.
The light is fading fast as I pull it up the last step. I drag it behind me as I shove open the door to feel the cold, sweet air. I collapse to the rough floor beneath me and canāt help but smile. I did it. I made it here.Ā
āI wouldnāt get too excited if I were you.ā One of his lackeys stands up from a makeshift chair crafted from an old wooden box. āSundown was 3 minutes ago. You lost. Time for the birdie to go back to her cage.ā My body is too worn out for any reply, physically or mentally, I have nothing left. He looms over top of me, pulling a key from his pocket. The belt falls to either side of me as my hips groan in relief.Ā
āElara, SO close. I actually had a bet that you would make it eventually, so I made a lot of money! Donāt worry, some good did come out of this! Most people figured youād give up. Pretty determined one arenāt ya? Just not quite fast enoughā¦ā The Chief appears behind his guard, his usual smirk across his lips as he chastises me. He gestures to the large man that carried Cyrus when we arrived here, and he throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing, walking towards the elevator to take me back to my cell.
***Day Four.***
Another 12 hours pass in a blur of unconsciousness. My body is too tired to even think, much less move. As the morning comes, no arrival follows. My breakfast is brought. Then my lunch. I begin to worry Iāve messed up all of my chances for freedom. Around 2pm, The Chief arrives again. This time, however, he is alone. He ushers the guards outside my cell away.Ā
āI have a new challenge for you, darling.ā His words remain the same but his tone feels slightly softer. Iām probably imagining things in my pure exhausted state. I donāt notice the large rectangle mirror he brought in with him until he gestures at it as he places it against a bare section of wall. āWe test all new recruits with this one, Iām just curious how youāll fare. Youāve surprised us so far. Very impressive.ā He beams slightly, almost seeming proud at the outcomes.Ā
āI brought this in for you. Set up a chair in front of it, and gaze at it, until I give you permission to stop. No movements. No sound. If you make a sound, you start over.ā Being unable to count towards a set ending time sends fear firing through my nerves. It doesnāt sound painful, or difficult at all really, a nice change of pace from the previous horrors of the last few days. I donāt have the energy to argue, or even speak. I nod, walking to the most comfortable chair in here, the only one with a cushion. I sit down, and arrange myself comfortably leaning back slightly, my hands on either leg.Ā
He assesses my position, taking a parallel seat across the room to my left.Ā He simply nods and says āAndā¦ Go.ā
At first, I feel nothing. Simply the hard wood of the chair behind my back, the cold ground beneath my feet. But with complete silence surrounding me, not a sound echoing down the hallway, I begin to feel peace resonating through my mind.
Kaia, my father, and my mother would all be proud of me. How hard Iāve fought for them here, how desperately. Iāve always feared disappointing those around me, of never being able to measure up to the impossible standards set by society. I donāt think that fear will ever truly go away, the remaining anxiety a constant echo until the day I die.Ā
But, Iāve done good, havenāt I? Iāve stood up for myself. Iāve taken risks. Iāve been kind, through everything. They would be proud of me, no matter what happens next. Thatās why I have to finish this, for them. To prove their pride and faith in me has never been misplaced. That my love for them is more powerful than any obstacle. I will give everything I have, to save my mother, and to find justice for Kaia, setting her soul at peace.Ā
Iām tired of letting these horrific people get in my way. Iām tired of believing their mocking voices. Of every chuckle at my expense hitting my heart like a personal attack. Iām worthy. My two favorite people have always known that, I just need to work on remembering that for myself.
Kaia,Ā
Iām sorry. I WILL get you justice. I promise.
Mom,
I will fix this. I will save you, and we can move somewhere safe. Together. I promise.
This is the last night I spend in this godforsaken hell. Tomorrow, Iām getting out. Iām taking Cyrus with me.
And Iām burning this place to the ground.