Day Twenty-One; Continued.
Behind corroded decaying bars, the disturbing pungent redolence of death infesting the only source of oxygen loitering about, her back rested, slumped, against a grimy brick wall, the farthest away from the cells opening as possible and pressed into a tight spaced corner. Her knees were drawn to her chest as if they were to protect her, yet at the same time, also hiding her handcuffed wrists, in which the metal was digging into and causing them to profusely bleed and sting, staining her gray floral shirt with the large red bow, and the skin on her legs that were not covered by the fabric of her black short shorts. The flooring was stone and uncomfortable and the only source of light was the small torch hanging idly upon one of the walls across from her cell, but other than that, she might as well have been completely blind.
Cat's entire body was trembling from her head to her toes, partially out of fright and because wherever she was, it was by no means warm. The rotting stench one could not wash off no matter how many times one might try, was arctic and frigid and the walls made of brick seemed to be soaking the cold in, savoring it and inanimately laughing as she froze. That torch, she decided long ago, was not doing any justice. And to make matters worse, despite her bleeding cuffed wrists, she had no idea where she was – all she had known is that when she was ambushed in the woods, the barrel of the gun had knocked her cleanly unconscious and she woke up here just hours before, with an unconscious Beck in the cell beside her, sprawled across the floor with blood slowly cascading down the side of his face; she hadn't even known he had been caught, or rather kidnapped, if it wasn't for that fact that he was right there beside her. She had felt so far away from him that she felt as if she was alone.
The room beyond the two prison cells was a sight one may see in an abandoned warehouse; with items sprawled across the cement floor, shattered bottles and the pegs of a single table broken from its host. There were rocks as well, large, unmoving segments of grit broadcast about the room, as if they had been chiseled from large, gray pillars – or even, she contemplated as her dark brown eyes flickered upward, from the dismantled ceiling. But within her cell was a perception much more eerie, and she had shied her way into this corner to get away from it. She couldn't tell if there was a coffin in Beck's as well, but there was most certainly one in hers, made of cracked stone with faded, engraved words on the top.
With slightly chattering teeth, Cat leaned her head against the sullied wall to her right, pressing her entire body weight, which admittedly, was not much, against it as she drew her legs closer to her. The fetal position, especially with handcuffed arms, was by no means comfortable, and she was afraid that if she had stood, her numb limbs would give way and cramp up, something she did not deal kindly with. She hadn't known how long she was sitting there for, just sitting, but it had felt as if it had been a clear day since she had woken up – even though it might have only been a couple hours since she actually did – and all she wanted to was for Beck to wake up, so she could profusely apologize for getting him into this mess. You see, she was ridden with guilt, as she rightfully should have been. If she hadn't chased that figure of Mouse in the woods, they wouldn't be in this situation whatsoever.
But they were. And she needed a hug.
Finally, after what seemed like waiting for hours on end in the degraded confinement, as still as death itself (maybe even possibly as still as the body within the coffin on the other side of her dungeon cell), the tan complexioned boy in the reformatory next to hers awoke. He, groggy and clueless, slowly hoisted his sprawled body into a sitting position upon the solid stone platform, thick eyebrows furrowed and eyes narrowed down to slits as he rubbed the back of his throbbing skull. Cat lifted her head from the wall and turned it to the side to watch him as he stood on wobbly legs, guising bewildered and confused; doe brown eyes observing him as he glanced around his surroundings, in a haze.
"Jade?" His rasped voice called into the silence, bouncing from the black bricked walls in echoes of two, ricocheting from his cell to hers. She chewed on her chapping bottom lip, front teeth digging into the tender pink flesh and drawing a single droplet of blood.
"No, it's Cat" She answered him softly, her voice barely fairing higher than a whisper, though she was very well aware that in the small, confined space that they were in, he could hear her just as fine as a pin dropping on the floor.
"Where are we?" Beck asked her, enclosing tan fists around the degrading bars, shaking them slightly as if hoping that when he had done so, they would break down, and he would be free. "Did she get caught too? What happened to us?"
"She didn't…and I-I don't know what happened, I don't remember." Bringing her hands to her face, she wiped a finger across her bottom eyelid, as if that would hold the tears from falling. It was to no eminence however, as when she had brought her cuffed hands away, salty droplets of water cascading slowly down her cheeks, mingling with mascara and eyeliner she had applied the day beforehand.
"Are you okay then? Are you hurt?" He questioned, orange light blazing over his face frequently from the torch; he looked empathetic with his brows eroded and his lips tugged downward in a frown.
Cat, finding it better than putting it in words, held up her arms to expose the handcuffs penetrating the burning skin across her wrists, stained with clotting and fresh blood that made her want to vomit across the floor, or even pass out – she was, evidently, never good with gory things, even if she had reduced to cutting herself so many years before. That was always Jade's forte, blood at least, and after all, she was no Jade. When she saw Beck's body turn rigid at the sight she hastily put her arms back into her lap, wincing at the prompt movement and turning her head away with a whisper. "Your head is bleeding."
"You're right…" He murmured, taking his own hand and covering the pulsing wound upon the left side of his forehead, "but I'll deal."
"I'm so, so sorry Beck." She said, keeping her eyes downcast at all costs, as if looking back over at the injured boy was going to cause an flurry of horrible, guilt vitiated emotions to give way, and she hadn't wanted to cry again after she had just managed to dry her eyes. The odds were against her when her voice noticeably cracked toward the end of her sentence, but she had covered herself by clearing her throat rather loudly.
"There's nothing to apologize for, kiddo. I'm just glad we're not dead." Beck said softly, and she had missed the forgiving smile he had given her.
"Ah, well, well. Looks like my two new guests are finally awake." A voice suddenly interrupted, and Cat's head snapped up so quickly that it could have broken if she did it any quicker. She and Beck were so engaged in conversation that they hadn't realized another man had joined them, his embodiment just an obscurity and his face hidden from view. He had another man with him, one who looked burly, with muscular biceps bigger than her head and a large torso and instinctively, she covered herself up, fixing idly at her short shorts the best she could with the handcuffs limiting her arm movements.
"What do you want from us?" Beck snapped at the man who had spoken, his voice a raspy growl. "Who are you?"
"My name is no concern of yours, Beckett. But what I want from you, is rather simple." The skinnier man said, taking a step forward, and still, his face was nothing but an adumbration. "What I ask from you, Beckett, is different from what I ask from Ms. Caterina," He pointed a finger toward her, and she attempted to cringer further into her corner.
"Don't touch her" He threatened, pushing himself against the rusting bars that held him back from attacking the scrawny man, fists enclosed around them once again.
"You are really in no position to be making threats, need I remind you, you're the one behind the bars." He laughed comically and sinisterly, shifting his blank gaze toward Cat. "I may do as I please but it's nothing that you think, Mr. Oliver. You're rather defensive for your friend, very admirable."
"H-how do you know our names?" Cat squeaked, voice the farthest thing from sounding brave as she cowered in her corner, shivers uncontrollably racking her small body, and this time, simply out of fear and fear alone.
"Again, nothing of your concern. As I was saying…" He turned away from her, his breathing heavy and wheezy. "You see, I had just recently discovered that a machine of mine had broken, a very vital machine indeed. And the moment I was aware, the moment I had found out, a mechanic fell from the sky. You, Beckett, you are going to help me fix it, which is exactly why I brought you here."
"…So you're saying you basically kidnapped us because you wanted a machine to be fixed?" Beck repeated slowly, voice seething and irritable. "Why'd you lock us up then? Answer me that."
"Oh no, it's not just for fixing the machine. We need workers, see, to keep things intact. You can call it a more modern version of slavery, perhaps. We couldn't have you escaping, now could we?" Lanky said gleefully, adjusting his shirt collar.
"Slaves?" She gasped, unable to believe what she was hearing. Was this all just a horrible, screwed up dream?
"Indeed. Thomas, go on." He said, waving his hand at the burly man beside him. He began to step toward her prison cell with keys dangling in his hands, ringing and clicking against each other as he hobbled over. Cat pressed herself further against the wall as if it was some sort of protection, unsure of what he was doing and she didn't like it. As the cage door creaked open, Beck shouting at him to get away from her, the man named Thomas leered at her and grabbed her by the upper arm, heaving her up unsteadily upon her sneakers, his grip strong enough to leave a bruise.
"Come on then pretty," He growled in her ear, his disturbingly malodorous breath warm and hot against her neck, "time for work."
So there you have it, you found out what happened to them! Well, it's not over (obviously: P) for them, so stay tuned! I changed the preview for the chapter in the one before this, which is why what happened with Jade and Brent wasn't mentioned like…at all in this one. I kind of wanted to get this up so you guys could read it, hehe.
As always, I hope you enjoyed it and don't forget to review! (: