Roan Silverwing's Story

The other Captured were out and about. She spotted Timothy and Luna quietly conversing in the center of the room, Renita, and Mason Knight all out as well. Some must still be in their rooms... Susana thought, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes and sighing, rather loudly.

She had never had much contact with the others, because she was in her room all of the time, slowly going crazy, but Susana knew the names from the others from conversations heard through the thin walls. Timothy had been there almost as long as she had, and she could see the affect of no food was starting to show. She was thinner herself, had dropped a few pounds over the months, but overall she was still relitivily healthy.

That was the Collector's game. Treat them with love and respect, feed them, let them free for a while, then lock them back in the basement, torture them, beat them till their skin was raw and bloody. Automatically, Susana's fingers found the scar from the cut she had gotten the month before, the time of her last beating. The silence was strangely peaceful, the time between the bursts of hell, but it was scary, frightening, as she never knew what was coming next. Susana longed for a meal. She quietly, almost silently, walked to the center, smiling timidly at the others.

In her previous life she had not been shy, she had been quite social, but now that she felt all alone, except for the few friends she had made among the others, she generally kept to herself. Susana took a seat on the ground, tracing one long finger in the dirt that had gathered there. She knew that the other's would stare, but her mind was elsewhere, away from the madness...

( I didn't know whether or not to tag everyone or just some, so I just tagged you all. Sorry if that is annoying, I am kind of new to the whole tagging thing, everyone is, after all, it is a new addition to RPG. Again, I apologize. Correct me if I did anything wrong tag wise, if you want. )

"You're going to die here."

"Tortured, screaming, gasping."

"He's going to starve you and then all of you of them are going to start ripping you apart, limb by limb and they are going to eat you."

"You're so weak. Pathetic. Fall for everything."

"It's your fault we are here."

"No one likes you, Roan."

Roan curled up in the corner of his small room and rocked himself back and forth, taking deep, steadying breaths. Or at least tried to. It was hard staying calm when you were presented with all your fears without an escape. He had to deal with this on his own. He wasn't even allowed the medications he had to take. He was getting weaker, and weaker, and not just from the lack of food. It was dark, and cold, and the shadows tortured him. His mind was starting to exhaust itself with all the hallucinations. The darkness and the shadows had only added to the stress and let his mind play and roam. The Collector didn't even have to torture him even when did. His own mind did that for the collector, even when the man wasn't present in the dungeon. That probably filled that horrid man with glee.

His stomach growled in its hunger and he tightened his hold around his middle as the voices cackled in his mind. He didn't dare look up. He was afraid of what he'd see if he did look. Last time he trained his gaze on something, the shadows had morphed into the collector's shape and the man had attacked him, clawing him and yelling at him. He had screamed and begged mercy only to have the hallucination vanish. The pain hadn't gone away. He had clawed at his own arms in his loss of sanity. It made him wonder what the others thought of him. Did they hate him for screaming? For being a big baby? There were others who had been here much, much longer, and he'd never heard them scream.

"That's right. You're just a big baby. You're older then them and you're the one in the corner crying."

"No one likes you."

"You're alone with us. Forever."

"You're broken."

"Shut up," he grumbled and pressed his hand to his ears.

That didn't work of course. The voices weren't part of the external world. How was he going to make them go away? He didn't want to be alone. He wanted to try and be friends with the others. Another girl had been brought in after him but he couldn't make friends. He was afraid of them. After the first week of him trying to get used to everything and surviving his first beating, they had all turned into monsters in his head. Every time he looked at them, their faces distorted and they all started to laugh and point at him. He knew that in reality they didn't, but it was hard to wrap his mind around that image. The illusions always felt so real and they could go on and on as long as they wanted. He had no control. He never had control.

Roan sighed and leaned his head back against the cold wall. He felt disgusting. His clothes were ripped and his sleeves were stained with blood from his own doing and that of the collector. How could he have even trusted that man? He had walked right into his trap without a second thought. For once, he should have listened to the voices when they threatened and warned him about the man. He had seen the face of the demon but he'd ignored it like it was just his own fancy. Tears fell down his face again and he was quick to wipe them with his sleeves, his dirty blond hair falling into his face in a tangled mess.

He was so tired. He hadn't slept. Couldn't sleep. The voices and the dancing shadows kept him awake. He was so light headed and hurting. He heard the voices outside of his room and turned to look at his door. He bit his lip a little. Should he go out into the main hall and try and talk to them? He always felt awkward around them. It was hard to communicate with them when he was feeling this way. He hadn't left his room in days. He had been abashed after he had screamed about a torture he had inflicted on himself. The voices told him to stay. He couldn't listen to them. He had to get out of this room. If he wasn't alone, maybe his mind would stop playing tricks on him for a little while. He swallowed his fear and managed to pull himself up.

Roan wobbled to the door before he shakily pushed it open and glanced out. Some of them were sitting by the door. Was the collector coming? He swallowed the lump in his throat. Maybe it was safer to just stay in his room. He shook his head. No. He couldn't give in to fear all the time. He stepped out of his room and gave small glances to the others. They looked human currently. He rubbed his arm a little. Where should he go? Where should he sit? Who should he talk to? He saw Timmy and debated with himself before he moved towards him. He was the closest to him. If he was ignored, Maybe he'd go to Mason. If that failed, he might curl up in a corner again. He ran shaky fingers through his hair and sat down a little away from Timmy and offered a tiny smile.

"H-hi.... What's... going on?" he asked.

Susana heard another voice, the male voice of Roan S. She couldn't remember his full name, only the first, but she remembered him by the screams he uttered. She envied his screams, for some reason.

She had tried, but she never could utter a sound louder then a shout. She called down, weakly, " Food... Collector.... Out..." Then she went down the steps again, to scared by what would happen if the Collector opened the door on her whimpering face.
She slunk to the ground next to Timmy and Luna and smiled at Roan. He was the oldest, she thought, maybe 19 or 20. Roan had been capture 2nd to last, although who knows?

Maybe the Collector was out snatching another victim for himself.

Mason watched the others crowd towards the staircase, as if they were waiting for the collector or something. He wished he had been facing them, maybe pick up on what was going on, but he hadn’t the faintest idea why they’d want to go anywhere near that thing. Mason hated that staircase. He supposed it lead to freedom, but he’d never see it that way because he couldn’t imagine escaping on his own. The only chance they had to him was if the police found them in time. Which, considering how long some of them looked like they’d been here, was unlikely.

He realized there were more people out of their rooms too. Kitty was out, which made him frown a little, but she looked really terrible so he couldn’t be too hard on her. And Roan. Even though they never really talked, Mason never forgot his name, or any of their names. Reni might have been his first choice for conversation, but the way he saw it, remembering each other was more important than anything. Because not all of them might make it through this. In fact, most likely none of them would. But it still mattered.

He watched Roan’s face, timid and slightly confused, and he wondered how he could possibly be scared of anything else with the monster that was living upstairs. But, for some reason, almost of them were. They were scared of each other, and of making bonds and friendships, which honestly was something Mason desperately craved. He knew it was stupid, but he felt like it was the only thing that would get them through this with some sanity left. If he had been the first one, or alone, he probably wouldn’t be nearly as stable as he was. And all things considered, he was surprisingly stable. Reni being there had made things better, but still. Sometimes, he wondered if there wasn’t something wrong with him because he was so normal still. He wondered if three months of hell wasn’t enough to break him, or if he was forgetting how he used to be.

Mason continued to stare at the group without meaning to. He wanted to go sit with them, he really did. But he wasn’t sure if Reni would go over with him, and without a translator he worried his presence would just frustrate them. He could carry a conversation, of course, but he really had to focus, and it was hard with the basement so dim as it was. He’d barely spoken to anyone the first two months he was there. Most of them hadn’t even known he was deaf until he started signing with Reni when she arrived a month ago, and even now he didn’t think all of them knew because they spent so much time in their rooms. It was pathetic, but it wasn’t much different from how he felt when he transferred out of the School of the Deaf. He still cared what people thought of him, even when his life was balancing on the whim of a mad-man’s fancy.

Timmy's face twitched a smile at the mention of his name. It was somewhat reassuring that he wasn't the only one having trouble remembering the other's names. Or course, there were different reasons involved, but the blonde ignored that fact. He also ignored Kitty's next word, biting as they were. Easier than anything else, they had no meaning but to hurt anyway. He turned his attentions to Red-head, watching her on the stairs. He didn't particularly want to ascend them. The Master had put them here, so of course he probably wanted them to stay here, he persuaded himself. Punishment would come if they didn't act as he wanted them to. The boy's throat bobbed, and he turned his attention back to the little doll of a girl he was supporting.

A voice sounded behind him and even before he turned his head to look, his mind brought up S for screams. R-R-R but not R-r-renita. Timmy looked down at the young man, he was certainly older than any of the others, but here it didn't really matter. They were all helpless, fearful, hungry children here. He smiled at the tentative boy, and said,"Plan B, I think. For food." Careful to steady Kitty before he bent down, offered the boy a hand up. "You can come too if you want. I don't know how well it will work though. Don't want to get in trouble with the Master." The last line faded to a mumble to himself, a reminder.

Regardless to whether R-R-R S for screams took his hand or not, Timmy turned his attentions to he next best thing. Which was R-r-renita, who seemed more than a touch of sarcasm. He could almost taste the better than thou aimed at Luna. When Luna spoke his eyes fixed on her with rapt attention. She didn't say anything that he was much interested in though. She'd told him previously that the Master hadn't forgotten about them, so his hunger could be ignored until then. He was now confident that he wouldn't die of starvation. Dehydration, of course, was another matter entirely. But that threat always hung over him.

The boy looked at his two companions, first at Kitty and then at R-R-R, asking them silently what they wanted to do. he was, after all, Kitty's mode of transportation.

Kitty felt the warmth of Timothy's arm and sighed. It seemed that she was just a huge... Burden. She looked at the man that had approached them and felt a wave of pity. She heard his screams at night... They had covered up her crying. So she should thank him? She rolled her eyes at herself.

She glared at Number 8 and Number 4. "Well, it isn't as if there was anything else to do!"

She heard the part about the bread but no.. She couldn't. Kitty didn't want to take anything. It wasn't hers after all. Even she had some morals. She looked up at the sound of Timmy's voice and listened intently. He seemed like a very pure person. Not tainted or bitter... Well no one was as bitter as she was so she guessed that everyone was pure compared to her.

"Bring me over to Mason," she pointed at the deaf boy or partly deaf boy, whichever, Kitty had never ever said a word to him. But now that they were all actually out of their rooms at the same time, she thought it would be a good chance to learn something about him.

She had perfected sign language.

And Chinese, German, Spanish, and French plus Korean and Japanese.

She had hated it but it had paid off. Kirrty looked down. She must really be sick if she was actually missing her parents..

We told you they were going to eat you! a male voice ran in Roan's head at the cannibalistic comment.

Run, run, run! Go to our room!

Your door doesn't lock. They are hungry. You're the next meal.

Your dead.

Run away!

Ran squeezed his eyes shut and tried to pull his mind away from what the voices were saying. They were all screaming, trying to drawn out all the words that the others were saying around him. He had to pay attention. He had to focus. He couldn't just sit in his room and twiddle his thumbs, stare at the wall and let the shadows eat at his mind. That's right. The hallucinations and the voices; they were the cannibalistic ones. They were the ones eating at him. Wait, they couldn't be cannibalistic. They weren't real. They weren't human to do that. Did that mean he was eating at himself since the voices and such were his creations? That was a rather scary and unwelcoming thought. Oh great. Now he missed the conversation!

He looked back at Timmy and then the group of people by the door. He blinked.

"But if we try to get out, He is going to be angry with us. He might not feed us if we disobey and try to get out now. He'll make it worse... beat us.." he answered Timmy and clung to his hand without really realizing it. Waiting felt awful, but retaliation was only going to be met with that cruel smile on handsome lips that showered more pain than kisses. He reached up to touch his own lips; hating himself once more for trusting the man with his heart. He shook his head and looked back at the people around him. His stomach growled again and he let go of Timmy to hug his middle. He'd never gone this long without food before. He was so hungry.

"I think we should all get away from the stairs. If He come back and sees us all crowded here, he'll get suspicious. What if he locks us up somehow in our rooms and makes us stay in the darkness... all alone for a long time?" He shuddered at the idea. He didn't like the darkness. It meant the shadows could move more. He hated being alone. He didn't want to be alone. He clung to Timmy's hand again. He almost wanted to mutter a 'please don't leave me' but he knew nothing of Timmy. Timmy might hate him for clinging to him so much.

Then he caught what Luna said. He tilted his head to the side. She had saved bread? That was smart of her. Why was she offering it now when she could save it for herself? Eat all the bread and not be hungry while the rest of them starved? He had expected people in their situation to start turning against each other. Then again, those were stupid horror films. That couldn't be true in real life right?

Moron!

Crazy boy!

Don't eat the bread!

It's poison.

You're weak.

"Shut up...." he muttered under his breath in an attempt to distract himself. The shadows started to morph into beasts but he didn't dare look at them. Instead, he fixed his eyes on Luna. Her form started to change into a bird. He shook his head vigorously.

"Luna..." he called out softly, "why are you willing to share your bread with us? I mean... it is your bread. It's so nice of you to offer but wouldn't you want to keep it for yourself?" he asked.

He looked back at Timmy for a moment before he tugged the boy a little to get him to follow him before he sat down beside Luna and poked the squirming couch. Was it really squirming? He poked it again suddenly rather fascinated by the couch. "You said there was stuff int he couch?" he asked Luna. "Was is it? I don't know if what I am seeing is real...." he said softly. "I saw a cockroach... and then I saw cheese but I don't think there is cheese in the couch.... or a crawling apple."

Luna sighed in relief as the fallen girl sat up with a murmer of reassurance, her eyes fixed on the bread. She helped Gray to her feet and made her way over to the couch, sitting with her back to it, legs crossed. Her nimble fingers worked at the bread, breaking it into eight even chunks. She offered the first piece up to Susana, then looked over curiously at Roan as he called out to her.
"And if I sat here gorging myself on it, alone? What would you say then?" She smiled wryly, and gestured to the space next to her. "Besides, is it not enough to assume that I don't want anyone here to starve to death? I would share my bread if I were not starving; it would be rude if I did not."
Luna watched his progress with the couch with something like amusement.
"I don't doubt that the sofa is squirming, Roan. I was entirely serious when I suggested we eat it. However, I would recommend this bread as your first choice, as I think it highly unlikely you will find cheese or apples in there." She held a piece of bread out to Roan, smiling warmly. "Would anyone else care for some bread? I'm afraid it's slightly moldy, but under the circumstances...Timothy? Sharlotte?" Luna raised an eyebrow at the pair, motioning to the remaining bread chunks.

Timmy was drawn in two directions for a moment, one by the boy who started with an S, the blonde and the other by Kitty. Blonde had been clinging to his arm, and Timmy could almost feel his fear, which made him nervous. His knee began to quiver uncomfortably, but he quelled the motion to the best of his ability. But at the same time, having two people relying on him made him feel relaxed. It gave him a need to feel relaxed, not for himself, but for them. Poor Blonde, with his fear, and poor Kitty with her anger. It was so much easier to let everything go, wasn't it? Even if it hadn't been a conscious choice for Timmy in such a long long time.

In the end he decided to aide Kitty's trek over to Mason. She needed him more. And he didn't want to eat. If the Master deemed that he should be hungry then hungry he would be. The girl was a doll, light, petite, and pretty. Well, as pretty as a starving girl could be. Timmy didn't hold much attraction to her, however, because he honestly didn't much care for romance. His mother's failed attempts to find a man had turned him off to amorous relationships. Not to say that he didn't love affection. He merely didn't pursue it. Often. In most cases.

Kitty felt very warm, the sandy-blonde noticed as he began carefully assisting her towards the boy she'd pointed it. And her face wasn't flushed, which was odd. "Are you feeling sick?" He asked, a bit concerned. He wasn't one for worrying, but concern was something that sprung up often. "You feel very warm." He reached up and did something out of habit that he used to do to his little brother: hold his wrist up to her forehead. Yes, she did feel unnaturally warm. His face screwed up more.

By this point they had nearly reached Mason, and Timmy heard someone say his name. It was Luna. Almost like a puppy he swung his head in her direction. She was offering food. He turned back to the task at hand. He didn't want food, and thinking about food would make him more hungry. But wait. "Would you like some bread?" He asked Kitty. "I can get it for you if you want." His voice was more lazy than eager, more concerned than pleading. He offered a habitual smile, a quirk of one side of his mouth. It was a leftover from he didn't know what, and probably never would.