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  "Ugh. Disgusting," he said, waving his arms in the hope that the ooze on his fingers would come off. However, part of it was hidden inside his nails, making it almost impossible to remove unless he used a file or a toothpick. Neil's belly rumbled louder and louder, and it could be heard from feet away, like a belch vibrating through the nozzle walls.

  "Sorry," he said, taking little steps, panting more and more.

  "I hate closed sites. This never seems to end," said James, softly, venting.

  "Silence! When we get there, you'll be in a hurry to get out." One of the soldiers said and laughed like a maniac.

  The darkness prevented them from seeing which of the soldiers amused themselves at their expense. Again, laughter spread along the long corridor, doubling it and increasing the volume.

  "Ahhh..." James exclaimed, catching them by surprise.

  "Are you okay?" Alec asked after a moment.

  "What the hell. I just stuck my foot in a puddle. I'm wet to the ankle. As if this wasn’t bad enough," he said, frustrated and his voice crawling from the lack of moisture in his throat.

  He tried to shake his foot but the ankle scraped the chains. The pain was excruciating, feeding on the strength they still had, even though they tried to avoid complaining. Their HP diminished whenever one of the limbs of the body was hit, even if it was only a superficial touch. The skin was in such a fragile state that a slight slip of the finger was enough to cause a chain reaction in which the skin twisted because of the pain that was pounding on the body.

  Max's HP was 40 because he had drunk two sips from the bottle while the rest of them were around 20. Their hearts beat louder than the sound of drops of water falling into the puddles and sweat mingled with their dust-covered faces. Their faces itched as if they had a bug crawling through their pores, and they couldn’t scratch it.

  The soldier stopped in front of a door with a sign that marked ‘room 1’. He took the key from his pocket and opened it. He peered out to be sure there was no one there, before grabbing the chains again, pulling them, bursting into laughter at the pain he caused, making the prisoners bite their lips until they were sore. Labored breaths removed the little oxygen that existed in the tunnel, making it increasingly difficult to breathe without ending up out of breath. The light in the room lit up as soon as the bottom of his boot touched the floor. He entered, and the group found themselves obliged to follow him. Only Max was left behind, with Kantos telling him to move on. He had the habit of spending hours in the palace where he lived, at the window, reading with a view of the family grounds. Solitude, once his friend, betrayed him now, spitting him in the face and abandoning him to a frightful fate.

  Chapter XII

  The boys entered the room, blinking desperately as soon as the strong light struck them, a trace of saliva coming to them when they noticed the existence of five bottles of water and a sandwich for each. Contrary to expectations, the room had a modern look. The walls were white, had recently been painted, and had a glass window in the middle of one of them, for someone to watch. There were also five white, tilting chairs. There was a certain comfort allied with the colors of the room and the way it was arranged.

  "Sit down. I'll take the chains off your hands. I don’t need to tell you what happens if you try to run away, right?" He asked, not getting answers, "I asked you a question!" He repeated, raising his voice, giving off anger and contempt.

  The boys nodded and went to the metal chairs, one at each end, facing the center of the room. Their eyes were bloodshot and their skin dirty as if they had not been cleaned for months, though only two days had passed since they had fled the academy. Suffering lengthened the day. They sighed with relief as they regained the freedom of their hands, controlling themselves not to attack the soldier as soon as they heard the noise of the handcuffs hitting the stone floor. They rubbed their palms together and even high-five in the air to each other, putting aside the friction between them.

  They smiled as if they had saved the world and ate as if they had a hole in their stomach. They ate the food without shame, small pieces of bread getting between their teeth, and falling on the floor and their clothes. In the middle of their meal, they emptied the water bottles, with several sips at a time, sucking the food down. The drink descended into their guises, refreshing their bodies. James even snatched up the water in his mouth, which Alec laughed at, even if he had quickly tried to disguise it. Lucian used the little bit left in his bottle to pour over face, the thin river of water cleansed the brown rot, like a snow-cleanser. The others, seeing him run his hands over his face, removing all the dirt, did the same. Even in the case of Neil, who had only a few drops available.

  "Well, I assume you’re done." The guard spoke, ripping the solemn moment out of their hands and pulling them back to the stark reality, "The doctor will be right here. If I were you, I’d laugh now. If you're lucky, you’ll just run out of teeth." He said, laughing with his mouth open, the black of some cavities on the bottom teeth making an appearance for the first time.

  He left the room, still laughing which echoed through the tunnel, making itself be felt inside the four walls, even with the door closed. The group was left alone, unsupervised and with loose hands. Alec frowned, finding the situation very strange, wondering if it was a trap if they had planned everything so they would expose their escape plan. Neil took the opportunity to nibble on the crumbs that had fallen on his t-shirt, without realizing that James was watching him with his face locked, pausing only to scratch his eyebrow. Lucian had folded and fingered the chains around his feet. He cracked them, rubbed them in the metal, pointed at them and nothing. He had zero energy, but he persisted, eventually catching the attention of the rest.

  "Are you going to stop?" James finally said.

  "I'm trying. There has to be a little bit of it," Lucian said and continued. He repeated his movements, one after the other, until finally, he got tired, "This has to work. I cannot remain arrested here," he said softly, to himself.

  "Good, you're crazy again. At least your eyes didn't roll back," James commented sarcastically on the tip of his tongue.

  "What are you talking about?" Lucian asked, raising his head slightly.

  "Don’t you remember? You were walking, looking at the moon with your eyes rolled up. It looked like you were not even here." James replied, looking at Alec questioningly, "Is he all right?"

  "Um ... I don’t remember how we got here.” Lucian confessed, staring at the ceiling and opening a breach of curiosity in the ruined body of each.

  "Can you stop talking about things that don’t matter? What about Lucy? Is he going to torture her too?" Neil, who had been silent since they had arrived on town, asked, locusts jumping out of his mouth.

  "Lucy this, Lucy that... She’s probably better off than us." James countered, whipping him in disarray.

  Neil threw him a murderous look, if he could, he'd strangled him for a few seconds. James remained silent and no one said anything until Alec broke the momentary calm.

  "Whatever happens... one of us has to get to Relics. Even... without the letter," he said, looking down at the strands of black hair, usually standing, lying down.

  "Wait ... are you trying to say we're not all going to survive? I didn’t even have time to tell my father that, despite everything, I appreciated him for trying. Shit. He deserved to know that." Neil said, punching the air, followed by a burp.

  "We all knew the risks of the mission..." Alec said.

  "Not that we had any choice." James shot off, interrupting, "I still believe the gods will protect us."

  "I've been further from death and closer. At least this was for some worthwhile cause." Lucian shot the air, catching everyone by surprise.

  James stared at him with a half-open mouth, long sighs, frowning. Alec kept his head down while Neil murmured something inaudible, looking at Lucian too as if he had seen a familiar ghost rise before him.

  "We're going to ..." Neil was going to finish the sentence when they
were interrupted by a shriek coming from another room.

  The cry ravaged their souls. It was Max's voice and carried with it a pain they couldn’t imagine. Then another, even stronger, but this time his voice trembled as he shouted: "Please don’t." There was so much fear in his voice, mingling with tears and a dry hoarse throat. The sound echoed through the walls and infiltrated each of their minds, repeating itself in an infinite loop.

  "Shit. They must have figured out who we are." Alec said, noticing that Neil was covering his ears with his hands.

  "Or they read the letter," Lucian added.

  "You have to use your spirit animal," James concluded, folding himself to try and remove the chains from his feet, taking the opportunity to hide his watery eyes.

  Alec agreed. Lucian thought for a few seconds, his eyes on the top right corner of the room, before closing them. The cold rose slowly. A chill that sent the rest rubbing their hands over their arms and their teeth to chatter relentlessly. The noise, almost a continuous tic-tac, was the only sound that was spreading in the room. Lucian's eyes gained a transcendent light, and his body was covered by a gleaming blue and white layer.

  "Interesting. Something different." A voice at the door of the room said. “I feel like we're going to have lots of fun."

  Everyone's eyes were on him. The light that enveloped Lucian dissipated as soon as the concentration was stopped. The newcomer must have been around 30 years old and had bottle-bottom glasses, with a pointed nose that held them in place. In his right hand he carried a pen and a small black notebook, and in the left was a suitcase lined with wine-colored silk. He whistled a soft melody, which, at any other time, would be reassuring. However, in that inhospitable moment, his calm, unusual demeanor, frightened the group, who slowly came, to the conclusion that he was the doctor. The way they talked about him had created an image in their heads that didn’t match the person in front of them. They were expecting a tall, potbellied, butcher-like man, or a skinny lord whose eyes reflected soullessness, but not a healthy young man, brown-eyed, pausing to smile, and aware of what he was about to do. They also noticed the soldier from before, and pink threads behind his slender body.

  Doctor (?)

  Class: Healer

  Specialization: Pain

  HP: 300/300

  Attack: 120

  Defense: 150

  Agility: 100

  Wisdom: 170

  "LUCY?!" Neil asked as if he had just woken up and something incredible unfolded before him.

  "So that's her name ... Pretty girl, isn’t she?" The soldier replied, taunting him.

  Neil spat on the floor, followed by a scream, "When I get out of here ..."

  "If you still have legs..." He countered the man, taking Lucy by the arm and tossing her carelessly into the chair in the middle of the room.

  She was awake. Her eyes were half open, and a trickle of saliva ran down her chin. Neil called her, but there was no answer. She was there, but her mind was reclusive after the pills she'd been given. Her face was at a 45-degree angle to the right and her back wasn’t touching the bottom of the chair. The memory of Max's agonizing scream was still fresh in Neil's memory, and the silence of their returned companion made them terrified.

  The doctor placed the briefcase in a corner of the room, removing only a syringe with a dark green liquid. He confirmed that it was operational, letting the drops fall on the floor and treading on them without a second thought, fully knowing someone would clean them. He looked around, with a huge smile, choosing his victim. He delighted in the possibility of having several options, but he approached none, waiting a few minutes to do so, amused to see them faint with fear little by little. It was on the edge of Neil that he gritted his teeth like a dog salivating with anger, and then near James who tried to punch him. He turned away, smiled, and turned to Lucian, who kept a serious face, without showing any emotion.

  "I'll start with that one. It always gives me pleasure when they go from tough guys to tears." The doctor said, pointing at Neil, “He seems to like the girl. Poor soul won’t even be able to watch what I’m going to do to her”

  As soon as he finished speaking, the soldier slipped behind Neil's back and held him by the arms until the doctor stuck the syringe into his arm and made sure the young man received the whole dose. Neil still struggled, trying to free himself from the soldier's arms that held him as if a snake had involved him, but it was in vain. It was not long before his vision became totally blurred, unable to see more than shapes and shadows. He wanted to talk, but when he opened his mouth the sound seemed to be lost in a vacuum and he stopped feeling his body weight. It was light as a feather, but the chain around his ankles kept him from moving. A slight jerk on his shoulder was enough for him to lie horizontally on the reclined chair.

  "Enjoy it. Your friend won’t be able to move, but he will feel everything. A few more seconds and you'll even be able to scream in pain. Do you know what's the funniest part? The body is so sensitive that not only will it experience more pain, but also the more you try to resist the more you will feel. Great, isn’t it? I created this serum myself." The doctor said to them, smiling with pride, showing the two white teeth that stood out from the rest. Allied to his chubby cheeks made him look like a rabbit every time he smiled, which was almost always.

  "Leave him alone," James shouted, stepping forward, blood dripping from the whiteness of his foot, leaking through his toes.

  "Don’t be in a hurry. You'll have your turn, too." The doctor said as he walked to his suitcase, stowing the syringe and pulling out a hammer. It had a brown handle, and the metal was painted black.

  The way he carried it with both hands meant it was heavier than it seemed. He stood beside Neil and ordered the soldier to pick a hand and a finger. After a few seconds of holding his hand to his chin, the right and the indicator were selected. The hand was placed a few inches to the side of the body, still on the chair. Neil couldn’t even touch his fingers, as the lifeless eyes, with dilated pupils, looked at the situation from above. The others watched, feeling incapable, as the doctor holding the hammer forcefully with both hands, swung it back and forth until the moment that he lifted it and mercilessly dropped it onto his defenseless finger. There was no time to close his eyes. They watched as the finger was brutally ripped from Neil's hand, the blood gushing down to the floor and onto the doctor's white coat. They couldn't get the sound the hammer made as it tore muscle and bone apart out of their minds. Neil's eyes widened, about to leap out of his body, just as his mouth stretched open to scream, but no sound came out. His facial expression was enough to convey his pain, to understand that even he was not prepared for something like that. Blood was leaving his body like a forgotten shut-off faucet. The living flesh, red and yellowish in tone, was rooted in the memory of all who couldn’t look away. They looked at his finger, lying on the floor, his skin flayed, and the bone destroyed and split in two. His HP dropped to a third and no one said anything, but it was possible to hear as they, one by one, swallowed dry.

  "I've just started. Only I can have so much control over the human body, know where to hit exactly to cause maximum pain so that the person stays awake until the brain itself momentarily disconnects." The doctor said, taking his finger, and touching it to see its consistency, "I have an idea."

  He returned to his suitcase. He put back the hammer, the fresh blood mingling with the black gaining a wine color, then he searched inside the suitcase until he found what he wanted. A gray object, with the peculiarity of being made to pull nails, as he explained in an enthusiastic way, raising his arms, and whirling around the room. Before putting it to use, he slid one of Neil’s fingers through a pool of blood that was in the chair, which now had a thicker consistency. He took it to his mouth, delighting in the taste, acting as if he had just experienced tropical food, licking his finger and sucking it until there was not a drop left. Even the soldier felt uncomfortable, eventually looking away.

  "Strange, you know? Since I was little,
I’ve had a fascination with blood and, as the more samples I prove, the more I realize that each one has its own flavor. Some sweeter and some a little bald," the doctor said, adjusting his glasses, holding them to his nose, letting his bushy eyebrows fill his face.

  "This guy is crazy," James said, unable to control himself any more.

  "Many called me that. Fortunately, our great leader saw potential in me and I compensate him by getting the information he needs." He replied, explaining himself.

  He took a hold of Neil's hand from underneath and chose the thumbnail. He closed the rest of his hand, holding only that finger up and using the other hand to fit the tool into the nail. Small irons pierced the nail from one end to the other. The sound of them poking through, coming down without difficulty, ripping and splitting the skin, raised even their unborn hairs. However, the worst of it all was seeing Neil motionless, his head moving slightly from side to side and his eyes turning. The effect of the chemicals that circulated in his body was gradually nullified. The pain supplanted its effect, functioning as an antivirus.

  "Ah, cute, he’s resisting," the doctor said, pulling his fingernail, leaving an empty hole behind, and a crust where previously furred threads were.

  This time, Alec had time to close his eyes and James to divert his head. Only Lucian held his gaze, seeing Neil's body shaking, resembling someone with convulsions. The heavy silence was one of the signs of how the moment had taken away the group's courage. They didn’t fight, nor did they grumble or complain. Desperation had taken hold of them, gradually, locking their minds, making them an empty shell. The doctor smiled, and licked his lips, proving the little blood that had survived his tasting. He returned to the corner where he had the briefcase and put the tool away. He removed the same syringe from before, and called the soldier, asking him to hold on to an instrument which he said was one of his favorites.