"It's time. Wake him up." These were the words that caught the ears of a half-conscious teenager whose hands and legs were bound with chains.
He opened his eyes slowly and caught sight of two men wearing leather clothes and shoes and wielding swords. They were in a dimly lit place, so he couldn't see their faces well enough to make out what they looked like.
"Look at him. He's so scrawny and puny," one of the men said, turning to the other before they both let out a laugh.
"Stop your whining!" a deeper voice could be heard from a distance. It was a man with a rugged face, black hair, and sparsely scattered visible gray hairs. The boy could see him because he was holding a lamp as he walked closer.
"Kaius, we jus—"
"This boy is the son of a nobleman. He'll be valuable for us as a showpiece, but that doesn't mean he'll be treated any differently than the rest. Take him out and let him soak in the water. He reeks."
"Come on, get up!" The men immediately pulled the boy up on his feet, but he fell to the ground right away. His legs were too weak to stand.
"Call one of the other rats to come and help him up," the deep-voiced man from earlier commanded.
One of the men went out from the group.
The rugged-faced man with the lamp walked closer to the boy and held him by his chin. "You're going to be a good boy, yeah?" he said, giving the boy subtle taps on his cheek.
Just then, the man who had left before came back with another slave, who had a peculiar height above average, silky hair, and dark blue eyes.
"You're going to take this boy. He needs a bath and can't walk, so get on with it."
The slave hurried to carry the boy on his back and walked away from the men. He walked toward what seemed to be a beam of light that was getting bigger as he moved forward.
Then everywhere was lit up. It was the sun. The boy on the slave's back observed that his surroundings were filled with people about his age, performing all sorts of labor.
"Let's get you to the river. By the way, what's your name?" the slave asked.
"..." There was no reply from the boy he carried on his back.
"It's alright. You are pretty tired, so that will be later. I know you can hear me, so I'll tell you mine. It's Gabriel," the slave remarked.
Just then, the slave spotted someone familiar, another slave with short white hair and sky blue eyes.
"Yo! Over here! I see you're looking as gloomy as ever," he called out.
"Who is this you're carrying on your back?" the other slave asked, shifting his gaze.
"Oh! It's just one of the new people that these guys kidnapped as usual. He needs a bath but cannot move," he answered.
"Those damn bastards... I'll follow you to the river then. I'm done with everything I have for now."
The white-haired slave stood and started walking with Gabriel. In no time, they arrived at the river. It had almost changed color and was only good enough to take a bath.
Gabriel then set the boy, who was still in chains, at the shallow side of the river.
"Let's leave him to soak here," Gabriel said, turning to the white-haired boy.
The duo moved to sit near a tree some distance from the river, where they could still see the boy they left in the water.
"What do you think about this place?" the white-haired boy asked, extending his hands towards the space in front of him.
"You've asked me this countless times, man. Anyways, there is nothing to think about. We just have to follow the rules to stay alive. That's all there is to this place," Gabriel answered.
"Hmm," the white-haired boy murmured.
"I know it's been hard on you, with your parents' deaths and your uncle's betrayal..."
"That piece of garbage is not my uncle. He made it pretty clear that night," the white-haired boy quickly retorted, his face reddening.
"I understand how you feel, Kyle. I felt the same way when the people in my village were slaughtered. I still have nightmares to this day."
"Then why does it seem like you've given up on ever leaving this hellhole?" the white-haired boy asked.
"Well…"
"Splash!" The boy they had left in the pool sprung up from a static position and started swimming away from the duo.
"No! Stop! You don't know what you're doing!" Gabriel shouted.
As the boy reached the other side of the river, he leaped out of the water and started running. He had feigned leg weakness all this time, waiting for the perfect opportunity.
"I'll be out of here soon enough, and I'll soon see my dad," he snickered.
Immediately, he heard a howl, and in another instant, he could feel that his arm was gone.
"Ahhhhhhhhh!" he bellowed, blood gushing from his severed arm.
Just then, three creatures appeared in front of him. They were pitch black but had the figure and demeanor of wolves.
By this time, the boy had already realized he made a huge mistake and started running back toward Kyle and Gabriel.
"I'll come back! Please help me! I'll do anything!"
"Kyle! What do we do?!" Gabriel turned to him.
"Nothing. There's nothing we can do. So this is why you've given up on going out of here," he answered with a poker face.
They could not do anything, or else they would face the same fate as that boy.
They watched as the creatures ripped the boy limb from limb. It was gruesome, but they couldn't do anything but watch. It was imprinted on their minds—this was the obstacle they would have to overcome if they ever wanted to leave the life of slavery.
******
"Whip!" Consecutive strokes were being lashed out at Gabriel and Kyle, whose hands were both tied to a log of wood.
"I told you to take him to clean him up, and you let the valuable possession die? To think he even has more worth to me than you dogs."
It was Kaius, who didn't seem pleased with what transpired and was visibly angry.
"What did you expect us to do?" Kyle spoke curtly.
"You dare talk back to me, white-haired dog?" Kaius spoke as he hit Kyle's face with his boot.
He then looked at the audience of slaves that had gathered and showed them the remains of the boy that had died. They all let out a sound of disgust.
"Let this be a lesson to anyone who tries to escape again. I know some of you blockheads don't listen. Being smart will only make you lose your lives," he hollered at them.
"Take these two to the cold room. Let them spend time thinking about the evil they have done to me today."
Their hands were loosened, and they were taken into the cold room. It was a place used to preserve kills from hunting trips that the men underwent, but oftentimes, it would be used to punish offenders.