Chapter 9: First Manifestations
Ego slowly got up, his muscles numb as if he had been asleep for centuries.
He looked at his hands, his chest, his legs it was no longer the same body.
Black veins pulsed faintly under his pale skin. His fingers moved with mechanical precision. His breath was... too steady. Too perfect.
— Hmmm... Those bastards did a good job...
(he stretched violently)
— ARRRGGHHHHH! Damn, it feels good to get out of that rat hole. Breathing deep... The smells! The sounds! Having a body!
He bent down and sniffed the air, heavy with iron from all the blood this body had lost. But even that felt good. He finally felt alive.
— Well... Sorry kid, but you'll probably stay in the closet for quite some time.
...
— What? You're mute even inside your own head? BAHAHAHAHA!
No answer.
But a presence deep inside seemed at peace. Like a crushed conscience finally freed from the weight of existence. Ego knew he was not alone in this flesh but the other wouldn't cause any trouble.
— Well... It's no fun if I can't talk to these idiots who serve as my roommates. This is going to be a long ride...
He looked around, then approached the metal table bolted to the floor. He placed a hand on it and lifted it with one arm.
The metal groaned, bolts popped out. He spun it for a moment before slamming it back down with a CLANG.
A slow smile crept on his lips.
— Damn... I'm really a monster. BAHAHAH. This is exactly what I needed.
Then footsteps. Different from the others.
Calm. Steady. Sharp.
The door opened.
A man entered. He wasn't wearing the black armor of the guards but a dark tunic with scarlet trim, split at the sides. A breastplate engraved with a golden sigil covered his chest, and a studded pauldron reinforced his left arm. At his belt hung a gauntlet and a short baton. His icy gaze was enough to impose silence and obedience.
— You! Move now. To the dorms.
Not a word more.
Ego stared him straight in the eyes as he passed. The man frowned.
— Keep staring at me like that... and you'll soon regret having eyes.
...
Ego kept walking.
They were led down ever longer corridors. The steps dragged.
There were only about ten left.
Some had filthy bandages, others barely stood.
One little one crawled on all fours, dragged by the sleeve by another.
When they reached the dorms.
They realized that "dorm" was not the right word for this place.
It was an enclosure, divided by chains and piles of moldy straw mats. A pale light came from a strange torch planted in the wall.
This was where they would sleep. Eat. Or die. In the coming days.
The guards left them there. Without a word.
After a moment.
Jem recognized Ego or rather the mute lying alone on a mat at the back.
He hesitated... then walked over.
— …the mute?
The boy didn't answer. He opened one eye. Calm. No warmth.
It was no longer the mute. It was something else.
Jem felt a shiver run down his spine. He stopped a meter away.
Then he mustered his courage and sat down. Right next to him. Without a word.
Slowly, others came.
Oril, a boy with straw-colored hair, always nervous.
Sarn, a silent girl, eyes wide open as if recording everything.
They hung out with Jem... so, by default, in the Pit, now with Ego.
No friendship. Just a gathering of the living.
That night, a guard threw some buckets in a corner.
Dry bread. Gray paste. A jug of water.
The children rushed like starving dogs.
Some even laughed. Nervously, but sincerely.
In the Pit, they ate only once every three days... when things went well.
What they just got... was a feast.
All except Ego.
He stared at the bucket. The bread. The paste.
— After an eternity in the dark... you offer me this?
He sniffed the paste, tasted it with his fingertips... then threw it aside.
— I want meat. Alcohol. Not scraps for dead dogs.
He laid back down, eyes fixed on the stone ceiling.
A shout rang out. It was the man in the dark tunic, back again.
— Lie down. NOW!
No one argued.
They lay down. One by one. Not a sound. Not a breath too many.
The torch flickered... then went out.
The dorm plunged into total darkness.
And ended that day of horror.