Nixie continued to push the rickety trolley down the corridor, still not fully recovered from the encounter he had just had. A few years ago he spent some months in a small port city, Khworez. The fish market they had there made the whole city reek of slime and rot. The girl, if he could call that thing a girl, reminded him of the sharks local fishermen sold. Those murky gray eyes and a wide mouth with triangle teeth seemed entirely out of place on a human face. Her overly friendly demeanor was a cherry on top of that uncanny package.

One of the wheels stumbled into a loose rock, making the whole cart jump. Nixie cursed when some of the gray slop ended up on his shirt. Now he was going to smell like this crap… amazing. He was eternally grateful that the slop was not part of his diet. And while the food he was given was not great – or even good – at least he could usually tell what he was eating. The slop, though, was exclusively reserved for the prisoners. Or 'guests' as most referred to them for whatever reason.

After a few more minutes, he reached a closed reinforced door. He was almost at his destination. Nixie banged on the door a few times, each hit sending echoes through the empty corridor behind him. He waited for a sliding peephole near the top of the door to move. It did a few seconds later, and just as quickly as it did, it was closed again. The door rattled and was pushed open from the inside.

Nixie pushed the trolley through, avoiding the guard's gaze. Besides the one who let him in, there were four other men in the room. None of them paid any attention to him as he slowly approached one of the four cells in the spacious room. He didn't like this place. He didn't like how low the ceiling was here, and the extremely bright light of the lamps made his eyes tear up every time he entered. He's been here multiple times now, and yet he's never been able to see what was in any of the cells. While the room itself was illuminated, the cells themselves were narrow and carved deep in the rock. The light of the lamps didn't reach all the way inside any of the cells and whoever, or whatever, was inside clearly didn't want to be seen.

He stopped the trolley next to one of the cells but made sure to keep it far away from the thick bars. With a look of disgust, Nixie grabbed a heavy metal pitcher and scooped up a good portion of the slop. Each cell had a thick metal tube running from the front all the way to the back. Nixie approached the tube and dumped the pitcher's contents in its opening. He found it somewhat fascinating how well the thick mass flowed down the tube and deeper into the cell. As the slop made its way to the other end, Nixie could hear sickening sounds of gurgling and chewing as whatever was in the cell started feasting.

'Another happy customer,' Nixie thought as he returned to his cart. 'One down, three more to go.'

On one hand, Nixie thought this was an easy job—definitely beat cleaning out the latrines, at least—but the feeling of tension in the air was almost palpable. The whole place a wound-up coil ready to spring. The guards remained as still as statues as he pushed his trolley past them and towards another of the cells. As he walked, the ceiling-mounted lights cast erratic shadows on the room's walls. Nixie had been here less than five minutes, and already, he could feel his eyes starting to sting from the intense light.

With a pitcher full of slop in hand, Nixie approached the second cell. The metal pitcher let out a soft clank as it made contact with the feeding tube. He barely had a chance to put any of the slop in when a sudden whirring noise from somewhere above him made him stop. Surprised by the sudden sound, Nixie looked up just in time to see the light bulb directly above him flicker and go out.

He could feel the change immediately. All that uneasiness and tension that he felt in the room before exploded.

With his eyes still on the now dim light bulb, Nixie felt an intense wave of fear wash over him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he registered the sudden rush of movement behind the cell door. Then, there was a sound of bare feet and naked flash stumbling and dragging itself over a rock floor.

It wasn't quick thinking that saved him, just pure animal instinct somewhere deep within that recognized he'd be ripped to shreds if he didn't move. His body lurched backward as if on its own, and Nixie jerkily shifted his gaze just in time to see a spindly arm reach for his throat from within the cell. The yellow, chipped fingernails came so close to touching his throat that he felt a whiff of air as the grasping hand passed him by.

Unable to keep his balance after the uncoordinated move, Nixie landed hard on the cold stone floor – his eyes never leaving the spindly arm. For a second he thought that he was out of its reach, but to his horror, the arm reached out for him again. As more and more of it came into view it became clear that it was far too long to belong to any ordinary human. The hand grasped for him again, this time going for his ankle, but Nixie still held the heavy pitcher in his hand.

The remaining slop was sent flying in every direction as Nixie slammed the pitcher with all his strength into the grotesque appendage. The move gave him just enough time to scurry further away from the cell. A split second later, the hand swiped against the floor where Nixie had laid before, leaving behind five deep grooves and fingernail chips on the stone floor.

With the creature this close to the cell bars, the remaining light bulbs now illuminated its grotesque form. To Nixie's shock, the thing looked like it was, at least at some point, human. What was now in the cell, though, was little more than a horribly twisted pile of flesh.

The thing's eyes were gigantic, easily three times the side of a normal human, and where its mouth was supposed to be, all that was left was a fleshy hole lined with chipped teeth and jagged bone-like growths. Nixie counted at least four elbows on each of its long arms. As the creature stood there, its limbs moved between the cell bars like snakes grasping at everything within their reach. Through all that time, the creature's large, puss-filled eyes never left Nixie.

From somewhere behind Nixie, a bright light source came to life, bathing the creature in its rays. It let out a wretched gurgling moan and, with inhuman speed, retreated deeper into its cell, away from the light. Nixie watched the cell a little longer to make sure that the thing was really gone. It took a few moments before the shock wore off, and his mind cleared. When it finally did, he shakily stood up and glanced over his shoulder.

One of the soldiers was holding a heavy-looking tube fitted with a thick lens and a large light bulb. Nixie's never seen anything like that before, but it seemed to be some kind of portable electric light. As long as it kept the thing at bay, that was good enough for him.

"There are spare bulbs in the cabinet. Take one and replace the burnt-out light bulb." The soldier's voice was without a hint of emotion of any kind. It took Nixie a moment to realize that the man was speaking to him.

"W-what is that thing?" Nixie asked shakily.

"Should you fail to perform your duties, it will be reported to the Warden. There are spare bulbs in the cabinet. Take one and replace the burnt-out light bulb," the soldier replied in the same machine-like tone.

Nixie cursed under his breath and slowly approached the cabinet, still unable to stop himself from shaking all over. He cursed once more when he ran a hand through his hair only to realize that a good portion of the slop he spilled ended on his head.

Without much interest, Vladimir observed the streets passing outside his carriage. The low fog that cowered curbstone streets reminded him that this was once a desolate swampland. Now, after many years of the city's growth, it was swallowed whole by The Immortal Bastion and turned into one of the most exclusive parts of the city. Even the dim light of the lamps was enough for Vladimir to make out all the fine details around him. The elaborate snow-white facades, small parks, and luxurious storefronts. At this time of night, all of it was quiet, just like Vladimir liked it.

It was time now.

"That will be enough. Stop here."

Without any effort on his part, Vladimir's voice cut through the sound of wheels on the uneven road, and the carriage came to a smooth stop. He made sure that his attire was perfect. When he was satisfied, Vladimir slipped on a delicate porcelain mask that covered his whole face. The door of the carriage opened, revealing his bowing servant.

"I wish you a pleasant evening, my Lord. Do you wish to be picked up later?"

Vladimir breathed in the damp, cool air and smiled behind the mask. "No, that will not be necessary. It's a good night to have a little walk, don't you think?"

"As you say, my lord." With another bow, the man closed the door behind him and climbed back up on the carriage again. Vladimir turned away and, at a leisurely pace, made his way through the deserted streets.

Nixie struggled to keep his eyes open. His hands mechanically peeled one potato after another with no end in sight. He couldn't tell when the last time he got some sleep was. Keeping track of time in this place was hard.

Even when he got time to sleep, he rarely woke up rested. He was beginning to suspect that there was some kind of magic at play that decided how much rest he would get. It was at least clear that no matter how tired he felt, as long as there were tasks on his daily to-do list pending, he would not be able to fall asleep. He's tried that multiple times and always with the same result. As long as his list still had items on it, it was like the place itself just wouldn't let him rest.

This time, at least, he wasn't alone, although that hardly made any difference given how indifferent his companion was to everything. Nixie stole a quick glance at the man sitting next to him, who was cutting the potatoes Nixie had peeled. He was bald and looked so thin that a stiff breeze would be enough to knock him over. Just like Miina, he had that blank, absent stare that never left his face.

"How long have you been here?" Nixie asked as he tossed another potato his way. He waited, but the man showed no intention of replying to his question. Nixie was hardly surprised, though. The man only ever spoke when he needed Nixie to do something; he didn't even know his name.

"I tried making marks on the wall next to my bed. You know to at least keep some semblance of time passing, but it's not working. Sometimes, I feel so tired that I am sure it must have been more than a day since I slept, and then I make two marks." As Nixie spoke, another peeled potato joined the pile. He didn't even care if the other man was listening. He just couldn't stand the silence anymore.

"… then other days, I just collapse in bed and forget to do it. I counted them yesterday, and there were eighty-seven of them. Not even three months yet, but I find that hard to believe. Feels more like a year already. Might as well be solitary confinement with only you soulless fucks around."

The man didn't react to his rant in any way and mechanically continued cutting the potatoes in front of him.

"It's a damn freak show. This whole place, I mean. And why the hell do I have to be here? Because I didn't want to die in the middle of nowhere, covered in mud while fighting some savages? All this crap with no end in sight! Even fucking slaves at least get to see the sun every once in a while!"

As Nixie's pent-up frustrations surfaced, his breathing became ragged. He felt like shouting, crying, running, and collapsing at the same time. He started at the damn potatoes in front of him, clenching the knife in his hand so hard his knuckles turned white.

"I am waiting for more potatoes."

In a daze, Nixie lifted his eyes to find the man looking at him blankly.

"What?"

"I don't have any more potatoes to cut," the man repeated, pointing at the empty bowl in front of him.

It wasn't the man's request that made Nixie snap. It was the emotionless tone and the empty gaze that suddenly reminded him he was just talking to a brick wall here. His mind went blank for a moment, and the next thing Nixie knew, he was holding the man by the collar of his shirt. His frail body flailed around as Nixie shook him like a rag-doll with all of the strength he could muster.

"DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A SHIT ABOUT YOUR FUCKING POTATOES?!"

It only took a few seconds for Nixie to return to his senses and realize what he was doing. With shaking hands, he let the man go and collapsed back on the small stool next to him.

'I am completely losing it,' Nixie thought hopelessly as he struggled to calm down and control his erratic breathing.

Seemingly unphased by what just happened, the man beside him turned to Nixie again.

"We must complete the task soon, or today's meals will be delayed. I need more potatoes to cut."

With his hands still shaking, Nixie leaned down to pick up the knife he had dropped at some point. With it in hand, he grabbed another potato.

Briar snarled and flailed around as she was being dragged closer to the forge. She tried twisting around to sink her teeth into the hand that held her, but the grip the man had on her wouldn't budge. With each passing second, Briar felt more and more of her strength sapped away. By the time her body was flung on a massive metal table, she was limp with exhaustion.

More people, more hands on her. Warm this time, strong but almost gentle compared to Vladimir's grip. Her legs were stretched apart and held in place by massive steel shackles. More chains followed, more shackles – holding her body still. Last were her hands; her vision was blurry. Briar couldn't tell what they were doing with her hands, but soon, she couldn't move those either. Then came the heat and hammer blows. The red-hot steel burned her shoulders and neck. She tried to scream, but her throat was crushed, and she only managed to let out pained coughs.

Her vision cleared for a little while. Standing above her was Vladimir, whose frowning face made it clear that he was not pleased with her.

'It didn't have to be this way, you know. I had plans for you.'

More and more weight was added to her shoulders. Now, she could barely move her head. The pain wouldn't stop as they hammed at the steel.

"Hey, are you awake?"

Briar was abruptly ripped from the trance. It took her mind a moment to recover and overcome the confusion. She was back in her cell, the pillory around her neck as cold as it's always been. She had been getting lost in her memories more often lately.

Suddenly, her pointy ears perked up when she heard a heavy sigh coming from the hallway in front of her cell.

"What did she say her name was?" the voice outside muttered. While it was barely a whisper it didn't escape her sensitive hearing. She practically launched herself at the grate above her cell door.

"It was Briar!" she beamed at the visitor, making him jump back in surprise. "And you are Nixie! See, I remember! What took you so long to come back?"

"I… I had a lot of work to do; there was no time," Nixie replied hesitantly after taking a moment to recover from Briar's sudden entrance.

"Ahh, don't worry about it. All is forgiven. You are here now. Also, you look like crap."

Nixie chuckled dryly, hearing the remark, and tiredly ran a hand through his hair. Briar's smile widened a little. She couldn't even tell how long it had been since she heard someone laugh.

"I look like I feel then." Nixie hesitated and then let his back slide down the wall until he sat on the cold floor. "But I needed to talk to someone. Anyone... Before this place drives me completely crazy."

"That is great! I mean, it's not great that you are not happy, but it's great that you thought, 'I could really use a friend,' and then you came here!"

"We're not friends. I have no idea who or what you even are. As far as I know, if that door wasn't there, I'd already be lying in a pool of my own blood." Right away, Nixie poured some cold water on her enthusiasm. Briar's smile faltered, but then he continued: "With that said, you're the only one in this hellhole who seems willing to talk to me."

Briar thought for a bit: "So… we are not friends."

Nixie nodded.

"Yet," Briar quickly added, her smile returning. "But in time, you'll get to know me, and then we'll be friends!"

Nixie was a bit taken aback, but before he could formulate a reply, it was too late. Briar flashed him a toothy smile and pointed at him through the bars: "Ha, you didn't say no! It's settled, then. What did you want to talk about, my future friend?"

Nixie took a deep breath and fought his desire to sleep. His hands were still sore from his work in the kitchen, and sitting here, he felt that if he closed his eyes even for a moment, he'd probably fall asleep. In his current state he found it hard to focus on anything.

"I don't even know where to start," Nixie breathed out, dejected after a moment of thought. "Do you know what's up with everyone here? The guards move about like machines, and the others – they might as well be sleepwalking with how they act most of the time."

Briar's mouth twisted into a pout as she thought about his question. "Nope, no idea. As far as I can tell, it's been like that since I got here. I always thought they just avoided me."

"Thought as much," Nixie muttered.

Briar stared at him, expecting he'd say something more, but the man seemed content just sitting there, solemnly staring at his feet. She quickly got bored of it.

"Hey, I know what we could do! We could make it like a game. You ask me a question, and then I ask you, and then you ask me… Do you get it? So then it would be my turn now!" As far as she could tell, Nixie didn't seem too enthusiastic about the idea, but then again, she was also starting to get a feeling he just enjoyed brooding. He didn't protest, though, so Briar took it as an agreement.

"Soooo – where are you from?"

"Where I am from?" Nixie repeated, to which Briar nodded enthusiastically, the metal contraption around her head clanking against the steel bars as she did so.

For a while, Nixie was quiet, but just as Briar was beginning to think he wouldn't answer, he lifted his head and looked at her. "Drugne, at least that's where I grew up. Left that place as soon as I could…"

"You didn't like it? What was it like? I've never been there."

"It's just a small port town on the river Dalama. A bunch of half-collapsed buildings no one ever bothered to repair, with a few people keeping the lights on. I don't know how some people even call it a city. When it wasn't raining there, it was snowing. I don't remember seeing a single sunny day," Nixie stated absentmindedly, the tip of his shoe tracing a large crack in the floor as he spoke.

"Still sounds better than this place. Can't even remember when I last saw rain."

"Yeah, well, this place doesn't exactly set a high bar. Do you know what they call it?" As he asked it, he didn't expect Briar to know, but to his surprise, she nodded.

"Shrieker's Den. At least that's where they said they would take me. A fitting name, right?"

Author's note:

If you thing there wasn't enough Nixie and Briar in this one don't worry, next chapter is going to start with more of them interacting. I am just trying to spread it out a bit to avoid having them talking and talking in a never ending exposition dump. I also finally want to focus a little more on what is going on with Vladimir in the next one. Sorry these updates are so slow, but my will to write comes and goes as it pleases. I haven't written almost anything in the past month and now over the weekend I wrote almost 10K words for this and other stories... So it goes.

I will try to get the next one out before February. Wish me luck.