The days began to blur.
There was no light, outside of the ever-burning torches by his cell, to tell Will what time it was. There was no set time Will's food was brought, either. And Will wasn't fool enough to ask the Tem'uj about it. First because he could lie; second because asking could send him off on another round of questions that were painful just to hear: "You know that they haven't forgiven you, don't you?" and "You know they're glad to be rid of you."
Will knew he had to get out of there. The Tem'uj couldn't hurt him much physically, but mentally, there were no bounds. He found sadistic joy in exposing all the things Will had tried his hardest to suppress for years: his mother's death, his adoptive father's abandonment, his foster father's alcoholism...the list ran on and on, and those were the things which bothered him the least. The things he would only occasionally think about late at night: why did she die and leave me alone? Why did he abandon me?
Already the Tem'uj was turning his mind against the Rangers. Will had sworn to himself he would never betray them or anyone ever again. But couldn't betrayal mean more than just killing them or giving over information? Couldn't it also mean resenting them, cursing them, hating them?
Because he was far closer to that than he had ever wanted to be, and he couldn't make it stop.
Every time the Tem'uj asked Will why they had abandoned him, every time he asked why they hadn't forgiven him, every time he asked why they hated him...Will felt a surge of vitriol flood his chest. Even as he denied everything the Tem'uj said, he couldn't deny the resentment he felt deep down. He had to get out of there before it was too late. Before he became everything he'd sworn he would never be again.
So he began to plan. But as he did so, a question that had become achingly familiar rose to mind: what would Halt do?
He hadn't wanted to think of that question at first, because surely it shouldn't matter. Halt would rescue him; Will wouldn't have to do anything. Then, as the days had passed by and the Tem'uj had slowly poisoned Will's mind, the name Halt had hurt to think. It still did. But no matter Will's feelings towards him, his (former?) master was a skilled and pragmatic strategist and everything he would say was a good idea.
Will closed his eyes and thought. He imagined Halt - eyes disapproving, voice blank, because that was the only way Will saw him now - looking at him. What would he say? What would he do if he were in that situation?
"First," he imagined Halt saying, "You need to move without restraint. You can't run and you certainly can't fight without full use of your limbs."
Will's captor had taken his wrist shackles off permanently, which solved half the problem. The heavy chains around Will's legs prevented him from doing more than a slow, labored walk. It was possible, he thought, to trick the monster into cutting the chains off of him, but that would be dangerous. It might also be his only option.
"Next," came Halt's voice, "the lock on the cell door. What would I do about that?"
Pick it, probably. Gilan had taught Will that skill during Halt's absence. Will had already noticed that the door to the rest of the building was unlocked; if he could get his cell door unlocked, he'd be free. The utensils he was given at meal-times might do if he couldn't find anything else. He'd just have to secret them away when his captor wasn't looking.
But Will didn't need Halt to tell him what his biggest problem was, and he didn't think Halt could help him fix it. Will didn't have his powers. He had no idea how they were sealed away or how to get them back. He thought - although Halt's probable disagreement made him wince - that, if he had a decent weapon, no leg shackles, and an idea of the layout of the building and number of monsters there, he might stand a chance of escaping. Might. But Will had none of those things. Without his powers, his best chance of escaping was taking his utensils and stabbing himself with them.
Unless, for his betrayal of the Corps, the judges of the Underworld sentenced him to the Fields of Punishment.
Will shuddered.
He needed at least an idea of the amount of Temujai in the building, and he needed an idea of how large it was. And he needed to figure out how the Temujai were restraining his powers. To do that...
As if in answer to his thoughts, the doorknob turned. Will's gaze snapped to the door. A hurried plan rushed to the forefront of his brain. He had no idea if it'd work, but it was the best he could come up with. He was running out of options. He needed information and this was the only way to get it.
The Tem'uj stepped in. Will had never learned his name, or if he even had one. Or if, in fact, he was a he, not an it. How much of the man he had once been was still there?
He carried a tray in one hand, filled with the food Will had become accustomed to seeing on there. He unlocked the cell door with his free clawed, distorted hand and walked into the cell. He placed the tray on the floor and then approached Will.
Will eyed him with an anger that was still unabated from exhaustion. The Tem'uj's continual interrogations were shredding his soul, but he'd be damned if he let that show.
"How are you today, Will?" the monster asked cheerfully, looking down on him from his far-superior height. He smirked at the boy. Will got the sinking feeling his acting wasn't as good as he'd hoped.
Will spat at him.
"That good?" A laugh; then a fist hit him, hard. "Any worse now?"
Will hid a wince, blinking to try and orient himself. He was far more dizzy than he should've been. The Tem'uj's short temper was well-known enough to Will that the blow hadn't been a surprise, but still it had hurt.
"No."
"Really?" The Tem'uj gave a cold laugh. Will got the sudden feeling he wouldn't like what came next. "That sounded about as convincing as you do when you tell me Halt still cares about his worthless apprentice."
A jolt went through Will's heart. He grit his teeth and said nothing.
"What, you aren't going to stand up for yourself? Tell me how wrong I am?"
"You're wrong," Will said. "You're a lying-"
He smashed against the wall. Will lifted his head and growled at the monster for good measure.
"You're remarkably determined for someone with no chance of escape," the Tem'uj scoffed.
Will took a breath. Time to put his plan into action. He put on his best arrogant facade. "No chance? It can't be that hard. There's what, ten of you?"
"Ten? You underestimate us, No-Name. We would not guard such a valuable prisoner with ten. Not even with five times that."
Will's heart sank. There were over fifty Temujai here? Even his most massive attack had only taken out half that, and he'd been incapacitated afterwards. If he fell unconscious again, he'd be leaving himself open for reinforcements to come and lock him back up.
"One against fifty?" Will said confidently. "I can take down that many, easy."
"With what power? You forget that you don't have your godly powers, and you never will again." The monster sneered at him. "At least, not as a human. My lord would be more than happy to have your skills as a loyal Temujai."
Will gave a mocking grin. "And why do you think that? How do you know I haven't already recovered them?"
The monster gave a hideous snort and didn't deign to reply. Instead, he backtracked and picked up the tray of food before shoving it in front of Will.
Will was hungry enough not to care about the abrupt end to the conversation. He didn't eat more than twice a day, and that was being generous - once was much more accurate.
He took the tray and eyed its contents. They were the same as they always were: a piece of bread, some cheese, and some meat or fruit, depending on the day. Although Will's mouth was sometimes so swollen he could hardly eat, or his eye so blackened he could barely see, he couldn't complain about the food he was given. He just wished there was more of it.
He picked up the bread and bit into it. It was a little odd-tasting, probably some kind of rye or oat bread. He'd gotten used to the taste over the time he'd spent in the cell; it was surprisingly good one you got past the oddness.
"Feeling better now?" the Tem'uj asked mockingly after Will was done. "You know what comes next."
Will scowled. After he ate would inevitably come the questions. Questions that made Will doubt his own mind, his own sanity.
"Now, Will," the Tem'uj said patronizingly, approaching him again to take the empty dishes away, "you know why I have to keep doing this. If you'd just give us what we'd want, it'd be so much easier."
"Never," he hissed.
An obsidian jaw clenched. "We don't ask for much. Just tell us where Apollo is - that isn't hard. Or even where King Duncan's daughter is."
"I've told you already, even if I knew the answers to either of those, I'd never tell you. I don't even know who King Duncan is!"
A slap. Will's head turned from the force of it.
"Don't lie," his captor said dangerously. "You know, you simply refuse to tell."
"I don't know," Will insisted. "And I'd never betray it if I did!"
The monster looked as though he would punch Will again, or maybe even take it farther. But then he stopped, and a slow smile crept across his hideous face - if it could even be called a smile. Will only saw blackened fangs curling around black, whorled skin.
"Of course you wouldn't," he said, "you've already betrayed people enough, haven't you?"
The Tem'uj had done this before, too. That didn't mean it didn't hurt. Will glared at him, not trusting his voice.
"Vile, traitorous creature that you are, you think that abstaining from yet another betrayal will somehow atone for all your crimes? You think that will make it right?" The Tem'uj scoffed. "Take it from someone who was sentenced to eternal punishment. You can never make up for what you've done."
Fear clenched Will's heart. That was his worst fear: dying and going to the Fields of Punishment for what he'd done. The idea of suffering forever, inescapably and inexhaustibly.
"You are a traitor and that stain will never leave your rotting flesh. All of my brethren can see it. I can see it. It's a black blot on your soul and it will never leave. You will never atone for what you've done."
"Maybe not," Will weakly, before he could stop himself. "But at least I-I can stop from making it worse."
"Worse? You're already going to hell. What else matters? You will suffer eternally. The amount of suffering matters not." The Tem'uj bared his teeth in a smirk. "You're going to hell, Will, and there's nothing you can do about it!"
He said the last words in sing-song, then descended into mad, chortling laughter.
When Will sat, unable to make a response, the monster leered closer. "What, have nothing to say? What's the point of playing on the good side when they've all abandoned you? You're not even good, anyway! You're just an imposter, a wolf unable to fit in with the sheep. You're one of us, Will!"
"I'll never be one of you!" Will shouted, standing up.
He hit the wall with a thud.
"You already are! And there's nothing you can do to stop it. Your soul is black and vile, and you will never be able to-"
Will scrambled up, ignoring the throbbing in his head. "Liar! You're a liar and I-"
The creature suddenly had him by the throat. Will struggled violently, kicking him, biting him, but nothing affected the monster.
"Listen closely, No-Name. You were born as a nobody, and that is who you are. You can't escape from it. Nobody wants you, nobody will ever want you. You have no purpose in this world. You are nameless and unknown. You will never make up for what you've done, so you might as well stop trying."
He dropped Will callously on the ground. "The only worthwhile contribution you could ever make would be to tell us what we need. That's the only reason we need you alive - Gaea can always get another half-blood. Even my lord can be reasoned with. So you see, if you don't give us what we want, we might as well just kill you. And you know where you'll go once you're dead."
Will felt sick at the thought. Desperately, he told himself the Tem'uj was bluffing. Hadn't he just told Will that information was only a secondary reason for his capture? He'd just said that not long ago, just days or...
Or...weeks ago, Will thought bleakly. It could have been weeks by now and he'd have had no idea. And still, no one had come. He hadn't heard the faintest sign that anyone was searching for him.
What if...what if the Tem'uj was right? What if there were truly no one out there who cared if he lived or died? What if no one valued him or thought him important enough to live?
His captor must've seen the look on his face, for he sneered. "I'll leave you to think on that. Just remember: there's only one way out of here alive."
Then he gathered up the tray and left, leaving his words ringing in Will's ears.
Will sank lower against the wall he was leaning on and put his head in his hands.
No matter how hard he tried to deny what the Tem'uj told him, he couldn't. The things he told Will were the same things he had learned himself. There was no one who valued him, no one who thought him important enough to save. He had seen that throughout his entire life, even before Ferris, even before the Rangers. When his adoptive dad had given him up, when his foster parents had let him run away without trying to search for him, Will had learned those same things. He wasn't worth keeping. He wasn't worth searching for.
As much as he wished his captor's words were lies, he had experienced too much of the truth in them. If no one was coming for him, and if Will couldn't find a way to escape on his own, maybe-
"No," Will said out loud, trying to convince himself. "No, I can't."
His words sounded hollow. He wished he hadn't spoken them after all.
"I will find a way out," he said, trying to sound strong. "I swear I will."
For a moment the world felt right again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, the promise a balm to his battered spirit. I will get out of here alive and unbroken, the promise said. I will.
Even if, as his eyes moved to the door, he felt his doubts swarming in once more.
A/N: I like to imagine this chapter as a "Me vs My Insecurities - Epic Throwdown" YouTube video. We might still be crying, but at least we'll be laughing through our tears.