This is a lot different than I usually do, it's definitely darker than any of my other stories and will have mature themes.
15 years, 7 months and 13 days. Most people would have forgotten that time existed. But she couldn't. She knew exactly how long she'd been in hell. She could only hope that time in this dimension ran faster than the dimension she had had once called home. She prayed that was true, her partner wouldn't leave her here for that long. If she was wrong it meant that he'd given up on looking for her. When she was truly sad she wondered if he had already found a new partner, did he even still remember she was here?
Her world was now filled with pain, both mental and physical. Has was everyone else's. Their screams of annoy and fear bleed trough the walls at night. Her screams had joined them when she had first arrived, but like everyone else who had given into despair and had given up hope of ever being rescued, she fell silent. As new humans were caught and locked up she wondered how long they'd last before they, also, fell silent. But they still had nightmares and the screaming would start again.
Prisoner No.907 had gotten used to their screams a long time ago.
907's dangling feet barely touched the cold, stone-brick floor. Chains that were attached to the ceiling were keeping 907 in a standing position, at first the chains had just been coated with other people's dried blood. But her blood had soon joined it. She had found it uncomfortable in the beginning to sleep standing up but she had soon adapted.
She had a small window in her cell but there was no point trying to escape trough it because 907 was on 29th floor and the window was to small anyway. Red light was shining through the window and hitting the cold, unyielding bars, making them sparkle. 907 would have found the deep red sky beautiful had she not been viewing it from her chained position in the middle of the room.
She was waiting for them now. The Leera. They always came to take 907 out of her chains as the red sun rises. It had become a signal to her that it was time for more training with the other prisoners. It had taken 907 a long time to gain the others trust; she had appeared out of nowhere after all. Everyone was afraid to show weakness here and in their eyes kindness is a weakness. It also wasn't wise to get to know other prisoners because they could die or be sent off to fight at anytime. It just isn't worth it.
This dimension is at war. When the Leer and the Leera had been banished to this dimension by 907's ancestor, she hadn't sent them to an unpopulated world. The Leer and the Leera had quickly gained power over the humans. But when they had started fighting between themselves for resources, the war began. The Leera turned against the Leer. Both sides started imprisoning humans and training them to be their soldiers. The Leera and the Leer never fought in their own war, the human prisoners were taught to do it for them. The Leera that had slipped through the portal the first time hadn't been trying to open the portal again so more Leera could come out. He was opening it so humans could go in. The Leera are losing and need more soldiers, and when the Leera found himself in a world filled with millions of humans he saw an opportunity. 7 billion humans would win him the war.
907 had been at a disadvantage to most of the other prisoners. They had been training since the age of 8 but 907 had only started training at 12. It wasn't a massive disadvantage, she was still better than some when she first started. Hours and hours of training and harsh punishments when she failed had forced her to catch up. Soon 907 was one of the best. She was trained to use knives, swords and her magic. New skills she never knew she had were discovered. New weapons were suddenly open to her. Her bow was still her choice of weapon, in the other dimension she hadn't been amazing with a bow, but after years of training…she couldn't miss. Old skills, such as her necromancy, she'd had to hide. If the Leera knew she could use that kind of magic she'd have been killed a long time again. Her ring was close though, hidden. 907 didn't mind, she had so many new powers such as creating ice and being able to influence nature, and she still practiced necromancy secretly.
907 loved the new strength and power she had. But there was a cost. Scars covered most of her body. They were visible because she wore very little clothes. A white, long sleeved t-shirt that left her stomach and ribs visible and small black shorts. Her hair had grown a lot in the years she had been here; it was now kept in a long plait that was clipped to one side of her shirt so it couldn't be pulled on the Saturdays' fighting match. It was all against all, winner stayed on. No matter if you were deathly ill or had a serious injury, you fought in the arena. 907 had gotten many injuries from the fight. Deep cuts, internal bleeding, concussions and cracked bones. The leera have a medical room but they don't do much. If you get seriously injured, it's up to you to fix yourself. 907 still had all the scars from the times in the beginning of her imprisonment when she had lost. Long scars marred her back and legs, her wrists are permanently bruised from the chains that held her. If she had been back home Doctor Nye would have been able to get rid of the scars no problem. But 907 wasn't at home.