Trapped

It was a distant memory. On a narrow road, vendors were set up, taking over the sidewalk and only left a small path in the center for travel. Voices of bargaining, yelling, sounds of footsteps, knives hitting the chopping boards, engines making their way through the road. At the center of the market, Kyren was crying. He was small, skinny and dirty, lost amongst the grown-ups around. His eyes were red and his throat hurt.

People passed by, some ignored, some threw disdainful glances. He could not remember if he was lost or abandoned.

Now, he was back to the place in that earliest memory, but this time, he wasn't crying. His eyes looked past the adult figures, across the market, landing on a child, just as small as he was. But different from him, that child was accompanied by a guardian. She wore a beautiful dress, her hair was taken care of, sitting inside a fancy car parked outside the market.

That girl had everything he did not, yet they were similar. Similar eyes, similar smell. The loss of hope. The presence of a throbbing reminder of the unnoticed wounds. His feet carried him towards the girl. As he stood by the window, their eyes met.

"What's your name?" he asked.

The girl did not answer, nor did she look at him. Perhaps she was ignoring him, or she merely could not see him.

Without receiving an answer, somehow Kyren already knew her name, as natural as his own.

Riley Westrose.

Even when the car started to move, her eyes never met him, gazing at something far away, uncertain.

As Kyren followed the vehicle with his eyes, the scenery changed.

It was then that he realized this wasn't his memory. It was Riley's.

He was in a classroom. There was a blackboard, a podium, but only one desk, on which Riley was copying from a book into a small note. The handwriting was small so as to squeeze as many words into the small piece of paper as possible. Then, she slided the note into her sleeve, making sure that it was not visible from outside.

The scene changed again. Riley was inside a dark room. There was no furniture, no window, no light. Sobbings and hiccups were heard from a corner of the empty room. Her arm wrapped around her knees, hands stretched out. Her palms were red and swollen.

"I'm sorry. I won't do it again."

The same words were repeated over and over again.

Kyren blink.

Now Riley had become taller, prettier, but the smell of despair was still the same. Kyren accompanied her from dust to dawn, from the fitness exercises before the sun came out to the magic theory lessons late after the moon had risen. Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, months turned to years. Riley was never seen with anyone else but the teachers. Her wounds and bruises were always hidden under thick clothes, her worn out spirit covered by the laughter and make-up.

Kyren watched on as her life was being directed by strings attached to her limbs. Her knowledge, skills, social circle, how she spoke, conducted, smiled, ate, and every aspect of her life were monitored and commanded. At every moment that she had lived, there were always eyes watching.

After she joined the SPD, those gazes did not disappear, but there was a new emotion mixed in them.

Disappointment.

Riley began to try harder. Kyren watched as she cut down on sleep, meal time, squeezing tasks and exercises into every spare second she could find. But the more she tried, the more apparent the disappointment became.

From a puppet, she became a failure.

Failure became trash.

And trash must be taken out.

Riley stared in silence at the scroll given to her by the one she used to call "Father", now "Chief."

"Don't fail this time," the man said.

She smiled.

"Of course, Chief."

…

Kyren opened his eyes to a scene of ruination. The explosion had collapsed the entire ground, merging two floors into one. As the map he possessed did not include the floor underneath, it was likely that his old neighbor had not discovered this place yet.

Nora was lying on him, unconscious. He checked the girl, making sure that she did not suffer any serious injuries. Kyren carried her off the pile of debris and laid her on the flat ground, using his sweater as her pillow.

Kyren then inspected the surroundings. Most of the chandeliers were destroyed, leaving a few emitting weak light that failed to illuminate the entire area. Unlike the maze above, what lied below was an open space, larger than what the eye could see.

As he was contemplating on the next course of action, there were visible movements from the debris. A decomposing hand shot up, followed by dozens after dozens others. a humanoid creature crawled out, revealing its half-burnt figure. As more and more such creatures brandished their gluttony at him, Kyren stood still, staring at the unfortunate monsters that survived the explosion.

The dozens zombies, with sickening growls and rotten odor, dragged their broken bodies towards him, their only prey left.

Kyren whispered, "Dracuella."

A voice echoed in his head, accompanied by a light chuckle.

"My power is already yours, descendant."

He raised his hand, his skin turned black, his fingers elongated and fused together into a sharp edge. With a simple movement from his arm, the dark blade made a horizontal cut. The blade became meters long, slicing all incoming monsters in half, their lower and upper bodies separated in an instance. Any pieces of rock caught in the blade's path were not spared from the same fate.

The darkness receded back and transformed into the usual arm. Kyren realized that the wounds had disappeared.

"How does it feel?" the same voice appeared in his head.

Kyren clenched and unclenched his fist.

"Strange."

"You'll get used to it soon."

It was then that Kyren picked up steady tremors from the floor. Footsteps, too heavy for anything else. Voices were becoming clear, a mix of screaming, crying and laughing.

Kyren turned his gaze towards the source of that sound. A hulking figure was approaching, tentacles raising their heads.

A blade flew towards the figure like an arrow let loose. Kyren felt resistance on his arm as the blade was grabbed by the tentacles and stopped on its track. Magic filled his bloodstreams, enhancing his strength beyond human's capability, yet no matter how much Kyren tried to pull his blade back, it refused to bulge.

Five pairs of eyes on the ghoul's head turned to him at the same time, five mouths opened, letting out a hellish shriek. His ears bursted, warm blood streamed down. Kyren gritted his teeth to keep his eyes on the enemy. Magic soon fixed his ear, which was then destroyed again.

The continuous pain interfered with attention and he was one second too slow to realize that the ghoul had released its grip on his blade. Its leg left a crater on the floor as the monster dashed towards him. The sharp nails pierced his throat. Yet, there was no blood. The boy's body turned into black smoke and dissipated.

Behind the ghoul, Kyren materialized with two arms turning into blades, stabbing into its back, yet failed to penetrate its hide. He clicked his tongue, jumping backwards just in time to dodge a swipe from the thin, long arm.

"You are newly awakened, your magic is not strong enough to go against it," Dracuella said.

"Not helping," Kyren complained.

"Use the orb."

Only after hearing the demoness did he remember the object given by his old neighbor. Holding the dark orb in his hand, Kyren immediately knew what to do, even though he was clueless before.

Magic flowed from his body into the orb, which sucked the energy like a dry sponge. Kyren inherited his power from Dracuella, who possessed nearly infinite magic, but the rate at which magic was being drained made him concerned. Every time a dark blade was formed, it used up a drop of magic, but the flow of magic sucked by the orb was like water from a broken dam, enough to flood a small town.

The moment his mind was distracted by the strange object, five sharp nails appeared right by his side. Kyren moved right before the nails pierced his ribs. The other hand swiped at his feet, the boy jumped back, but the ghoul gave chase, refusing to let its prey get away.

The nails created marks on the ground, cutting rocks like tofu. Kyren was unable to put his head in the battle, left with no choice but forced into a defensive stance. He focused on dodging while luring the ghoul away from the sleeping Nora.

Suddenly, the flow of magic stopped, cracks appeared on the orb. The ghoul striked down with its arm, aiming at his crown, attempting to cut the boy into vertical strips. Kyren raised his hand holding the orb to block the strike.

A metallic noise rang as the nails were blocked. Kyren poured magic in his leg and kicked the ghoul away.

The wind whistled as Kyren wielded what had become of the orb. A long, metal staff attached to a curved blade. The scythe in his hand gleamed with dread.