Ugly?
That was the first thing Ezkiel thought upon hearing the prisoner's words. It seemed a little insane to think about that after all the pain he was feeling, but Ezkiel had never been called that before.
— By the Fragmented! Look at your face! It seems I was the first one to break the news!
The prisoner laughed as loud as he could. His laugh, both beautiful and sad, slowly faded. He looked at him once more, his amber eyes narrowing.
— Perhaps I really was the first... I'm sorry, boy, but you're not one of the beauties a man like me would want to see after years of imprisonment!
A low laugh leaked into the room this time, like a bad joke kept for years in this untamable darkness, where only the chains and the man remained.
— I just want to go home!
Ezkiel's high-pitched voice seemed to be in perfect tune with his words. His battered body also wanted to go back home.
The man stared at him in silence. He observed the boy's plea with discomfort, knowing it wasn't possible to go home. No prisoner from that place had ever returned. And it wouldn't be the beaten, malnourished, and completely injured boy who would leave this hell. The prison was already bad at the time of its construction; who knows what it's like in the current world.
— Ah, boy, don't cry for what's already gone! One of the truths of this world is that everything always tends to get worse. The good will always be the present, and the best will always be the memory! So, Ezkiel, enjoy your now. Your situation could be worse... And soon it will be!
He let out a great laugh, as if mocking this truth.
— Listen to my words, boy, this is a treasure no one in all these lands will tell you.
The chained man had a wise air about him, but the way he spoke seemed more like a drunkard's philosophy. Something Ezkiel couldn't understand.
— This dream makes less and less sense! Shit, shit, shit! I just want to wake up!
The high, childish words left his mouth in enormous frustration. At this point, Ezkiel no longer cared about remaining silent. He was tired of this whole dream and its madness.
He waited in silence for some sarcastic response, a life lesson, a crude laugh... or all of them at once. But nothing happened, only the endless silence.
Staring at the man's face, Ezkiel noticed a different expression emerging. A mix of dread, disbelief, and ironic frustration. His eyes narrowed, analyzing Ezkiel's every movement as if they were unique. A crooked smile, his mouth trembling slightly between anger and entertainment, appeared and disappeared with each thought, until his mouth opened in a great sigh.
— Who would have thought... A Dream Collector... And they still say I don't know this world! As I said, fate always tends toward the worst! I always knew I was the most hated, but to this degree?
A sad laugh escaped his throat, a demonstration of anger against the world itself, against his own destiny.
— To send the Dream Collector... It really is one of your great desires to erase my existence from this world! My deeds weren't enough, now... my dreams...
A funereal atmosphere settled in the room. The pain Ezkiel felt upon entering the dark room returned, with a terrifying pressure in his core, trying to tear his organs apart from the inside, forcing space open for something to erupt from within his being that he didn't even know existed.
The boy fell to his knees amidst the chains, in front of the man who just stared at him with the piercing eyes of a predator. Ezkiel began to cry red tears of blood, while scarlet drops trickled from every orifice on his face.
Confusion filled his mind, mixing with the pain. He could no longer think, and every time he tried, he felt his organs being ripped apart from the inside. The only action he managed, with great difficulty, was to lift his face and look at the chained man before him.
For his part, the man just watched him die there, without any reaction.
He stared in silence while his own existence was killing the boy. His eyes narrowed further, analyzing every second of the pain Ezkiel was suffering, just waiting for it to be over soon.
However, he was resilient.
He was holding on for too long, and what should have been a quick death had become torture.
— Enough! Dammit, boy! Couldn't you just die already?
All the pressure in the room vanished, as if it had never existed.
Only the blood that bathed Ezkiel's body and his memories of the extreme pain remained of the scene.
— I thought I could give you a quick end! Your expected return home, wherever you Dream Collectors come from!
Ezkiel was still frozen, recovering from the shock of having almost died again.
This nightmare never ended.
No one could be trusted.
You were never safe...
Slowly, he was beginning to understand how things worked.
Slowly, he gripped the dagger with both hands, maintaining the strength in his fists.
If the man tried again, he would try to attack first. He believed he could last long enough to land the blow if he was mentally prepared.
— I don't think that will be very useful against me, Collector. But do as you see fit... I won't attack you again, so just do your job already.
The man tilted his face forward and gave a handsome smile. He spoke as if to an old friend.
— Devour my dream. Kill me!
The dagger loosened in his hand. Never in his mind had he thought of killing someone, and now a man was asking to be killed. Even though just moments ago he was thinking of defending himself, the idea of killing someone was very much the opposite of what he believed. Hurting to protect himself made some sense. However, after everything he was going through, other paths were opening up.
He hadn't stopped to analyze the changes in his mind.
— Kill you? No... Why?
Ezkiel's voice came out trembling at just the thought of the act. The man, in turn, began to laugh loudly again, unable to stop until his voice failed.
— Why not? What kind of Dream Collector are you that doesn't want to kill me? Isn't that what you're here for, Ezkiel Arcs? To kill me and collect my dream?
The prisoner had a mocking air in his voice, amusing himself with this cruel fate.
Ezkiel looked at him and screamed in desperation.
— No, no! I just woke up in this place. I was running from those creatures and found this space. I don't want to kill anyone!
Please! Just end this hell already... I feel like my mind is going to break at any moment... I... I can't take it anymore!
— Well... I'm sorry to inform you, my dear visitor, but the moment you opened those doors by breaking the sigil, you sentenced me to death. And, if you're not quick, yourself as well!
A simple and enigmatic smile appeared on his face. He acted playfully, but he held so many truths that Ezkiel couldn't even process them. Without a doubt, this prisoner was the most unique being he had ever met in his entire life.
— So, it makes no difference to me if you take my life or if they do. Actually, on second thought, I'd prefer you do it! I don't want to give them the satisfaction of having found me alive!
Ezkiel froze.
This world was bombarding him with information nonstop, and he had no time to analyze it properly. He wanted to ask questions, but he didn't even know where to begin. And the traumas he had lived through still echoed in his subconscious, leaving him in a numb and lost state.
— They?
— Of course! Some motherfucking acolytes of a Fragmenter!
He looked at Ezkiel, noticing his confusion and how completely lost he was. The prisoner forced himself hard to hold back a laugh.
— By the Fragmented, boy, you really don't know anything... How did you fall into this war?
Before Ezkiel could open his mouth to answer, the prisoner continued to speak. But now there was a new emotion in his voice.
Pity.
Something Ezkiel recognized from a great distance, like a disturbing experience for his body, which shivered with strong chills, similar to pain, completely unaccustomed to such a tone.
— Come on, boy! You don't have much time...