Locked Away (GerIta)

Chapter 20

Chapter 20

~

Although he was weaker, skinnier, and dirtier, Romano's anger still burned with a passion. He was cuffed and sat in a tiny room that could barely fit him.

He used to be in a bunker full of other men who were there for many different reasons. But he'd been moved because he tried to escape several times.

Keeping himself sane was starting to become a difficult task. All he heard all day was his breathing, his heartbeat, the grind of his wrists against the tight cuffs. Sometimes even the blood that hit the floor when he'd struggle too much.

There was no light except for the crack at the bottom of the door and the food he got was dropped onto the floor from above.

At least Ludwig gave me clean toast.

The Italian grunted and curled up. He soon fell asleep but woke up later when he was shouted at, squinting as light flooded the space. He was dragged out and told to stand in front of the crowd of male prisoners.

"Strip." A soldier commanded.

Romano immediately opened his mouth to deny the request but the only sound that came out was a pained shout when he was whipped across the back.

Trembling, he inhaled slowly a few times and unbuttoned the striped shirt, letting it fall from his shoulders. Then he hesitated and closed his eyes, dropping the bottom half of his outfit.

Humiliated and being eyed by everyone around him, he bowed his head and shook a little more.

"Kneel!" Another soldier barked at him and he did so, with much trouble because of his poor strength.

He kept his head down and his hands between his legs. Romano knew this is how he would die. So many people had been executed this way, so why not him?

He sniffled and the few tears that were left in him escaped. All the Italian could think about was Feliciano and Grandpa Roma. He thought about Antonio the most. How they had sworn never to be romantically involved again because the first time was just hell. But he remembered craving his warmth and his lips.

Meanwhile, the soldiers ordered two other prisoners to take the shotguns and keep them trained on Romano at all times.

His breathing shook along with his naked body and his chest heaved uevenly. The Italian squeezed his eyes shut as he heard the guns bullets being inserted and then clicked into place.

This is it. Oh god, I love you, Antonio. I love you Feli. And Ludwig, you bastard, take care of him!

"Eins! Zwei! Drier-"

Romano gasped loudly as cold water was splashed onto him. Again, and again, and again.

The prisoners who held the guns looked at each other in relief as they knew they didn't have to shoot but didn't dare lower the shotgun.

Romano trembled because he was cold now, the dirt his skin had accumulated was dripping off and his hair was soaked.

Soon he was given a rag and was told to dry off, get dressed and go back to his cell.

~

That day, random prisoners got chosen to be given a bath. Romano was lucky to be chosen. He was also lucky to be alive.

It was a great day.

The Italian still sat in his dark, damp cell but he could finally see the real tone of his skin and his hair was soft instead of wiry. It still held tangles but it was deep brown, not dusty grey.

Romano smiled, then laughed. Then he stood up and screamed, banging on the door and clawing at the walls of the cell. Slumping against the wall, he panted hard.
It was becoming a difficult task to stay sane.

~

Antonio sobbed as he received another letter. Another threat and another taunt. He'd been getting these messages for a month now.

They would tell him that Romano had accumulated many injuries from his regular beatings. They would send photos of the beaten and bloodied Italian.

At first, Antonio was enraged and wanted to go and fight those bastards. But shortly, a threat was at his doorstep.

If you ever try and save your precious Italian, we will kill you. Oh, and his brother. Now, who would want that?

The poor bastard wouldn't have anyone left. After that old fucker, Roma, is dead... Well he'd be all alone. All you want is to be together.

I suggest staying away from him. And if you don't, we'll throw his brother into the coffin as well. Feliciano Vargas, that weak little shit. We know who you are. We know who you all are.

And we will not hesitate to kill all of you wastes of space.

Stay right where you are. Antonio.

~

To be continued...