Oh hey, a Kira chapter! Hahaha, for all those wondering, we aren't far enough in the story to know all the secrets and juicy stuffs. But believe me, after this chapter, the "essence" of the story really begins.

Anthracite77: Haha, j'ai bien pensée que ça te surprenderais! J'espère que tu as aimé!

Sickmonkey89: I'm really glad you like Bo, she's kind of my little pride at the moment. There's so much more to her and I can't wait for you to know it! Thanks for the review!

Xeres Malfoy: Je suis ravie que la relation entre Bo et Vaas te plait! Et le rôle de Kira sera révélé plus tard, et j'ai si hâte que vous soyez au courant. L'histoire que j'ai pour vous sera trop top! Merci du feed back!

Chapter 5: Silent Insanity

I was never afraid of the dark. As a child, I could go to bed without any night lamp and not feel the bloodcurdling fear my brother did. It was like I had a superpower; a deranged form of childish pride that told me I was superior to my brother because he wet his bed every night implying a monster was in the closet. Not that I was a deranged child, but I had my moments when my brother seemed to steal the show with his impressive sport accomplishments and I was just standing in the bleachers. If I could shine brighter than my sibling, trust me, I'd take the opportunity.

Yet, here on this island, night became a time that I dreaded to face. It crept up on me, like it was curling its rigid, black fingers around my eyes and clawing them into black void. I felt pursued by the darkness with the way the sun disappeared beyond the trees and left behind a terrorizing and approaching dusk. I felt imprisoned even more by the darkness and the blank state the world before my eyes took. It's like, even despite the bamboo cage I was in, the night found a way to make my captivity even more omnipresent. It's like the whispers of wind and the noises of wild life mocked me in their freedom. The rigorous beating of my heart never ceased to remind me of the place I was in, the danger I was facing, the ignorance I bathed in. My fear bled into some sort of insanity that doubled over during the night.

And do not kid yourself in thinking I felt safe when the sun rose on the horizon. This island was danger floating in the middle of the ocean. Sunrise was the rise of the devils and the demons roaming the paths, the gun shots living in the air, and the constant yells that seemed to echo infinitely. My brain was soaked with adrenaline, my mouth constantly clenched, and my legs ready to pounce. The dirt lived on my skin like fear lived in my eyes. The perpetual trembling of my body became a habit, and I even forgot what it was like not to tremble.

Nonetheless, I had one thing that kept me going day after day. Peter.

I had been impressed that his wound had been well cleaned and bandaged. Despite the lack of antibiotics, Peter was healing and recovering. He wasn't so pale and sick-looking anymore. He slept less and by the way he moved around in the cage, he was readying his body for something. And if that something was escape, he was far more insane that I was.

Kate and Nova had been locked in with us, but the absence of Sara was what kept us all on edge. Her disappearance was unnerving and rose many questions. Was she dead? Yet our questions remained unanswered for the red tank tops would never as much as utter a word to us. Additionally, the mysterious Bo character wouldn't even glance at us or answer our pleas. It was like we didn't exist, like we were decoration living in numb bodies with loud and conscious minds.

There was a morning when I was the only one awake. My eyes were red and itchy from crying and pleading the dark for pity. My body lay in the cool dirt, my hands clutching the earth. My corpse demanded sleep, but I refused. The nightmares, the screams; they'd all come back.

"Kira Adams?" My name being called out was not even a stimulant to lift me up. The cage had to be unlocked, black boots had to march up to my eyes, and a harsh slap had to be aimed at my face.

"Kira Adams, right?" I looked up, the sun blinding me. The harsh rays made fresh tears sprout in my eyes. I didn't trust my voice, so I nodded. "Get up, come with me." I groaned, using my weak hands to support the upper half of my body. However I was too weak, the lack of sleep affecting my body. A rough hand gripped my bicep, and through the blinding rays of the sun, I caught the sight of Bo.

She half dragged, half walked me out of my cage, using my weak and bruised arm as a rope. I felt withered and tampered with, like my lack of sleep had made my body feel beaten and violated. My bones ached and every time I tried to take a step, I could feel my spinal bones creak against each other, like the cushions that were supposed to be between them had vanished.

Bo wasn't gentle either. She dragged me across the dirt path, ignoring the faint cries of Peter. When I could look at her, I saw cornrows were braided on the left side of her hair and the other side was wavy, cascading down her back in a lush midnight wave. Her eyes were covered with her sunglasses, and she wore a black tank top and army trousers.

I was startled by the sound of village life; battering, chatting, chuckling and loud motors. My eyes struggled to stay open, beating against the heaviness of sleep and the harsh light of the sun. If only I could have walked correctly, without my body wavering and affecting my vision, I could have seen what was around me. Yet the island never ceased to let my ears be my guide. Screams of horrific octaves reached my eardrums and filled my meddled brain. I winced, feeling my shoulders sag as Bo was merciless in the way she carried me. I could hear pleas and cries of desperate humans, voices suffused to the brink with fear and devastation. It shattered me from the inside even more and I hated Bo for bringing me to that place, to the places where the screams were louder. I wanted to go back to my cage. At least there the screams were faint and I could mistake them for being figments of my imagination. However in this place, where the dirt ground felt like dried blood under my shoes, those screams could not be mistaken for dreams. They were reality, and the reality of this place, this hell hole, devastated me.

The soles of my feet found wooden floorboards and the sound of bustling pirate life was muffled by the shadows of cement walls. In the refreshing shadows, my eyes could finally creak open and glimpse at the concrete walls and wooden floor. I was in some kind of living quarter, big enough to bed two or three people. Bo dragged me in front of two beds, an open door that led to a bathroom and then, when she stopped, she plopped my body down on something that felt very much like carpet.

My trembling fingers curled in the fabric and I stared at the embedding, my eyes trying to focus on the colorful patterns in front of them. "What's this?" The sound of a prominent male voice trickled up to my ears as booted feet skidded the wooden floor. I bit my lip, my eyes watering as the boots approached me. All I could see was the fucking carpet.

"I have more merchandise coming in today," Bo answered the mysterious voice, "and I needed more place in my cages so I brought you her."

I fell on my forearms, the weight of my body being too much to bear. The trembling of my body reverberated on the wood under the carpet and I swear I heard the dust complain, but I was going nuts.

"I'm a babysitter now?"

I almost laughed.

"No." I swear, when Bo growls, it sounds very much like a bear. "You don't need to comfort her or the such. Just keep her alive until she's been bought."

I shivered despite the scorching heat. In the past three days, I heard the word "sold" more than I heard my own heartbeat.

"I can't watch over her, Bo!" His voice was loud and if I could have talked, I would have told him to shut it. "I'm not always here!"

"Tie her up you bloody twat," was the quite hilarious response of Bo. "Lock your door and you'll be sure that she won't act out."

There was a moment of utter silence where I thought the world had sunk into oblivion. The silence was so heavy and taunting that it influenced the little vision I had into some sort of coma-like state. Yet, when I thought I had really dreamed it all, the voice of that man came back.

"Alright," it said hesitantly. "How long will she be here?"

"I haven't the slightest idea, Hunter."

I grimaced. What kind of name was that for a pirate? Talk about humor on all kinds of levels.

"It better not be long," the said Hunter replied through what appeared to be clenched teeth.

A sigh echoed above me and the sound of boots retreated. I was left to the silence and the mystery man; Hunter. I didn't even know if he was there anymore, for the silence and tugging darkness blended his presence in my mind with all the other noises only I could hear. I thought a minute or two passed, but it appeared to be more for when I reopened my eyes, I was staring out a window where the sun had almost set. However, the silence and the lack of screams was so inviting that I couldn't tame the wild hunger to sleep, and so I let my mind wander to the imaginative corners it reserved only for my closed lids.

I think I saw my brother in my dreams, but my dreams had altered since I arrived on the island. Outside of my dreams, I think I felt a needle push through my flesh and release intoxicating liquid into my veins. I thanked whoever drugged me for the trembling ceased and my bones felt appealingly still for once.

What woke me up was the terrifying feeling of a mattress under me.

I sat up abruptly, feeling resistance against my right wrist. When my eyes found the glistening handcuffs linking me to the bed post, I gasped. I was suddenly alert, all my senses suffused to the brink, my tendrils blaring. I scanned the room I was in; concrete walls, a bed facing mine and a one beside, a closed door to my right and two tables with papers peppered onto them in the center. A window left of me caught my attention, the dusty glow to the air leading me to think the sun was about to rise. When I looked down at the scrawny bed sheets sprawled over my legs, I noticed the strange and itchy material they were made of. The green color suggested army provided.

A noise from the closed door made my head jerk to it. Meanwhile, I noticed the colorful patterned carpet sitting in the middle of the room, something strangely familiar to it. I frowned, trying to keep my breathing steady and the fear influxes manageable. The door opened with a squeaking, ear piercing sound and a dark figure walked out, almost hesitantly. I winced when he turned and, by the way his facial structure was formed, figured he was American.

He wore a black t-shirt that was tight enough to show that he was not to be messed with. What appeared to be dog tags were slung from his neck and dove into the collar of his tee. Black trousers adorned his long legs and a belt armed with various arsenal such as a pistol, two knives and a baton was tied around his hips. Black track boots were loosely tied to his feet and I noticed another knife attached to his right ankle. His annoyed grunt made my eyes snap up to him, where the glinting brown of his eyes shone straight through me. His hair, cut short and messily taken care of, appeared to be recently washed; sticking up in all places and wet at the tips. A stubble of a beard, like he hadn't shaven in a couple days, embellished his chin and jaw line. He was tall, roughly reaching the six foot, with cut out jaw muscles and a torso that couldn't be run down by a train. Tattoos garnished his forearms and disappeared under the sleeve of his tee, leaving more to the curiosity of the eye. His eyes found mine and the look of smugness suggested annoyance and disgust.

"Peter," I croaked, the effort making my throat ache. I needed water. The guy frowned.

"What?" he asked, crossing to the table farthest from me.

"My brother," I croaked again, the aching in my throat being too much for me to speak more.

"Whatever," he waved me off with his large hand, turning his back to me.

"Where is my brother?" I demanded more clearly, breathing in hard. The guy, Hunter I presumed, turned his face to the side.

"I don't know," he answered in a grunt. I sighed desperately.

Did they put me in here so they could kill my brother? I shook my head violently. Tears sprouted in my eyes and doubled over onto my cheeks, blurring my vision. Were they torturing him now? I sobbed, curling into myself, my knees propped against my chest. Was he suffering, pleading for me to help him? The tears fell, hot and heavy, and dropped onto the itchy sheets. I pulled at my handcuffs, feeling the metal bite sourly into my flesh. They weren't allowed to hurt him. They had already shot him for fucking sake!

My crying turned to anger and the boiling tears fell even harder as I pulled with all my might against my handcuffs. Groans fell from my lips ferociously as I used my left hand to try and pry the damn metal from my wrist. "Peter." His name fell from my lips multiple times as I found myself kneeling in the bed, my arms pulling at the metal. I needed to find Peter, to tell him it was all going to be alright. I growled against the metal, my tears blinding me completely.

"Hey!" The angered shout of my captor didn't deter me as I continued to vehemently pull the handcuffs off. "The fuck are you trying to do!?" I felt rough and large hands on my shoulders, pushing me into the bed.

"Let me go!"

I kicked and punched despite my deterred vision. Hunter held me down, using his impressive weight to crush me. He fumbled with something in his pocket and came out with a glistening object. I struggled against him.

I needed to find Peter.

Coolness was pressed against the softness in the crease of my elbow, pressed so hard it turned into pinching. "Stop it," I growled, twitching my arm desperately, but Hunter held it steady with only one of his hands. I felt the needle pierce the small barrier of skin, felt the oozing drug fill my veins. It was thick and I felt like I was getting a vaccine.

My body was almost instantly numb, heavy and drowsy. My tear-filled eyes saw nothing but shadows and figures, all melting and merging into one big blob of color. The warmth that was Hunter's hand on my arm left, and so did the shadow that was his body. What followed his departure was the sound of chains and silence.

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