The Demon Within (Part 1)

Chapter 2: Out of the Darkness Comes a Light...

Time held no meaning in the dark room. Akira could not tell the difference between day and night in the constant darkness. Hours could be days, and days could be weeks. It didn't matter anyways because her captors showed no signs of releasing any of the children. They only threw in a single loaf a bread after excruciatingly long increments of time.

It wasn't long before Akira's body ached with hunger and she was forced to decide to join in on the scuffle the next time bread was tossed into the room. Her chance came after a long time. The door opened and once she heard where the loaf landed she rushed forward. Hunger forced her to abandon her fear of getting hurt in the fight over the food.

Akira, to her advantage, was swift on her feet and managed to reach the loaf before the others. She quickly scooped it up and stuffed over half of it into her eager mouth before she was struck on the head, arms, and neck by the other children. The remaining parcel was pried from her grasp by three boys who viciously fought over it.

Having successfully obtained some nutrition, Akira quickly retreated into the darkness to avoid receiving anymore abuse. She chewed and swallowed the stale bread, licking the crumbs from her fingers. The morsel was hardly enough to satisfy her aching hunger, but it did sooth the angry growls that emanated from her stomach.

After consuming the bread, Akira watched as one of the boys who had taken the loaf from her approached her. He had dark red hair and green eyes. His clothes were torn and filthy and his lip was swollen and bloody from his most recent battle for food. He looked to be a few years older than Akira.

Akira tensed and she was filled with apprehension as the boy drew nearer. When he was a few feet in front of her, he stopped. Akira waited, expecting this boy to lash out at her, but instead he gave her a toothy grin.

"I'm Makoto! Who are you?" He whispered.

Akira eyed him suspiciously before answering, "Akira."

"Wanna be my friend?" The boy asked.

In the days to come, Makoto and Akira stuck together. Akira learned that Makoto had been in this prison for the longest. He didn't know anymore than Akira did as to why they were brought here, but he did show her where to find water. He led her to the far wall, the one opposite of the door, where a leaky faucet protruded from the stone wall. The metal was rusted but with enough force, the handle could be turned and Akira could drink from it.

Makoto and Akira decided to work together in acquiring the single loaf of bread that was thrown into the room on occasion. They had decided that Akira, being the fastest, would retrieve the loaf after it was thrown. She would eat half of it and quickly toss the rest to Makoto before the other children could reach her. Makoto did his part by protecting Akira if anyone got too close to her. By teaming up, they were successfully able to obtain nutrition without sustaining any injuries.

That changed when one day several kunai were thrown in the dark room along with the usual loaf of bread. Akira managed to acquire a kunai along with the loaf, but was ambushed by a boy who made it past Makoto. The boy managed to steal the food from Akira after slicing her right arm with his own kunai. Akira let out a hiss of pain as her injury, that ran from the outside of her wrist to halfway up to her elbow, bled heavily.

The usual fight took place over the loaf, only this time it was a lot more lethal with the kunai involved. Makoto rushed over to Akira, he was holding his own injury on his side, and he pulled her to one of the dark corners to avoid the fight.

Screams and cries were heard as children were stabbed and cut while squabbling over the loaf. Akira was so horror struck at the violent scene that she hardly noticed Makoto rip a piece of fabric off of his shirt. Her eyes were town away, however, when she felt him cinch the fabric around the laceration on her arm. Akira hissed in pain.

"Sorry." Makoto whispered.

"What about you? Are you alright?" Akira asked, pointing to Makoto's blood stained shirt.

"It's just a scratch." Makoto assured her, lifting up his shirt to reveal a long cut than ran up the left side of his ribcage. Despite the length of the wound, it wasn't very deep.

Makoto let the dirty fabric fall back in place before a mischievous grin graced his lips. "Besides, I got myself one of these." He said, holding up a shiny kunai.

"So did I." Akira said, holding out her own.

"With these we might have a chance of getting out of here." He whispered. "Next time the door opens, we'll escape."

"Do you think it'll work?"

There was a long pause before Makoto answered, "It's the only chance we've got."

A very long amount of time had passed before the opportunity presented itself to Makoto and Akira, but during that long amount of time, several children had ceased moving. Some were so severely injured that they had collapsed from lack of blood and they never moved from where they fell. The others that passed were so grievously starved, that they just simply faded away.

After a few days, the sickeningly sweet stench of rotting flesh hung in the air like a thick blanket. Makoto and Akira stayed in the far corner, and when they occasionally ventured over to the rusted faucet, they avoided the bodies, stepping carefully around them. Akira couldn't stand to even look at the decaying children, the revolting sight made her stomach churn, and if she hadn't have been starved, she would have lost the contents of her stomach.

After an eternity, light flooded into the dark prison, as the door was creaked open. Makoto and Akira exchanged a knowing look, both thinking that this was their chance. But before either could make a move, a boy -the one who had wounded both Akira and Makoto- darted forward, kunai raised. He dashed towards the figure in the doorway, but before he was even close enough to attempt escape, the figure unsheathed the sword that was strapped to their waist and in one fluid motion cut down the boy.

The figure laughed evilly before saying in a deep male voice, "You can't escape, any attempts will be futile." He sheathed his sword and then continued, "let me give you a hint, only one of you will make it out of here alive, but you have to earn your freedom by surviving."

He tossed the loaf of bread into the room and then shut the door. Akira was about to leap forward and retrieve it, but Makoto held her back.

"It's too dangerous with the kunai." He said.

"But I'm hungry." Akira whined. She truly was. There was an empty ache that had settled deep in her stomach and she had lost all of the fat storage on her body. Her bones were too prominent, and the process of starvation had begun.

Makoto wasn't any better, in fact he was even skinnier than Akira, but he held his grip firm on his friends arm, preventing her from stepping forward.

"I am too, but you'll get yourself killed if you join the fray. It's best if we wait until the others are wounded enough and we have the advantage."

So that's what they did. It was a risky decision, for if they waited too long, they wouldn't have the energy or the strength and stamina to stand a chance against the other children. If they didn't wait long enough, they risked getting wounded or even killed.

It wasn't long before Akira realised that there was something wrong with Makoto. His movements were slow and strained and his face was white with pain. When she asked where he was hurt, he told her it was the wound he had received from the kunai. He lifted up his shirt so Akira could examine it, revealing a very infected wound. The cut was very swollen and a brilliant shade of angry red. Sticky green pus seeped out of the thin opening in his skin, giving off a putrid stench.

Akira was too young to know much about infections, but she understood that Makoto's condition wasn't good. She had him sit against the wall while she ventured over to the faucet. She rinsed the bloody cloth that was wrapped around her own wound -which was already starting to heal- in the water and brought it back to Makoto where she began to gently clean the puss away from the injury. Makoto shut his eyes tight, occasionally hissing in pain.

"I'm sorry, but I've got to clean it or it'll get worse." She whispered.