Weak
He had been just a boy, 14 years of age, when he was lowered into the hole of hell. A nameless orphan stealing a simple thing like water in the middle of the Eastern Desert was enough reason to be put there. Out of sight, out of mind, the master of the little township had said and he was swept away by the guards.
The rope was never long enough, the prisoners already knew that. They had seen it many times, the last few meters down, the guards simply cut the rope and let the new inmate drop like a toy. Many came down broken, some were picked up already dead.
The boy was lucky, he fell like a cat, twisting and turning in the air and only bruising his arms when he crashed to the floor. No one took much notice of the adolescent, children were nothing new anymore. Many years now children had been among them, some being able to survive, others had not been so lucky. Most of the children were easy prey for the more violent prisoners. But the boy was careful, he hid away into the shadows and did not mingle with the others.
They called him Bane, because of the herbs he had in his pocket, Wolfsbane, a strong sedative that the boy had used to sleep without nightmares. He did not use it in the Hole, he didn't want to sleep. But this took its toll on him, he grew weary and weak, and careless. The prisoners took advantage of his debilitated state and pushed him around, punched him and hurt him. The last beating was so dire that the boy lay unconscious for several hours, until he woke to a cool touch on his cheek.
My love, my heart - bruised and broken, all alone when we're apart
I die inside - this room is like a battlefield of love tonight
I know I should be stronger but I lose all control
Fighting with myself trying to hide what you don't know
It was the soft hand of a young girl, not more than 10 years, he thought. Her face was dirty with grime and streaked with dried tears, yet her eyes shone mischievously. She held her head low and tried to sneak out before the boy opened his eyes, but he quickly grabbed her by the wrist.
"I am sorry...she whispered. "I did not mean to wake you…"
"Who are you?" he wanted to know but she didn't answer. Carefully, not to hurt him, she pried open the grasp of his finger, when he finally released her, she withdrew into the darkness outside of the cell.
"Rest…" were her last words before she vanished from his sight.
Even though he felt awful and his body ached, Bane began to roam around the prison and search for the girl, dodging the watching eyes of the prisoners, moving like a shadow. He looked everywhere but did not find her, yet there was one room in a far away corner of the pit, where the older men did not allow him to go. He tried and received only more punches but he wouldn't give up. He caught a glimpse of her, being dragged around from one man to the next, her naked body bruised and cut.
But as much as he tried, he could not get past the hurdle of men, he got pushed back every time he tried. He wasn't strong enough to help her. Rage and despair lined his face and weighed down his heart but as hard as he fought, there was no way through. He was just a boy, undernourished and puny.
Silently, glowering and smoldering, he returned to his cell. He sat next to the bed for long hours, then he knew what he had to do. He would protect her, and would not let anything like that happen to her again. Looking down on himself, he saw his scrawny arms, his bony chest, his thin legs, and realized that in this shape he would not be able to do so.
He had learned to live without much food. He had learned to live without sunlight and hope. Yet there was something blossoming inside his chest, replacing hope and need. He lifted his hands up and stared at them, then clenched them into fists and got up onto his feet.
He worked his body, his mind and soul, forcing himself to the limits. When his strength began to fade, he bit down the pain and kept working until he collapsed on the floor, exhausted, falling into a restless sleep with his entire body aching.
~*~
But I get weak
I'm giving it all away
I know it's not wise to leave myself so open but
All the rules get broken in your eyes
I give it all up to you
And everything that's been keeping me together
Brings me to my knees
I get weak
Months passed without incidents but Bane was ever watchful. Every moment he steeled his body, every moment he trained. Soon, he was not the undersized boy anymore. His feeble body was transforming into something bigger and harder. Sometimes he saw her, some bruises slowly fading, others blooming into life on her skin where the rags she wore as clothes did not cover her. Yet she seemed peaceful, nothing on her face showed the pain she must be going through.
Then one day she disappeared. At nightfall, when the prisoners quieted down and turned to uneasy slumber, he snuck into the back room where he knew he would find her. And there she was, naked under the crust of blood and dirt, face bloodied, eyes swollen shut, body painfully twisted. Yet she was calm, her breathing came steady and he did not hear her moan.
Slowly, he approached her. His fingers groped through the dirt until they found her hand and while they intertwined with hers, he felt a gentle squeeze. She turned her head, ever so slowly and twisted her bruised mouth into a crooked smile. Before she was able to speak, Bane put a finger to her lips and hushed her, then he pulled her as carefully as he could into his arms and lifted her up. He took her through the shadows of night into his cell, closed the door and put her down onto the bedstead. She was already sleeping when he covered her with the thin and hole-riddled blanket.
That night, he didn't sleep. He worked himself harder than before, sweating and panting until the anger in his stomach turned into strength.
When the girl woke, Bane was by her side with food and water. She smiled apologetically and lowered her eyes, as if his intense gaze made her uncomfortable.
"What happened to you last night?" he asked after a while. He knew well what the men had done to her, yet there was nothing he could have done to prevent it. The girl did not answer immediately, she only moved her mouth, obviously trying to find the words.
Bane reached out for her. "What is your name?" He asked when he held her hand in his.
Now she looked straight at him. "Dunya..." she whispered. Bane knew that this name meant something close to world but he felt that there was more to her name than just the meaning.
"Please, don't worry about me..." But she saw in his eyes that he did. "It is difficult sometimes to not be a man down here..." she looked down onto her hands again, entwining the fingers. He reached out for her again, this time cupping her chin and raising her face to meet his.
"You look different…" she whispered again. He looked down on himself and for the first time he noticed how much he had changed. The torn clothes that barely covered his body showed the hardened shape, the strong muscles. The image of a wild bear came to his mind, pure uncaged strength. Bane.
Her eyes were deep and dark and he lost himself in them and he made the silent promise to never leave her. Dunya pulled him into her embrace and he let himself be surrounded by her, in her. He did so carefully, avoiding putting too much pressure on her bony body. It was not long before he found sweet sleep.
~*~
One look, one touch - I'm helplessly pretending you don't mean that much
It gets so hard - the waiting here forever with this shattered heart
Lying to myself trying to act like I don't care
The way it's killing me every time that you're not there
When he woke up, his hands were bound behind his back and Dunya was gone. He struggled against the restraints and straining his muscles, the rope snapped quickly. He burst out of the dark chamber, and followed the faint shouts and the clamor which lead him straight to the far away room.
And there he saw her, the already torn clothes only rags now, clinging to her wet body, spit mingled with blood and tears. The beating she had received was much worse than the previous, and she could not bear much more. Her eyes were bright with pain and her lips pressed together in a thin white line but still, cries of anguish escaped her.
Breaking through the crowds, he tore at the men, choked them and threw them to the side. He crushed skulls with his bare hands, he snapped necks with the flick of his fingers. He tasted blood and his fury burned even hotter.
The prisoners were not prepared for him. Many fell, more died and when Bane finally reached Dunya, his body was wet with the blood of the dead and the passageway from where he had emerged was now a path of broken corpses.
Dunya could not care less about what was going on around her. Eyes wide as much as she could in her swollen face, she stared at him in horror and clung to him like a person drowning when he picked her up, once again just like the night before. One man, relatively young – and strong – by the looks of it, tried to block the way. Bane glared at him and in his throat formed an animalistic growl which raised into a cry so terrible that the opponent backed away into the wall, face white with horror.
But Bane couldn't stop himself. Pressing Dunya's broken body against his, he slammed a fist into the man's face, bringing him to his knees, then placed his foot below his chin and slowly pushed down, crushing the man's throat. Frothy blood bubbled from the man's mouth as Bane watched him fall away and die, ever so slowly. A wolfish smile played around his lips but a low moan of the girl in his arms pulled him back to reality.
He rushed back into his cell, blocking the door and again, he laid her down onto his bed, this time curling up beside her, holding her tightly so that she could not be taken away from him again.
I get weak
And all the walls I've been building up
Just crack and then break when you're around
I get weak
And nothing I do to fight it matters now
Years passed. Bane had not realized it at first, but he cared more and more about Dunya until he completely devoted himself to her. He loved her, yet what he felt was more than love. The neediness and the craving he felt, the necessity of being with her, of protecting her was what made him want to pull through. He made her well-being his first objective, sharing whatever scarce food there was, protecting her, killing for her. Dunya accepted all of this silently, she only spoke to him during the nights where they laid side by side, caressing each other.
Bane had grown into a beast, strong and with a lot of hidden anger, but her serenity helped contain it. He would have done everything for her, given everything for her. If she had told him to climb the walls of the pit without the rope, he would have. But she never did. She never demanded anything from him. She seemed perfectly happy with whatever he could give her. And she herself gave him more than he could have ever needed. Just like he was devoted to her, she was devoted to him.
Bane and Dunya lived as peacefully as they could. His reputation kept the other prisoners at bay, and she was safe when she was close to him. And she kept close to him.
It did not take long for both of them to discover what their love to each other could lead to and they loved each other like people drowning in an endless ocean during the cold nights. They were helpless in these waves of emotion, not knowing how to measure, not knowing how to survive without each other.
~*~
But I get weak
I'm giving it all away
I know it's not wise to leave myself so opened but
All the rules get broken in your eyes
I give it all up to you
And everything that's been keeping me together
Brings me to my knees
I get weak
Bane had grown into a man with hard facial features and steel muscles, Dunya into a wiry young woman, skinny and scarred. The 14 years he had spent in the pit had left their marks on both of them. Their love to each other still blazed flaming hot, and no one could take that away from them. Even though confined in the pit, they felt free and took on their lives as if the pit was all there was.
Then, one day, a thunderstorm shook the stony walls and frightened the prisoners. In the pit, weren't many places to hide, and those that there were, were already occupied. It lasted three days and a handful of the prisoners, having been exposed to the storm, the lightning and the roar of thunder had gone insane. They started hurting themselves and others around them and some involved Bane in a fight.
There was only one survivor, of course. But the few moments of confusion and distraction had been enough to lose focus on Dunya. When the last man was killed, Bane looked around frantically, but he could not find her.
There was a small, sick feeling in the depth of his stomach and he knew that something bad had happened. The clouds up high framing the high tunnel of deadly stone forebode nothing good. As fast as he could, he pushed through the crowd of prisoners into his cell, only to find Dunya in the grip of another handful of men with crazed faces, twisting her broken body and then throwing her to the floor. Bane felt anger billowing up in him, his hands curled to fists unconsciously.
There was another woman, screaming as she was being taken away by others. Bane saw the flash of light as it broke on the cold metal of the sharp blade as it put an end to the screaming but he could not care less.
All the anger broke free now, the containing barrier that had been Dunya fell away, and he put his hands on the first prisoner he came by. Silently, quickly, he snapped his neck and let him drop to the ground. On and on he marched, a deadly machine, strong, powerful, killing as he went. He reached Dunya, kicked away the men already bending over her, crowing. As he picked her up into his arms, he could almost feel the life fleeing her body. It ran through his hands and albeit all his strength and all his anger, he could not stop her from dying.
Dropping to his knees, he pressed her against himself, eyes tearing up, whispering words of prayer into her matted hair. When the remaining prisoners stepped closer, Bane hissed at them like a cornered animal, yet the fury in his eyes kept them at bay.
Dunya now looked at him one last time, smiling slightly, one hand caressing his cheek. "The child…" she whispered through cracked lips. She stirred in his arms, her mouth forming his name but there was no breath left to carry them out. Her limb hand fell away. Her eyes had turned upward looking sightlessly into the open sky.
It took him a moment to fully understand what had just happened. Dunya – gone, taken from him. But there was no rage left in him. His heart pounded in his chest as if it wanted to escape from the pain that was raging in him. He buried his face in her hair and finally, there were tears, but not for long. There were more prisoners coming into the back room and then he heard a high-pitched scream. It sounded so much like Dunya many years ago when he first met her.
Looking up from the broken body of his love, he saw a young girl, not more than 8 years – just like Dunya when he had been sent to the pit – clinging to the murdered woman, tearing on her arm, trying to fend off the men who wanted to take advantage of her and the dead woman.
This girl, who reminded him so much of Dunya, was at the same time so different than her. This one stood up for herself, tried to defend her dead mother and herself. There was a spark in her eyes that Bane knew only from himself.
Ever so slowly, he carefully placed the body of Dunya on the ground and stroke back some strands of hair from her face. Then he stood up to his entire height, looming over the men and the child. Fear began to dawn in the crazed eyes, hands let go of both woman and girl, feet retreated to the darker area of the prison.
The little girl was not crying, yet her lower lip trembled. She glanced up at Bane, taking in his hulky frame, and whispered: "I am all alone..."
Bane closed his arms around her and whispered back: "You have me now..."
~the end~