A soft laugh reaches me as the prisoner quirks an eyebrow. “Clearly.” His eyes twinkle, and he’s almost handsome if you can look past the layer of grime that coats his skin.
“So, what are you in here for?” I ask, hoping to divert his attention from my absolutely sound mental health.
It seems wrong to rub it in other people’s faces that I have so much inner peace.
We’re all on different journeys; no need to get braggy.
The prisoner slumps to the floor, his back resting against the wall. He’s rail-thin, and unlike me, he isn’t chained to the floor.
I’m only a little bit jealous. (I’m a lot jealous).
“The same reason as everyone else,” he answers, shrugging. “At some point over the last millennia, we’ve become a thorn in Need’s side.”
I stare up at what must be a thousand cells carved into the stone and frown. “Why does she bother keepingeveryone alive? I figured she’d just kill people without remorse.”
“From what I’ve heard, Need has a thing for power. She hoards it worse than dragons and keeps us just in case we become useful.” His eyes flash, and the anger there matches the bitter bite of his words.
I hum thoughtfully. That means that everyone in this prison is powerful in one way or another. And yet none of them even dares to speak.
Need hasn’t just imprisoned these people.
She’s silenced them.
My odds of escape fall from zero to negative ten.
“Any tips for prisoner life?” I ask in a muted tone, trying not to let the despair win.
He sighs, dejected. “Yeah. You should know… they’re going to do whatever they want to you, whether you fight them or not.”
His underlying meaning has my spine straightening. “So, I should just give in? Let him do whatever he wants to me?” I all but spit.
I don’t miss the way his hands turn to fists against the stone.
“No. I’m saying that fighting won’t change what they do to you. But it will change how you feel about yourself. If you fight, your body will hurt more… but at least your soul won’t die.”
He whispers the last sentence so quietly that I almost miss it. Then, he crawls back into the shadows, making it clear that he’s done with our neighborly chat.
The next hour crawls by, and I spend it (unsuccessfully) coaxing Cerberus to bite my hands off.
Eventually, he gives me an annoyed look before padding back into the darkness below. He’s less than impressed with my attempts to have him remove the objects responsible for head scratches. From the scars covering his body and all three heads, I can’t blame him. The poor guy looks like he’s been through horrible things. He deserves all the love.
Without the monstrous puppy to distract me, dark thoughts are quick to creep in.
I’m not enough. Sin believed in me, and I failed him. I failed everyone. It’s all I ever do.
Soon, Leon is going to come back, and he’ll do whatever he wants to me. I won’t be able to stop him, because no matter what I do, I’m weak.
I don’t deserve to be saved. I’m not a good person. Good people don’t let their friends die. Good people don’t hurt the ones they love.
All I bring is pain.
The guilt and horror twine around me, their barbs sinking into my skin. My sobs come freely, and this time, no one tries to hush me.
I alternate between crushing anguish when I hear the thoughts and panicked hyperventilating every time I remember how small this space is.
At some point, when I’m curled up in the fetal position, thinking I deserve death, sleep blissfully claims me.
Chapter 31
