Unrelenting || myg.

Chapter Twenty-three

-This is another long chapter!

Half an hour later, or so I think, I was sat directly in front of the bars but this time there was a small silver metal can in front of me. I peered down at it's contents. It looked like corn swimming in the liquid that helps to preserve it and make it last longer. My mouth watered at the sight of food.

I cast my gaze upwards towards the guard on the other side of the bars before looking back down at the food. He was taunting me by leaving an open can of food just out of my reach. The shackles gave me space to move around my room but they wouldn't go past the bars.

Once again I tried reaching for the tin but my elbow stayed bent due to the force of the metal chain holding me back.

"Please," I begged the guard.

I want the food. I would rather have no food than being tortured like this. It's against my rights. The guard let out a sigh before reaching down and picking up the can before passing it to me through the bars.

"Thank you," I barely let out as I grabbed the can.

This guard was different. He didn't look like he wanted to be here and his features were kind. I'm also positive that most guards would have let me suffer longer.

I sunk my ringer finger, middle finger and index finger into the tin as I scooped out it's contents and started to feast on the vegetable. I let out a groan of contentment as I munched on the small pieces if corn. Unfortunately, before I knew it, I'd reached the bottom of can and lay down on the floor like a star, knowing a good portion of my stomach had filled.

My mind started to run with different thoughts. I could hear the mutters of the person in the cell opposite mine. Sitting up, I looked in their direction and they were curled up in a far corner with their knees against their chest as they rocked back and forth. They looked young. Not much older than myself.

"Three minutes. Just keep running. Don't stop," is what the boy said to himself over and over.

Three minutes? What's happening in three minutes? Why does he need to run and not stop? I continued to watch the boy rock back and forth whilst muttering words.

"Excuse me?" I interrupted him.

Slowly, he looked up to me and I could feel some sort of trauma radiate from him. Blonde hair fell down onto his forehead and it complimented his light brown eyes which seemed kind if they were not filled with fear.

"Are you okay?" I asked him hesitantly.

He wiped a stray tear that ran down his cheek before replying to me.

"We're all going to die in here."

"What?" I question, completely confused by his sudden confession.

"You'll see. You might make it once or even twice like me but not a third time," he rambled although I had no idea what he was talking about.

"Make what?"

"The game," he states firmly.

Out of stress, the boy put his head back down and began to mumble to himself once again. Well that was... strange. A game? Everything he said just didn't seem to make much sense to me.

Although it was morning, I hadn't slept once last night so I decided on lying down and trying to sleep. However, it didn't take to long for my eyes to become heavy and for the boy's whispers to fade out as I drifted off into a much needed rest.

***

[This part isn't a dream, in case it seems like it might be.]

I was awoken to the sound of my cell door making scratching noises as it was pulled open by two guards, both wearing masks.