I was a small child, and with a little effort I was small enough to squeeze through the bars of my cell and into Puerco's.
I was somewhere I was not supposed to be, I should have been scared. But surviving the fall had changed me -I was not afraid in the slightest. I gripped the knife in my hand and watched the Puerco's gut rise and fall as he snored. I thought of the man from my dream, the physical and mental powerhouse who claimed that I was destined to become him. Was it some divine sign from God? Or had the fall damaged me somehow, made me delusional and mad? I was changed certainly. I could feel it.
Since waking up in Ruger's infirmary, I felt the fires of determination being stoked withing me. I would become that man. It knew it would not be easy. After all, if it being the strongest, the best was easy, everyone would have done it already. Only the few may rule the many. Only the few had the drive inside their hearts to better themselves, to grow stronger and learn something every day. Only a minority of men have the passion to strive for something beyond meritocracy. Meritocracy is good enough for most men, but it was not good enough for me.
I was told in my dream that I had to conquer fear. I had to face Puerco. Face him, or be bullied by him forever -forced into a life of servitude for this lecherous man.
I felt anger swell inside me. It was his fault I'd fallen. I could have died!
"Are you sleeping?" I called out to him.
"Que?" he muttered in response. Then his eyes opened and he saw me standing before him. I sat up and rubbed his eyes. "Child? I thought you had died.." his words were slow and confused, his fatigue still evident.
"The child is dead, Peurco." I responded. "But I am here. Do you still want me to work for you?" I stepped forward, a shaft of light from the moon beaming down into the cell. It was then that Peurco must have seen the knife. His twisted grin turned to a look of fear. I lunged forward.
Peurco reached up to shove me back, but he was too slow. By the time his hand slammed into my chest to shove me back, I'd already buried the knife into his fat gut. With my other hand, I'd already grasped hold of his gold chain, the chain that ran from his nose ring to his earlobe. When he shoved me back, the chain came with me.
He screamed in agony as the chain tore through his nose and ear. I grinned as the golden trophy dangled in my small hand. He raised both hands feeling at his nose, his ear. He needed to confirm what he already knew, that a child had just ripped the jewellery from his face. He was so shocked by my antics with his chain, that he must have already forgotten about the knife I'd rammed into his stomach. While both his hands were clasping his face, I darted forward and stabbed at him with the knife again and again.
I had no idea there was so much blood inside a human body. His bedsheets were soaked scarlet and the blood just kept coming. Without even thinking I kept stabbing, only slowing to avoid his fists as he swung back in futile defiance. He flopped from the bed onto the floor, spraying warm blood on my face as he did so. Now I worked the knife into his back. Each breath sprayed more blood from his mouth, from his chest. I kept stabbing for quite a while after he stopped moving.
Eventually, fatigue set in and I could swing the knife no more. I saw lights down the hall and heard footsteps. Puerco's screams must have alerted the guards. I dropped the knife. Naively, I squeezed back through the bars to my own cell, in some futile effort to deny what I had just done, but I felt a trail of bloody footprints behind. I was undone by Puerco's blood on my face and soaked into my small prison jumpsuit. It did not take much detective work to identify me as the killer.
The warden himself was woken and summoned to my cell. "It was the boy!" said the warden as he nodded in agreement to the guard's assessment. "By God, he has turned feral!"
I could say nothing in response. What would be the use of denying it now?
"I will not have such abominations in my prison," the warden continued as he pointed an accusing finger at me. "He is a bane to everything holy!"
I smiled. I liked the sound of that word. Bane. One syllable that sounded so powerful. Very well. From now on, that will be my name.
"The weapon..." one of the guards began as he held up the knife, "it is covered in blood, as the boy is."
They tried to cuff my, but the chains hung loose around my tiny hands. "The chains are to big..." another guard stated.
The warded glared at me. He knew he needed to assert some authority over this situation. But I was already serving a life sentence, he could not extend my time in this prison any further. He needed to punish me somehow. "Throw him in the Cavidad Oscuro," he finally said. "The chains will fit snug before he sees the light of the sun again."
"I spoke with my mother last night," I shot back at him. "She says they stoke a special fire for you."
"Throw him in the hole!" the warden screamed back at me, enraged by my insolence. "He will have hair on his chest before I release him!"
With the chains hanging loosely around my wrists, I was marched down the hall past the other prisoners before reaching the stairs. This time there were no taunts, no hands grabbing out at me. I saw a few nods of respect. We passed the behemoth Trogg, the man who tried to protect me from Puerco earlier. He shot me a grin as he nodded.
I was taken down, past all the cells, past the mess hall, past the administration office. I was marched through a cellar where I saw the biggest rats I'd ever seen. One of them scurried over a guards shoe, fearless. I snickered as the guard recoiled. Finally we reached a narrow corridor that led to a heavy iron door.
It was explained to me that I would be spending the next decade of my life in the small room that lay beyond the door. I would not see another soul for this entire time. Many men had grown mad from the isolation or died in this room. I was told that twice a day, a small latch would reveal an opening and a tray of food and water would be passed through. I was informed that the food would be minimal, and that I should get used to being hungry. I was told that dogs would eat better than I would. I was informed that after my meals arrive, I would have one hour to return the empty tray to the latch to be collected. On the day that I failed to return the tray, I would be assumed dead, and no more food or water would come thereafter. If that happened, they would not open the heavy door until they need the Cavidad Oscuro again -which may not be for a hundred years. I was warned that there might be water leakage, as I was going to be living below sea level, but that the water was nothing to concern myself with, as there was a grate on the floor for it to drain into. It was recommended that I defecate into the grate, if I did not wish to live with ten years of my own waste.
With that, the heavy door was unlocked and I was shoved into the room.
