Hannibal had not seen the insides of the alternative classrooms before. He had only been a prisoner of Valparaiso long enough to hate it, not long enough to cause too much trouble. That is, until now.
Other than a red cheek and a headache from being dragged by his hair, Hannibal was unharmed. Mr. Barlow had left a few minutes ago to fetch the headmaster. Hannibal took this opportunity to blink, yawn, look around, stretch his shoulders, anything he could think to help him relax. Hard to be a convincing liar when your all tense. He thought briefly about ambushing them when they returned and racing back to Jed and Henry, but logic quickly took over and reminded him that freedom was a lot farther away. A glance around the room showed that he would not do well to try to fight back at all; the pale walls were bare: no pictures, no, windows, no shelves, nothing. There was a chair in the corner of the room and a single candle flickering by the door, but otherwise, the room was baron.
Hannibal thought he heard footsteps creeping closer. He placed himself at the far end of the room with his back against the wall, watching the handle turn slowly. When it had turned a full revolution, the door flew open, hitting the wall with a bang. The headmaster filled the doorway with his stocky shoulders. He stomped inside, with crooked Mr. Barlow hovering behind him with a candle. When the schoolmaster got to the center of the room, Mr. Barlow scooted the chair to him and he sat down with a huff.
"What's your name?" Headmaster spat, glaring down at Hannibal with beady black eyes.
Hannibal felt quite scared, but his face was calm as a summer's breeze. "My name is Hannibal Heyes, Sir."
The headmaster seemed annoyed at the boy's lack of fear. He leaned closer. "And why were you out of your cot, Mr. Heyes?"
Forcing his voice calm, he stared down the headmaster. "I had a bad dream and decided to go for a walk."
"Liar!" Headmaster roared. Mr. Barlow jumped forward and struck Hannibal across the face with the back of his hand. The force of the hit knocked Hannibal to the old, wood floor.
After taking a second to move his jaw, Hannibal sat back up, keeping his eyes level.
"Now I will ask you again." Headmaster was so angry, his jowls shook. "What were you doing outside your cot?"
"I told you, I needed some fresh air." Mr. Barlow did not hesitate to backhand Hannibal again. He stared at the floor for just a moment, gasping. He had not expected the slap so soon, and he had bitten his tongue on the way down. He sat up slower that time. "Alright." He panted, his head low, but his eyes still fierce. "I was trying to break in to the kitchen."
Mr. Barlow reared back to smack him again, but the headmaster stopped him. "And why were you stealing food?" he sneered.
"Because I'm starving." He said plainly.
Headmaster leaned back in his chair, interlocking his fingers over his large abdomen. "Stealing, Mr. Heyes, is a sin."
Hannibal lifted an eyebrow at the round man. "So is gluttony."
The headmaster sputtered. "You need to learn to respect your elders!" He thundered as he stood. He took a handkerchief from his pocket, wiping either side of his mouth as he stomped to the door. "Mr. Barlow, kindly explain to this young gentleman the importance of honoring his superiors." He turned to Hannibal. "When I return, I'll be expecting an apology, young man."
As the door closed, Hannibal looked up a Mr. Barlow. Those yellowed eyes always gave him a sick feeling. He tried to keep his face straight, but as the man leaned in, Hannibal recoiled from the stench of his breath.
"Now, you're going to learn some manners, boy." Another backhand. If Hannibal's mind was not spinning, he may have made a comment about that, but as it was, he spit blood on the flooring. A swift kick to the gut, and Hannibal wondered if he were going to vomit. He knew better than to fight back; Mr. Barlow needed no excuse use that gun on his belt. Mr. Barlow grasped a handful of Hannibal's brown hair and used it to drag him to his feet. "I hope you understand how lucky you are." He grinned. "A lot of boys don't get the discipline they need." He dropped Hannibal back to the floor. "I'll let you think on that for a while." He delivered another kick, this time to Hannibal's diaphragm. Hannibal gasped for air. "I'll be back later, boy. You talk real nice to Mr. Maxwell, and he may actually let you eat today." He snickered as he blew out the candle, leaving Hannibal alone in the inky blackness of the room.
His breathing gradually returned to normal, but his face throbbed and all he could smell was blood. Despite himself, he smiled. They had believed him. Jed and Henry were safe. It seemed like a fine trade-off. When the headmaster let him out, they would try the escape again. "This is just a minor setback." He told himself, but as the day wore on, he became less certain. The room remained dark even well into the day. Hannibal sat close to the wall, reminding himself that there was still hope. Though, he was having trouble remembering what that hope was.
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Authors Note: Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far, but especially to the guest who commented on my spelling error of "Heyes". To my knowledge, it has been fixed. Be sure to let me know if there are any other oddities. Thanks!
