Chapter 2: A Lonely Woe
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~~~ [START]
{16 years later}
In a completely white room, with walls that stood like mirrors.
"Watch the dick, man," a boy said, watching as his legs were being chained by a guard, properly locking his body to a silver restraining bed.
He laughed as the guard looked up at his face.
"Come on," he whispered in an effort to make his voice sound seductive. "Take it slow, baby."
And the guard frowned, suddenly throwing a full-powered punch to the boy's exposed privates.
Ash couldn't protect himself because his hands were also locked upward to the sides of the metal bed.
He cried when the guard's fist sank into his balls. But with the pain came his laughter.
The guard smiled when he saw him do this. His grin was so wide that Ash shook his head in laughing disbelief as he witnessed it.
"When I get out of here," Ash said, pain still lingering in his words, "I promise, I will kill you."
But before the guard could snap, before he could give Ash a beating he hadn't given in a while.
BEEP!
A sound filled the room, interrupting his actions.
"Go on, boy," Ash taunted, spitting on the floor where the guard stood. "Your owner is calling."
The guard grunted, biting his teeth. Killing intent sparked in his eyes, yet hesitation sparkled brightest.
"Today," the guard finally said, grabbing the back of Ash's head and pulling it closer, "you are going to eat my 'shit' for dinner."
Then he walked away, leaving Ash lying on the restraining bed, his arms and feet locked tightly, with his body sleeping upright, facing a one-way mirror.
There was silence for a while.
"I'm beautiful, aren't I?" he smiled at his reflection, admiring his naturally masculine physique, his short dark hair that reached his nose, and blue shining eyes that pierced the mirror. "It's all natural, baby," his voice continued, growing cockier by the second. "It's a shame this place only has dick… AHHHH!"
An electric bolt jolted him in pain as the restraining bed shook violently, conducting energy and giving Ash a long, brutal electric shock.
"Okay!" he shouted, breathing unevenly and eyes holding back tears. "I'll stop talking, okay!"
He shook his head, tears finally dropping from his eyes.
Then he stared at his reflection, or in a sense, the people who were seated behind it in the other room.
No smiling expression. No jokes. Just anger.
One so sharp it could cut like a blade.
Then suddenly, Ash could feel the room begin to freeze.
His heart started pounding, nostrils flaring as he noticed how even his breathing had become intensely difficult.
Saliva started dripping from his lips, fluids like tears falling as his eyes and skin began swelling.
And from his fingertips, pure, iced, frosted crystal started forming, freezing his hand.
Then his legs, his torso, and his whole body.
His eyes had remained open, causing even them to be covered with what seemed to be pure ice.
And on the other side, watching through the one-way mirror, a dozen men wearing coats exchanged words of information.
Some typed on keyboards to the far left, while others observed Ash's body, which was still freezing from the cold.
"Test experiment 92B is a failure," one of the coated men said, holding and reading out a report. "All environmental controls succeeded; vacuum exposure controls succeeded." He hesitated, looking at a man who was seated in the middle of a large desk, right next to the one-way mirror they used to observe Ash's figure. "Death of subject 411, failure; Operation 'Man in Space' unsuccessful."
The man held his head in frustration, and silent murmurs filled the room from the other scientists seated in the crowd.
"Prepare for Operation 'Black Hole,'" the man finally said, looking back to the scientist who had announced the results. The scientist nodded, then walked to the other corner, making his way to prepare for the killing of the unkillable.
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{16 hours later}
"Fuck off, dipshit!" A guard opened the door, pushing Ash inside with a kick. And Ash stumbled, falling to the floor face-first.
He laughed, standing up and dusting off his new, fully white clothes.
"Dipshit?" he acted surprised, "Come on, Johnny, I thought we were friends."
Johnny threw a plastic plate of salad right at Ash's face. But Ash tilted his head to the side fast enough for it to miss. He turned his eyes to the food and frowned when he saw its contents.
"What, where is the meat?" he said, moving and lifting the salad. "Even Brian's 'shit' would be better than this."
Johnny stared at him, lips half-amused.
"Enjoy your dinner," he said, then slammed the door shut.
Ash sighed, turning his eyes to a room filled with kids of a variety of ages, all scattered around wearing white.
He walked to one of the tables.
"Let me guess," said one of the boys who sat there, "you threatened Brian again, didn't you?"
Ash just shrugged his shoulders, half disappointed.
"The man punched me in the balls," Ash said, sitting on one of the chairs. "I literally felt one of them pop."
And Cain, another boy who was sitting next to them, spat out his food in laughter.
"Eat with your mouth closed!" Patrick shot, "You got your spit all over my clothes."
Cain giggled, shoving his face into his dinner.
Ash frowned, shaking his head. He couldn't even ask Cain for some meat since the boy literally ate like a pig. Everything—even the breathing—was disgusting when Cain was considered. He wondered why he even let the boy into his group.
Well, it wasn't actually a group if all things were to be considered, just friendship. A friend group of 3 people—nothing big, nothing outrageous, only enough.
"Man, I can't wait to be out of this place," Ash said, leaning back and turning his eyes to the ceiling. "Can't wait to finally know the taste of beer; getting drunk while smoking some weed; you know, the good stuff."
"How is that the 'good stuff'?" the silent Cain finally spoke out. "Bro, you haven't even tasted pizza, never mind even a birthday cake."
Yet Ash's expression remained somewhat unaffected.
"Yeah, but that's only the surface level," he said. "I want some drugs, you know, something that's so good it's able to turn people into addicts."
Patrick laughed at his words.
"I envy you guys," he sighed, looking at the 4 large white walls that surrounded them. "I was born here; it's different." He continued, causing an evident shift in the surrounding space. "You guys were kidnapped." And he laughed, as though their situation gave him too much amusement. "I mean, come on, man, you got snatched while entering a KFC."
Cain clicked his tongue, clearly annoyed by Ash's laughing voice. But deep down in the depths of his heart, the kid had to admit that it was pretty funny.
[Okay, shitheads, it's time to go to bed,] the speaker announced. But Ash could clearly tell that the person making the announcement was none other than Brian, his arch-nemesis.
So Ash turned to the cameras and pointed a middle finger with both his hands, smirking while shaking his hips in some attempt to imitate an exaggerated stroke.
Patrick stood up, then pulled him away.
"You gotta stop doing this, man," he said, moving to the dorms. "You are going to get us whooped again."
And Ash laughed, stopping his ranting, pulling Patrick close with a headlock, then ruffling his hair.
"Come on," he said, giggling while talking. "You aren't fooling anyone, Rapunzel, you enjoyed that shit."
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{Minutes later}
Lying on the top shelf of a bunker bed, Ash couldn't sleep. He just lay there, opening his eyes, with worry keeping away the darkness.
"You really think they will find us?" he asked, his voice for what seemed to be the first time that day sounding serious.
"Are you serious?" Patrick replied with a question, a sigh escaping his lips from the bottom bunker. "You might not get it now, but out there, like in the real world, you are a really big deal," he said, his voice sounding confident. "All outcast society is practically looking for you. 'Last descendant of the Immortals.' Damn man, even the name sounds cool."
Ash laughed when he heard him. But deep inside, hidden by his smiles and giggles, he knew that being found was a reality that would only happen in his dreams.
For 16 years, he had been there. For 16 years of his life. And not even once were there hints of being rescued—not even once.
But there he was, sharing what he knew was impossible, as if he truly held some kind of hope.
He drifted to sleep, eyes closing and being embraced by the comfort he expected to follow.
Until.
"How does it feel?" Patrick suddenly asked, causing Ash to raise a brow in confusion.
"How does 'what' feel?" Ash covered his head with a blanket, shutting his eyes once again, clearly noting how Patrick's words were hanging on the thread of sleep.
"You know," Patrick's words struggled, slowly drifting away. "Being Immortal."
Ash paused, but then dismissed all thoughts when the sound of Patrick's sudden snoring disturbed the silent space.
He sighed, wondering, mind still clinging to the question.
"Lonely," Ash whispered, eyes closing, fading with clinging consciousness.
Drifting to sleep. Approaching darkness.
~~~ [END]
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