"Get up slaves. You all know the drill." The rough voice pierced his empty sleep, rousing him from dreamless slumber for yet another day in his endless life of pain. "Don't make me say it again." The guard stood over him, glaring down at him.
He nodded once, rolling over and pushing himself slowly up and following the procession of his fellows out of the cages and into the palace. By now he knew his daily route so well that he could literally walk it blindfolded, and he knew his chores so intimately, that he could have done them in his sleep. But that would have been unbecoming of a servant of 'The Masters', so he forced himself to stay awake.
He shuffled along the splendorous hallways, stopping to bow down to the floor whenever one of The Masters passed by, and once they were gone, he rose once more and shuffled on his way once more. He found his way into the room that he was to clean today. It was a massive chamber with huge vaulted ceilings, filled with hundreds of treasures and items that The Masters had acquired and collected. He was not allowed to touch the treasures of course. But he was to ensure that every other inch of the chamber was radiantly spotless by the time the sun began to set.
He set to work with machine-like efficiency. Years of experience having taught him every contour and grain in the surfaces he cleaned. he didn't even bother to look at what he was doing with more than cursory glances to ensure that nothing was out of place.
Hours ground by, and nothing new happened. Just as he had known nothing new would happen. Just as nothing new had happened since he could remeber.
This was how he lived his life. Mechanical. Devoid of anything that they could use to hurt him. He had learned that lesson very early on. Perhaps a year after he had been branded. They liked to hurt the slaves who had weaknesses to exploit. But he had nothing that could be exploited, and so they had ceased looking for ways to hurt him. He had become their 'model slave'. One who would do his tasks without complaint, without comment. And at the end of the day, that was all The Masters really cared about in their slaves.
His cage door slammed shut behind him as he stepped into his cell and sat down cross-leged, gazing out of his cell door bars at the entryway to the cellblock. No one bothered to pay him any mind. Why would they? After all, he was simply a slave. Little more than a dog.
If anyone ever bothered to look in his eyes however, especially at night, when he didn't need to be as careful, they would see what he worked so hard to hide. His eyes, dark and vibrant even after so long in this place, burned with a fierce hatred each night.
It was a full moon out, he noted as the moonlight crept into the dark entryway. Just like that night...
Ten years earlier, he'd had a name. He'd been a person. He'd been a child.
As he sat in his cell, he tried to think back to before. Before he had been branded, before he had been tortured for the enjoyment of his owners, before his name had been stripped from him, and replaced with a worthless number.
Ten years ago it had happened. He remembered the night vividly. Whenever he did dream, it was always of that night. He and his family, at least he thought they were his family, had been on a small passenger vessel in one of the seas, he no longer remembered which, but he remembered the blue. They had left their home, hoping for a new life of possibility somewhere else.
It had been a good night, his parents, is that the word? Parent? He hadn't thought about the word in so long, had brought a delicious dinner from the ships galley, and they had shared it with each other, sitting on the deck, watching the moon and the stars. Watching the black and blue of the sea...
Then the explosions had begun. Cannon fire had rained down on the ship from out of the darkness, as another ship closed in on them in the night. He remembered his parents shouting, screaming for him to hide. He could no longer remember the sound of their voices anymore. The ship caught fire, there were men, large and violent looking. And then... black.
He next awoke in his first cell. It had been a small thing, just large enough to house his small, seven year old body. The men who had taken him ensured that he would not die, but otherwise didn't even acknowledge his existence. He had been scared. He had been terrified. Then the man came in, opened his cage, and put the collar on him. He had been told that if he tried to escape, or if he tried to remove it, then it would kill him.
He was taken to a strange building, in a forest where bubbles had floated everywhere. And there, The Masters had bought him.
His first year had been hell. Once he had made it to their estate, The Masters had removed his collar. He tried to escape. The beating that he received that day was the single worst experience of his life. At least until The Masters decided to have him beaten again. Every month, they beat him, and each time, he cried until he physically could no longer do so. Which told the Masters that their sport worked, and they could continue to enjoy themselves.
It took him fifteen beatings, fifteen months to discover the secret. And at the end of the fifteenth beating, he didn't cry. The Masters quickly grew bored of their 'broken' toy, tossing him aside to live a life of endless work, until he would eventually die. Fortunately for him, they had not thought to watch his eyes for the next nine years, or they would have found that he was nowhere near as broken as they had thought.
His ears twitched as he heard the sound of a scream cut through the night air, dragging him back to the present. So... He thought, One of them has a new toy... Great... now I'll never get to sleep. He sat still, legs still crossed and closed his eyes, listening to the screams. A girl... Probably means that Saint Corbaz is the one still awake. He's usually the one who goes for girls. Especially the ones with voices like that...
As his thoughts flowed, he felt bile rise in the back of his throat. Look at me... He thought, I've become as hideous as those monsters that call themselves our Owners... I can actually listen to the screams and cries of a woman and simply ignore them...
He felt disgusted with himself, his hatred of the Masters had seemingly burned away everything that he had known of real human decency. Clamping his eyes shut, he clapped his hands over his ears and lay down, curling into a ball. Please... make it stop... make it stop! Let me wake up from this endless nightmare! Please!
"Up you get slaves." The guard's voice roused him once again.
He pushed himself up, shuffling out of his cage to receive his daily assignment. Another uneventful day in the endless procession.
"Number 7. Stop, you've got a special job today." He froze, his eyes widening in surprise as the guard called him out. "Yeah you, get your idiotic ass over here."
He hurried to comply, Ever the faithful slave I am. Until the day I eventually rip your fucking throat out you sorry excuse for a human being. He followed the guard into the estate.
"His holiness Saint Corbaz apparently got a little too overzealous last night." The guard explained quietly as they walked. "The girl that he was enjoying is in critical condition. You are to care for her, and ensure that she'll be able to be on her feet once again when the Saint decides that it's time to enjoy her again."
He didn't understand, he had no medical knowledge. And why should he waste his time taking care of a dead woman? It made no sense. The guard obviously understood his expression, because he answered before he could actually voice the question. "You're not the one actually treating her. You're just there to watch her, and make sure that she doesn't die. The Doctor is with her now, you're going to be his 'assistant'."
They entered a small medical ward, the smell of sterilization and antiseptic heavy in the air. The Doctor stood over the room's only other occupant, he was ticking off little marks on a clipboard as he looked over the woman. Sharp eyes flicked up, noticing the newcomers. "Ah... Number 7. Good of you to come." He said in a refined accent. Seven simply nodded flashing him the smallest of smiles. "Still not speaking eh? No matter, you won't need a voice for this. You are to simply sit here, and watch her. If she wakes, come and get me. If she starts screaming in her sleep, come and get me. Do you understand?" Another nod. "Good. If her condition destabilizes in any way, come and find me. Saint Corbaz still has uses for her, so we must ensure that she survives." With that, The Doctor turned and walked away, leaving Seven alone with her.
He found a small chair and set it down beside her, sitting down and curling his legs up to his chest. He didn't move. He barely seemed to breathe as he sat, watching her for what felt like an eternity, whoever she actually was.
She's beautiful... He thought as he watched her, No wonder Corbaz went overboard with his 'affections'. He can't stand the thought that someone may be more beautiful than him... not that it's particularly difficult.
He tore his thoughts away from that line of thinking, instead focusing on the woman. She was young, he guessed around his age, possibly a year or two older but he couldn't tell for sure. Her hair was long and wonderfully dark, it draped around her sleeping form almost like a veil, reaching almost to her waist. And while the rest of her figure was hidden beneath sheets and slaves robes, her face was pristine and nearly angelic to his eyes.
There was something remarkably calming about watching her like this. He couldn't figure out why, but as he watched her sleep, somehow, the past ten years of hell seemed to just flow away. Leaving the scared lonely boy that he had been, and yet he felt comfortable, at peace.
Just who is she...? He wondered quietly to himself. Where does she come from...?
Hours passed, he continued to watch. The world itself seemed to fade away, there was nothing but the two of them.
"Enjoying yourself?" The Doctor's voice cut across his thoughts like a blade, startling him out of his seat. "I'll take that as a yes. By all means, take your seat once more. It is not often that one of you is allowed such a luxury is it?" As he sat back down, The Doctor moved around to the other side of the woman's cot, lifting her delicate hand and checking her pulse. "Hmm. Seems that she's stable at least... She'll probably wake up after a few days. I suppose that I should inform His Grace that she'll be available again after that."
He felt his muscles tighten at the statement. So casual, so conversational. It sickened him, that anyone could just go along with anything that the Masters did. Not one of them had a shred of humanity in the pits that should have held their souls. He managed to keep his face expressionless as he sat there, eyes on that angelic face, quietly begging her forgiveness for his own cowardice and inability.
The Doctor's voice once again cut into his thoughts, "I would like you to remain here with her for the night. In case she wakes in the middle of the night." A quiet nod. "Good, I'll station one of the guards outside, just to make sure nothing happens. If she wakes, come and get me."
He was still nodding when what The Doctor had said fully sunk in. A night spent outside of his cell? He couldn't believe it. None of them were allowed outside of their cells at night. This day was something that he had never anticipated. Forcing himself to calm down, he nodded once more.
"Good. Then sleep well Number Seven. Remember, if anything changes, come and find me."
It was then that he noticed the light outside, the sun had already begun to set. His eyes widened, looking back to the woman, and then outside once more. How...? How did I just spend the whole day watching her and not even notice? It only feels like it's been an hour at most.
He pulled his chair a little ways away from her, retrieved one of the blankets from the second cot, and curled up once more. He sat that way for hours as the sun went down, shadows lengthening into darkness as night fell, and the moon began to rise, and he slowly began to doze quietly off into sleep.
"So he did leave someone to guard me..." A voice, quiet, musical, and beautiful reached his ears. Instantly, he was awake again, his gaze snapping up and locking with a pair of brilliant golden eyes. The woman was sitting up, her eyes locked on him. Her eyes were as beautiful as the rest of her, but what shocked him about them most was the fire that he saw burning within them. It wasn't hatred like he knew burned in him, it was something else. Something that felt even more powerful. He scrambled out of his chair, rising to go fetch The Doctor, however, he felt something soft against his neck as he moved. "Make a noise, and I rip your throat out." She said, her small, delicate fingers curled around his neck in a grip of shocking strength. "Understand?"
He managed to nod, suddenly terrified of this strange beautiful woman. He hadn't heard her, or even seen her move. But she had closed the distance between them in the time it had taken him to blink. Just who is she?
Slowly, he lowered himself back into his chair, curling up his legs against his chest and watching the woman intently as she began moving quietly around the room. She moved with a grace that he had never thought a human could be capable of, stealthily inspecting the windows and the door. As she exhausted each option, he could see her expression darken further and further, until finally she moved back to the bed and sat down with a huff. "Stupid... Should have known there'd be guards everywhere... Stupid. Stupid. Well shit. Pop's gonna kill me for this." Finally she glanced up, once more acknowledging his existence. "You got at name kid?"
He jumped in slight shock as she addressed him, then pulled his tunic collar down, revealing the numeral '7' tattooed onto the base of his neck and pointed to it.
"'Seven'? Your name is a number?" He nodded meekly, "That's fucked kid, seriously." He simply shrugged and gestured around them, "What? You don't talk?" He shook his head, "That by force or choice?" He shrugged, "Whatever." She crossed her legs and arms, hunkering down in thought. "Gotta figure a way out of here... Otherwise Pop's gonna tear the whole island apart..."
That caught his attention, he perked up, seeming to lean forward. She must have noticed, as she looked up, catching his eye. "My Pop's a Pirate. Same as me, a powerful one." He felt his eyes widen, a pirate! She was a Pirate!
He had heard tales and stories of course. Everyone had. When he had been a child, Pirates were at once the scourge of all that was good, if you asked the Marines. Or they were the truest expression of freedom to ever sail the oceans, if you were to ask a romantic. In the slave pens, there had been many former pirates to pass through, some captured by the World Government, others brought in by the Master's personal 'collectors'. And each of those former Pirates had told stories of their lives on the seas. But none of them had ever had the same fire of hatred and anger that he knew burned in him, or the powerful aura of independence that he could feel coming from this woman.
But here she was... a real Pirate, one who's free spirit had yet to be beaten out of her by the Master's lashes. This, he realized, was what made her so beautiful to him. She was so pure, so... alive. I can't let them take that. He suddenly realized. I can't let that spirit die! He was on his feet so fast that the woman blinked in shock before moving backwards, clearly wary.
He raised his hands, gesturing for her to be calm, before looking around. He then moved over to the Doctor's desk, his hands quickly finding the man's notepad and a pen. Ancient lessons from his childhood rushed into his mind as he suddenly found himself eager and excited about something for the first time since he had first been put in chains.
The woman watched suspiciously as the pen scribbled furiously across the page. He wrote like some kind of madman, as if afraid that the ability would somehow leave him if he was to slow down. Finally, he set the pen down and moved back over towards her with the pad.
Her eyes widened as he held it up and towards her. "A map...?" She asked in silent wonder as he handed it to her. It was drawn in shocking detail, damn near a work of art. "Well well..." She smiled, "Aren't you just full of surprises." He shrugged, gesturing for the pad back. She tore off the map page, tucking it into her shirt before handing the notepad to him once more.
He retrieved the pen once more, scribbling away on the pad, before moving back to her and holding it up. This time there were words, some of them misspelled but clearly heartfelt. Nevr met one lik U. It said. He then wrote once more, U ar stil free. Evn in here.
She suddenly smiled, realizing what he was trying to say. "Well of course I am." She said with no small amount of pride in her voice. "If I let something like this get me down after so little time, I'd never be able to face the Old Man again." He flinched at her words, as if something she said had been an insult aimed at him. She smiled softly, "If it's any consolation, you seem to have a pretty free soul yourself."
He closed his eyes, his head shaking sadly. No. He wrote, No free. Only Hate.
When his eyes opened once more, she realized what he was talking about. She saw the fire in his eye, and frankly, it scared her. "Ok, new question. If you know this place so well that you can draw a map of it like that, and if you hate them all so much, why don't you escape?"
He paused for a moment, clearly not sure of the answer himself. The silence stretched on for several minutes, until finally, he scribbled onto the pad. I dont no. His expression was clouded, lost in his own thoughts. Then he shook his head and wrote again, Not importnt now. U ar free, U need to be free.
She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "Ok..." She once again took out the map he had drawn, looking at it for a minute. Everything she needed was here. It showed the corridors and passages that slaves used to move beyond the sight of the Masters, as well as places where guards would likely be waiting. "Ok. I'll escape. But not like this." He tilted his head in confusion, "If I just vanish like this, they'll know you helped me. So I have an idea, but you may not like it."
Alexi struggled to keep his eyes open. It was torture guarding the palace grounds at night, nothing ever happened. Even worse, he was stuck watching over the entrance to the Doctor's chambers. Which meant that he was literally guarding a mute and a woman in a coma.
Silently, he cursed his lot in life. He knew that these slaves deserved better than they received. He honestly felt sorry for them, wished that he could do something to help. But Alexi was also a realist. He knew that trying to liberate any of these slaves from their cages would only make their lives worse. And so he went about his life in more or less perpetual, (all be it very well paid and comfortable) misery.
He stood, arms crossed, leaning against the wall of the hallway, his eyes on the door to the Doctor's chambers, and occasionally flicking around to either end of the hall. He was extremely bored. He knew nothing was going to happen, and that just made standing here waiting all the worse.
He was just about to actually doze off, when a smash reached his ears. Instantly, he was fully awake, and his pistol was in his hand. The sound had come from the Doctor's chamber, he crossed to the door, easing it open slowly. The sight that awaited him was not what he had expected; the slave, Number Seven, was on the floor, clearly unconscious, having clearly been thrown across the room and having crashed through the Doctor's desk. Near the bed, stood the woman who was supposed to be comatose. Her eyes were filled with fury and hatred, such that it actually froze the blood in his veins.
Alexi made to shout in alarm, forcing his body to obey him and aiming his pistol at the terrifying woman. However before the sound was even halfway out of his mouth, her cold, delicate fingers were curled around his neck with the strength of a Sea King's jaws.
"Ah, ah. Not so fast." She purred sensuously, pulling him in till he was inches from her nose. "Can't have you raising too much of an alarm just yet. Wouldn't really be sporting for me now would it?" He tried to re-aim his gun to shoot her, but her free hand grabbed his wrist and twisted viciously.
The pistol fell uselessly to the floor and Alexi felt nothing but white hot pain. "Thank you so much for the present little man." The woman said with a wicked grin, "Now then, I really need to be getting going, so I need to change into something a bit more comfortable. No peeking."
Then her fist collided with his skull, and Alexi knew nothing more.
Morning rose quietly. The Doctor was up just before the first light of dawn, as he always was. He went through his daily exercises, ensuring that he was in good enough shape to keep up with the endless demands of the Masters. With an apple in hand, he made his way through the palatial compound, noting that several slaves were trailing back to their cages, clearly having just completed their nightly cleaning duties.
It wasn't until he was in the hall outside of his little medical offices that he realized something was odd. The guard was nowhere to be seen. The Doctor paused, looking around for the missing man, before swiftly making for the chamber.
As the dawn's light was just cracking over the horizon, the alarm howled to life all across the compound. Slaves all stopped, looking around puzzled at the sound. The alarm meant that a slave was trying to escape, but that was impossible. There were no slaves foolish enough to try escaping. Were there?
In the Doctor's chamber, Seven was violently shaken awake to find himself face to face with several guards. "WHERE IS SHE?!" One of them roared at him. He swiftly shook his head, shrugging at the same time, trying to convey that he didn't know.
"It's useless fool." Another guard said, "Seven doesn't know how to speak. He hasn't in almost a decade."
"The little shit knows more than he's letting on." The first guard said, shaking the skinny man roughly, "I can see it in his eyes."
"Enough!" The cold voice of the Master of the Guard cut across their argument. All the guards present snapped to attention as the imposing man entered the room and scanned it with emotionless eyes.
In the silence, Seven was able to survey the damage as well. He was sore, from the strange woman having actually thrown him hard enough to break the table when he hit it. "Gotta make it convincing." She had said with a coy wink. And Alexi the guard was standing off to the side, wearing nothing but his undergarments. Seven allowed himself a small, secret grin at that, before once again putting on his neutral 'slave face'.
The Master of the Guard finished his survey of the room and turned to Alexi. "Tell me what happened Alexi. Tell me true, and I may try to save you from the Master's anger."
Alexi shuddered, but spoke. "It wasn't long after midnight, I heard a crash from in here. I checked inside and saw the slave unconscious on the ground, and the woman awake and standing in the middle of the room." He shuddered once more, obviously terrified of the vision in his memory, "I tried to raise the alarm, but she was too fast. She got me by the throat and made it so that I couldn't breathe, let alone shout. She disarmed me, and knocked me out. My next memory is the Doctor waking me up."
For several moments, the Master of the Guard simply stood there, watching Alexi sweat. Finally, he turned, "I don't suppose you have anything to add do you slave?" Seven shook his head, cringing under the man's gaze. "Of course not. Intelligence is too much to hope for from you, isn't it?" He sighed, "Very well. I need to report to Saint Corbaz that his new favorite toy has somehow vanished in the night. Scour the compound. Find her, and bring her to me. Alive." He turned and left, leaving everyone else to breathe a heavy sigh of relief.
"Well you heard him." One of the guards said, stepping forward. "Search the grounds, find that woman. Alexi, I'm sorry, but until the boss gives the all clear, we're going to need to hold you and Seven in confinement as those 'responsible'. Hope you understand..."
Seven looked towards his supposed 'accomplice' with a small amount of pity. The poor man had no idea what had really transpired in this room the previous night, and the Masters were not likely to let him off easily or kindly. However, his pity was dulled by his hatred, which still burned ever so hot.
The two were escorted to a wing of cells that were rarely used, and locked up separately. There they sat, for hours.
The cells were of a different design from the normal slave cells. These were large black metal boxes, solid steel on all four walls, as well as the floor and ceiling. The only airflow came from a small barred window on the door. They were designed to torment their occupants with baking heat conducted through the metal from the sun's rays.
Seven sat cross-legged in his cell, feeling the searing pain from the heated metal lance through him. He accepted the pain, allowed it to sharpen his focus, just more fuel on the fire of his hatred. He had occasioned these cells several times in his decade long life here as a slave, so he knew how to embrace the searing agony. Alexi however, was not so lucky.
The guard's pain-filled moans pierced Seven's concentration dozens of times throughout the day. They filled him with disgust. This was supposed to be a man who was stronger than the slaves, meant to be 'better' than the slaves. And here he was, crying like a broken, dying man, while the slave remained silent and strong in this torturous cage.
For hours the two sat in the black cages, silent except for Alexi's often groans of pain. Finally, Seven's ear perked up to something unexpected. "Shit kid... you really are a tough one, you know that...?" Alexi's voice echoed across the small distance between them. "I thought I knew... Thought I knew what it was like. What you and your fellows went through. Thought 'seeing was understanding', you know? But I didn't have a clue..." Seven tilted his head as the guard continued to speak, "I'm so sorry Seven. I wish that I could have caught her, then neither of us would be in this situation..."
Seven felt his eyes widen slightly. Curious... He thought, A guard that isn't absolute shit... How sad that it takes something like this to force them to this way of thinking.
Alexi's voice faded away once more, still mumbling apologies as another sound reached Seven's ear. Someone was approaching. Slowly, a figure appeared in the barred window of the cage, "Get up. both of you." It was the Master of the Guard himself. "Alexi, Saint Corbaz has commanded me to inform you of his... displeasure at you for how you failed to handle this situation. And as such, you will not leave this hot-box until you have realized your position, or the benevolent Lord has decided to allow you to go free once more." Seven assumed that the disgraced guard had nodded, but he otherwise said nothing. "As for you, slave." The Master of the Guard turned to regard him, "You were ordered to inform someone should the woman awaken, given that you failed in this directive, Saint Corbaz has decided that you are to remain in this cage until such a time as you either die, or the Benevolent Lord chooses to release you."
Seven felt his jaw clamp in anger, but he managed to maintain his facade of submission. Damn him. He thought angrily. Damn that petulant fuck to hell. He simply nodded once, turned around and returned to the spot he'd been sitting in. I swear... if I ever get out of here, I SWEAR I will tear Corbaz's head from his shoulders myself!
The Master of the Guard turned on his heel and walked away. After a few moments of silence, Alexi's voice once again echoed from his cage, "I'm so sorry Seven... this is my fault..." It almost sounded like he was about to cry, "I'm so sorry that you are in here with me. You did nothing wrong, you were just caught off guard."
Seven rolled his eyes, Great... now I'm feeling guilty for a fucking guard. He snarled silently, What's next? I somehow find it in me to forgive Corbaz?
The sky outside the cages began to glow orange as the sun began to set. Slowly, the cages began to cool, though Seven knew better than to be happy about that, as the night cold would be just as cruel as the day's sun. He simply closed his eyes and let his mind shut out the world.
Hours continued to pass, the bright glow of sunset eventually fading away to the darkness of night. Seven had just begun to drift off to a cold induced sleep when something landed in front of him, shocking him back to wakefulness. Opening his eyes, he saw a small bag of food had appeared in front of him. "You look like you could use a bite to eat." A sensuous voice said quietly from the door, causing his eyes to widen even further.
Standing outside the door, was the pirate woman, dressed in the fine suit of one of the guards. Seven was on his feet and at the door in the time it took his heart to beat once. He couldn't understand it, what was she doing here still? He had given her the means to escape, why hadn't she?
"Aww, you're cute when you look all flustered and confused." She chuckled lightly. "One sec." She then flitted away from view towards Alexi's cage, and Seven could here her chuckle, "Shit son, you look worse than the slave, that's just sad." There was a violent curse as Alexi realized who was speaking to him, and then a clanging noise. "Woah there tough guy. No touching the goods."
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't start shouting and bring down every guard in this compound on your head." Alexi's voice was hoarse from the day of heat, but his anger was unmistakable.
"Because I've brought you food and water while the shits in there would just as happily leave you to rot out here for the rest of your natural lifespan?" Seven could hear her grin, "Come on, I'm sorry for nearly breaking your wrist and stealing your outfit. I promise I'll only ever do it again if I absolutely have to."
"Go to hell."
"Been there, done that, didn't like the food. Now then," She reappeared in front of Seven's cage. "The reason I am still here, is because I want to ask you a question, Seven." He raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "If I open this cage door, right here, right now, would you be interested in coming with me?" Seven's eyes widened in utter shock. "The offer's open for you too mister fearless guard." She turned her head towards Alexi's cage.
Seven's mind was racing, an actual offer of freedom! Could he take it? Would he have the courage? What would the free air taste like after so long?
Outside his prison, the beautiful woman watched his inner struggle with a soft smile, "Keep in mind as you two consider this, that it's a once in a lifetime offer. If you say no, you'll never see me ever again, and I seriously doubt either of you have what it takes to get out of here on your own."
Seven felt his heart pounding in his chest. He struggled to keep himself calm, but it didn't work. He knew his answer, but he was terrified of it. Finally, he took a deep breath, locked eyes with her, and nodded.
There was a jingle of metal on metal, and the click of a lock being opened. Then the door swung wide, and he stepped nervously outside. She was waiting, that soft smile on her face, "Good choice kid." Turning back to Alexi's cell, she held up the keys, "Offer ends soon tough guy, what's it gonna be?"
Alexi looked worse for wear from what Seven could see, the hot-box had not been kind to him. There were heavy bags under his eyes, and his expression was sallow and shockingly weak compared to the relatively handsome man he had been that morning. Finally he sighed, "Very well... I have no interest in dying in this cage, and I doubt that I could willingly work for the Masters again after today. So I guess I'm with you."
"Smart." She said, unlocking his cell quickly and letting him out. "Alright, let's-" Seven held up his hand, a vicious smile suddenly crossing his lips. "What?"
He turned and swiftly made his way across the courtyard, gesturing for them to follow him. The other two glanced at each other, shrugged, and went after him. They moved quietly through the compound, Seven's knowledge, combined with Alexi's allowing them to avoid any and all guards, until at last they came to the slave's destination.
"What the hell are we doing here?" Alexi hissed as the three crept into the Master's treasure gallery.
The woman's eyes widened in surprise at the wealth on display before her. "Oh man... I could buy a fucking fleet with how much money this stuff is worth!"
Seven ignored them, making his way directly to what he had come for. He had heard stories of them. Seen other slaves forced to wear the special cuffs to seal away their power. And he had been there the day that Corbaz had been given this one as 'tribute'. But now, he was going to hurt the Saint in as many ways as he could before he made his escape from this horrible place.
And so, his hands closed around his prize, pulling it away and turning back to his companions. He held it up for them to see, and both of their eyes widened even more.
"A Devil Fruit..." The woman grinned wickedly. "Good call. That thing could probably really help." As she spoke, she was casually taking small trinkets of gold and priceless jewelry from where they sat.
Even Alexi had given in and was taking various small things that he'd be able to carry. "Since I'm a criminal now anyways..." He grumbled quietly.
"That's the spirit." She laughed quietly.
Seven held his prize in his hands, gazing at it, thinking. Finally, he looked up to the two of them, opened his mouth, and for the first time in over nine years, he spoke. "I am not Seven." He said, quietly, his voice raspy from lack of use, but still stunning his companions all the same. "My name... is Maxwell D. Leon." He then held up the fruit, and took a massive bite.
The taste was horrible. Worse than anything he had ever experienced in all his life, which impressed him, he decided as he forced himself to swallow his bite. Instantly he felt power flood through him and a soft blue light began to emanate from his right arm. He felt stronger than he had ever felt in his life. And he couldn't wait to test out just what this power could actually do. After a few moments, the glow from his arm dimmed once more and nothing else happened.
Meanwhile, Alexi shook his head, "You can talk?!"
Their female companion chuckled. "I figured you were more than you let on. Didn't see that one coming though."
"I'll explain myself to you later Alexi." Leon said, his voice already sounding stronger. "For now, let's grab as much as we can carry and leave this fucking place."
"Knew I sprung you for a reason kid." She said, grabbing an ornately decorated sword and setting it at her hip. "Alexi, was it?" The former guard looked up from the crown he was picking up, "If I give you back your gun, are you going to shoot me in the back?"
"Hell no." Alexi said firmly. "I'm a dead man if I get caught now. I'm in this for the long ride."
"Good." She said, pulling out his pistol and handing it to him. "By the way, since we're getting introductions out of the way, My name's Rose."
"Rose..." Leon let the name roll off his tongue, "It's good, suits you." He picked up a few valuable trinkets before making to leave.
"Oh why thank you Monsieur Maxwell." She gave a mocking bow, "I'm so glad that I meet with your exacting standards." She gave him a playful wink, drawing her new sword and examining it. It was exquisite, the blade was black as night with gold filigree somehow crafted into it, but Rose could tell that the artistry of the gold somehow did not detract from the strength of the blade. The weapon itself was in the form of a standard cutlass design, with a beautifully crafted silver guard in front of the hilt, that was styled like a skull. "Such a gorgeous blade..." She said, holding the blade up before her face, "And that fat pig would have just let it rust away in this place." Her face sneered into a look of utter disgust.
"Corbaz fancies himself a 'Collector' of rare and valuable curios." Alexi said, taking one last look around the room. "To him, it's just a trophy to put on the... hello there..." He suddenly broke off, stepping over to a display that held a pair of ornately decorated pistols. They were the new six shot revolving cylinder weapons that had recently been designed for high ranking Military officials. They were supposed to be all but impossible to obtain otherwise, and yet here were two, one plated in gold, and the other in silver. And sitting in front of the display, was a beautifully crafted case, containing a slot for both guns, as well as almost two dozen bullets. "Now this is beautiful." He said, picking up the two pistols and flicking his wrists with an expert's precision, twirling the two beautiful weapons around in an impressive display of manual dexterity.
"Impressive." Leon said quietly agreeing with the former guard. "Now let's get out of here. There's not much longer until the next patrol get's here."
Alexi grabbed the case for his new pistols, setting the gold one inside and loading the silver one as he moved, and nodded to the other two. "Let's go,"
The escapees moved stealthily through the palace grounds, once again managing to avoid the various guards that were patroling. Finally they made it to the service exit through which the food was delivered from the city daily. Rose opened the door, holding it open for the other two and gesturing for them to go first.
Leon paused at the door, his heart pounding in his chest, before he turned back to look toward the compound once more. "I've been dreaming of leaving this place for ten years..." He said, so quiet that only Rose could hear it. "But this isn't how I expected to be leaving."
"Oh? What were you hoping for?" The pirate woman asked, just as quietly.
"Saint Corbaz's head on a pike." He said before turning on his heel and stepping out and into the outside world.
Alexi was already waiting for him outside, a strange smile on his face. "Well I'll tell you what," Rose said with a chuckle as she quietly pulled the door closed. "When we find my Ol'man, we'll get the whole crew together, come back here and have ourselves a good old fashioned rape, pillage and burn. Sound good?"
Leon's smile was murderous, but it was the most alive that either of them had ever seen him. "I knew there was a reason why I helped you."
As they turned to make their way towards the city, the high pitched shriek of the compound's alarm Den-Den mushis ripped across the night, and dozens of lights turned on.
"Shit. RUN!" Rose shouted, taking off at a sprint, Alexi close on her heels.
Leon took one step, and then felt power flood into his legs. So much so that his next step literally cracked the ground as he hurtled forward. With a surge of effort, he stooped and heaved both of his fellow escapees off the ground, and with both shocked passengers held on his shoulders, he practically flew into the darkness.
"What the hell Leon?!" Alexi managed as he struggled not to drop any of his stolen treasure. "Warn us next time! And when the hell did you get strong enough to carry us!?"
"It must be that Devil Fruit..." Rose pondered, looking for all the world like some kind of noble princess riding a palanquin. "That's my bet, there's no other explanation. I don't care how good of an actor you are, there's no way that a slave would be able to hide this kind of strength for ten years."
"I think you're right." Leon said, focusing on each footfall. "I can promise you that this morning, I wouldn't have been able to lift even one of you guys. I think I like this Devil Fruit thing."
"I'm still honestly wrapping my head around the fact that you can talk." Alexi chuckled, turning his gaze back toward the compound, "I mean come on, you and I have known each other... how long?"
"Pretty sure you started working for Corbaz four years ago. Which, by the way, I still hate you for." Alexi felt the color drain from his face at the tone Leon's voice took on, "Every day, you and your fellow guards made our lives a living hell. Regardless of how good a man you may be Alexi, there are some things that you cannot atone for."
Alexi sighed heavily. "I know." He said, feeling Leon's shoulder tense at his response, "I've done some things that I know that I won't ever be forgiven for. Hell, I don't want to be forgiven for them. But that's my burden to bear. Only thing that I can do now is find out if I can somehow make the world a better place to try and balance out all of the horrible things I've done."
Rose was notably silent as the two men spoke, and Leon didn't say anything for several long seconds. "I suppose that will have to do." He said quietly and pushed another burst of power into his legs, kicking even harder against the ground, and hurling himself and his new companions towards the city, and the future.
Part one of a little side story I came up with. Not sure how far I'll end up taking this one, but I figured it was worth it to at least get some kind of writing done. Part two will be going into exactly what kind of Devil Fruit mister Leon ate, as well as Rose's crew.
So, that's all for now. Let me know what you guys think, leave me some reviews, they are how I get better, and as always, keep on rockin' on.