Welcome to Trench

DEMA

Scritch Scritch Scritch.

The dull knife I found while walking around the city one evening scratched another line on the stone wall of my room.

Too many lines.

Maybe hundreds of them on the wall above my bed. Or what shouldn't be considered a bed. It was a flat, thin mat placed on top of a metal sheet that is chained to the wall, so that prisoners, oh uh, I mean unassimilated residents, didn't have to lay on the floor. The floor would probably feel better, but at least they provided a blanket. Oh and a nice wooden desk, which is a nice change from all the stone around me.

Anyway, the lines represent the amount of days I've been here. Hundreds of days in a city named Dema. Hundreds in this prison cell. Hundreds I've been in this dark stone room, the only light provided by the barred opening in the wall, which is a sad excuse for a window. Hundreds of days since the freak car accident and the even freakier hooded figure took me away to this place. I don't even know why, I'm not even special. And it's not like this place is the prettiest.

The sky is always overcast and you can count on it to rain often. Every one of the buildings is made of a dark gray stone, and everything smells like dirt.
The city is odd and shaped in a circle. Huge walls as tall as the sky, and, you guessed it, made of stone, encompass the perimeter. To keep out what, I don't know. But I for sure know they keep people in, however there is a huge wooden and steel gate. I think that's how the figures get in and out of the city, but I've never seen it open.
You can also always find vultures. I don't know where they come from or why they're here, but they're always perched on roofs or flying around probably looking for some fresh food.
It's dark, and dull. And depressing, I dare say.

When I'm allowed out on my daily scheduled walk, I take note of everything around me. The uniformity and perfection of all the buildings. They're all the exact same height, same color, same, same, same. Nothing changes. Not even the people I see on my walks. The other prisoners and the other hooded people that accompany them are the same.

Except for the buildings toward the center.

See, as a pri- unassimilated resident, I'm not allowed near the center of the circle. I can't even leave the circle that I'm in. I'm in the 1st, the outer circle of the city. This is where people like me, the prisoners who are freshly captured, stay. All the buildings are dedicated to housing us, and once we have gone long enough without violating rules or get caught attempting to escape (the worst possible thing you can do), they deem you good enough to move on to the 2nd. And then the next, and the next, until you're in the final circle.
I can peek at those buildings on my walk. They're far, but I can make them out. They look so much more nice, colorful, and lively than where I am. I couldn't imagine what that part of the city is like, how the people interact, if there's hooded figures milling around there with the residents.

I also don't think it's my goal to get there.

As nice as it sounds, this city is not my place. My place is- or was Ohio. That seems so far away right now, but I know that Dema is not where I belong. I need to get out, but I don't know how. I've looked hard on my walks, and yet I can't find a hole or weak point in the wall or a small door anywhere that could maybe lead me out. For right now all I can do is deal with my current routine: waking up, writing letters that I know can't get sent, the three bland meals I get each day, the only contact I have with the hooded figure for my evening walk, then sleeping. Except every 3 days we do this weird ritual in between the 2nd and 3rd meal. The guards take all of us prisoners through an underground network of tunnels, where we take a right, left, left, straight, right and finally we emerge into another building. It has a large open room, especially dark compared to the one I stay in, and here we do the ritual. The hooded figures that wear red come out, stand around this neon light, and have the crowd kneel as they do their weird dancing around it. I still haven't understood why we do this. Maybe to remind us who's in charge. I don't know, it's weird.

Creaaaaaak.

I turn around and the door to my cell is open. The same hooded figure is standing in the doorway.

"Joseph," he whispers.

The sound sends shivers down my spine. I'll never get used to this, but it's my cue to go on my walk. I stand up from my desk and am guided down several flights of stairs before we emerge outside. We begin on the same route as I've taken the past 16 days, with the figure close behind me in order to stop an attempt of running away. It's pointless, they easily catch you. And I know because my 4th day here, I watched someone make a break for it. Their figure easily caught them, and I haven't seen them on my route since. I don't even want to think about what happens when you try.

Oh, let me tell you more about the figures. There's ones that wear black, and they guard the prisoners to make sure they do what they're told. Then there's ones that wear red. They're actually called Bishops. From what I understand, they're the cult-like leaders of Dema. There's 9 of them, and the leader of them is named Nico. On my 1st day here, my guard told me he was the one who caught me. I don't know why the leader would personally come after me, and I don't really know what their purpose is except to be creepy and govern the city. They reside directly in the center, where anyone except for them are forbidden to go.

That's about as much as I can tell you about Dema and what happens inside. Or at least what happens where I'm currently positioned.

We're currently halfway around the city, furthest away from my building. I just remembered to scan the walls, something that's become normal for me to do to find a way out.

As I do my normal thing, sighing as I expect to not find any change, the vultures above perched on the wall suddenly squawk and fly around, sending a couple feathers down around me. I look up, because this is not normal behavior for them, and find...

Is that someone standing at the top of the wall?

My chest fills with anxiety, and I lose my footing and fall. An "oof" leaves my mouth as the wind gets knocked out of me, and I turn my head to look up at the wall. I watch them turn around and leave as my guard forces me up by the back of my shirt, and forcefully pushes me forward, almost making me fall again.

"Move!" He hisses, the other prisoner across the way watching out of the corner of their eyes.

I look down at my feet, keeping my head low as I walk a little faster to finish the route. I couldn't tell, because they had a hood on and their face was covered, but they almost looked familiar, and they certainly aren't a part of the city.

I don't know where they came from or how they got up there, but I want to find out. And I'm going to soon.