βI AM NOT THE KIND OF BEING WHO COULD BE YOUR FRIEND. AFTER ALL, I'M NOT HUMAN, AND YOU'LL NEVER TRUST ME.β
The Monster | Eminem
DIALOGUEᴠColor ⦠#853c41 || THOUGHT COLOR⧠GREY
EIGHT-YEAR-OLD Zero Kisaragi gripped the bars of his cage only to shrink back when the electrical wires snapped at his contact. So they'd upgraded his little prison with electric voltz for all the times he'd tried escaping with Ren and always got caught or found days later. He glanced across at his brother who was in his own cage, laying on his side. The boy's sunken gaze averted his, the once chubby, cute face all angles and sharpness, bones protruded from his skin, and why wouldn't he be? Zero was in the same condition along with everyone else trapped in their little prisons. Alone. Helpless.
"Zero."
Ren barely whispered the name.
"Yeah?" He sent back out of habit.
"Overalls wants me to kill."
"No!" Zero inhaled sharply through his nose, whiffing awful smells. Smells he'd grown used to.
Ren's gunmetal eyes so much like his own gazed back, wide and yet resolved. "You know what'll happen if I don't."
Zero shoved his hand through the bars winced at the sharp lance of agony shooting up his arm so that he could reach Ren's cage. Rattle, rattle.
"We made a promise remember?"
Silence.
"Ren, hey, we're gonna get outta here. I swear. Just hold up a little longer. I'll get us out."
The new girl across from him begged for help, preyed, but Zero felt too ashamed to tell her no one would. She looked just a fragile, but life still colored her skin. Maybe she had a fighting.chance. Maybe not.
Kids around then moaned and wailed, mostly from pain or hunger. Last night, Zero only had slop, he hated the bitter taste but always licked his bowl clean. They weren't given spoons. They were kept in dog crates, just like dogs and never let out, not even to use the bathroom.
But at the sound of the metal rod striking against iron and reinforced steel bars, Zero tensed and sat up straight, his mind dizzy and stomach burning from nothingness.
"Time for another round my little mutts." Their Keeper, a squat man in old overalls and a face hidden behind a torn leather mask walked down their aisle. Rod with a million Volta of electricity in one hand, two dog collars in the other. He hesitated before their cages.
He turned to Ren's cage and popped it open, reached in a meaty hand, wrung the collar around Ren's scrawny throat and yanked him out. The boy stumbled on shaking limbs.
Then Overalls turned to the praying girl who shrieked when he wrapped her in a collar and despite her fear she came out on her own, still strong enough to move freely.
"Try your freaky powers on me and I'll cut you up." He gave his back to Zero assured he wouldn't do anything.
"This--isn't right, girls are never pitted against boys--stop!" He pounded bony fists and weak vectors against his confinement but wasn't able to break out. His vectors shrinking from the shocks, more sensitive, raw.
"You don't give me orders brat, it's what the crowd wants. They get."
He dragged Ren and the girl, Kira away.
Zero strained to listen as the fight took place above, he knew when it started when beings shouted instructions like, "Rip his vectors off!" and "Cut her face off!" He trembled with fury, fear, and pain waiting for the outcome.
And when it finally came he--
Zero's eyelids popped open.
Barely able to catch his breath as the nightmare receded, he realized he was drenched in cold sweat, his body on fire. He did a quick scan of his bedroom. He was alone. His thick black-out curtains were drawn, and the only light source was the crimson pulsing from his vectors.
His vectors. Shit! He jackknifed to his feet and studied them. The extra mutant limbs were raw from his determined suppression, jerky. Again.
Scowling, he wrenched his eyes over his bed. Despite durable sheets, both flame-retardant and tougher than cotton, he'd left singe marks behind. Some of the material was also torn in some places. The wall had been nearly smashed, plaster littered the bed, dusted his head.Gotta get a grip on this thing. His heart drummed erratically against his ribs, blood molten in his veins.
Zero hated dreaming about his past, the one after he'd been taken away from his parents. Especially hated the particular memory. At least you didn't dream about the next night.
With a deep intake of breath he pulled in the vectors with effort, then let it go. Shaking with still raw nerves he lumbered to the bathroom so he could shower off another restless night. With quick precision he dressed in a black shirt and jeans, paired with boots and a comfortable flannel shirt. A little better now he slipped out his room silent as night.