Ganymede Galen
It was dark. Darkness, the kind little kids wet their beds thinking about. The type that is played out so well in films, the audience at the edge of their seats, scared and anticipating what might happen next. Eternal darkness; immortal darkness. The darkness that demons linger in. AbsoluteâŠ.nothing.
He awoke, stirring slightly before sitting up straight, his smooth, pale, and long fingered hands shot out from under the sheet and searched for his glasses in a frantic motion. Yes, he did need them. Yes he had been âPerfectedâ, as most would say. But his vision of perfection was not the norm. Glasses fitted him, and since he had them before âperfectionâ, he would have them after. Point and blank. No discussion. But back to the real problem at hand.
Ganymede, known more commonly as Gan, had always been plagued with nightmares. To demons, to end of the world, to dark angels coming and taking his soul, anything that could be thought of, Gan thought it. But nothing, nothing haunted him more than the night he fucked up. The night shit hit the fan. It was how he got thrown in here.
It wasnât on purpose. It wasnât my fault. He started it. Wrong place, wrong time. It could have been anyone.
Those were the thoughts that circled in his head 24/7. But today, no today he couldnât think such things. He was going to pray to a God he wished existed. It was a way to at least feel like he might have been forgiven. But not today. TodayâŠ.was something different.
With a shake of his dark indigo mane, Gan swung his legs onto the floor and looked around the room.
âI would like a nice button up shirt and a clean pair of jeans, if you would be so inclined.â He spoke in a calm, cold tone of voice to what many called âa hole in the wallâ. A miracle of sorts, he guessed.
âHave a pleasant day!â his room chirped back, making him scowl. At least it wasnât too chipper. And it was semi-polite to him; something he complained about immediately after being shoved into thisâŠcell. Hell. Thatâs what it was. Hell.
The door, or a spot in the wall since it looked exactly like the rest of the room, slid open and revealed a tall lanky man with brownish red hair and piercing silver eyes.
âTime to go, Galen.â He tried to speak in a tough and imposing manner, but the younger boy just slipped him a small smirk and stepped a little closer.
âNo need for formalities, though I am impressed you have managed not to slip after such a long time,â he said, âWhere are we going to on this fineâŠday?â As he spoke the older man stepped aside and let Gan through, walking him through the hallways, since it was almost like a maze. NoâŠit was a maze.
âThat information is not for you to know. ButâŠI could tell you this; down.â The silver-eyed officer glanced over at him quickly, the quirk of his lips almost unnoticeable. Unless you were Ganymede Galen.
With a nod of his head, Gan stared straight ahead, playing the role of the âgood boyâ who âis doing his time justlyâ and âis so nice and kind to the other officerâ and to make it better âhe never causes any problemsâ. What a load of bullshit. Ganâs bright teal eyes scanned the corridor, hopefully retaining the route he took in case he needed to escape.
The officerâs, or as Gan always called him, Mr. Krings, pressed his hand into a part of the wall and as soon as he pulled away a robotic voice sounded around him.
âConfirmed Mr. Krings, up or down? it spoke.
With a narrow of his eyes and a sigh he replied, âDown.â
Ouch! Ganâs head screamed out when the floor moved down so fast that he fell to the ground upon impact. Elevator, he rationalized. Since everything was blindingly white and smooth, it was hard to tell the difference.
âAlright there?â a rough hand gripped his shoulder in a non-menacing way and pulled him up slowly, keeping the unstable boy balanced throughout the whole ride.
When the floor stopped moving, Gan all but slumped into the older man, silently praising whoever existed above the skies for making it stop. It was likeâŠtorture in its own form.
Krings led him down a much shorter hallway, though it looked exactly the same as all the others. When they reached the end, he opened it much the same way the elevator opened and ushered Gan in less than kindly, receiving a minor glare from the younger boy before the door appeared back before him.
With a sigh Gan took off his glasses and stumbled his way onto the farthest bed from the door, and far from the window, and collapsed on it.
After rubbing his eyes and pushing some strands of hair out of his face, Gan put his glasses back onto his face and surveyed the room. It was likeâŠa bigger version of his own room. It has six cots, the one right under the window being occupied by a girl with platinum blonde hair, so white it almost blended into the walls around her.
The other four, since one was what he was on, were somewhat scattered around the room. There was only one hole that deposited clothes and the like, and that was it. Feeling not exactly safe, but not like he would have to be in any danger, Gan let his glasses fall right next to his bed and closed his eyes, hoping they darkness would refrain from consuming him and let him get a restful sleep.
But, what you wish for, is almost never what you get.