The Sound of Rain on Stones

Chapter One: The Prison

A boy who was never supposed to survive.

He stared out the window, watching the trees fly by. Streaks of rain pelted the hood of the car, sliding down the glass. He observed a singular drop slide to the corner of the window and watched until it disappeared. He sat back against the cold seats with a sigh as the car slowed, tilting his head back. He stared up at the vehicle ceiling, noting the perfect smoothness. No marks, no dents. Crunchy radio chatter crawled out of the speakers, and the boy watched as the outline of his father looked left and right before pressing on the gas pedal. The car was utterly silent except for the occasional swish of his father's crisp suit jacket as he guided the wheel and the man from NBC rambling about current events. Eventually, his father's rough voice broke the silence.

"Atlas."The boy's eyes slid to the mirror where his father's cold grey eyes stared back. Atlas did not respond, but the air's thickness now had a questioning tint to it. "I expect you to behave."The air staled. Atlas stared at the cold eyes for a minute longer before dismissing his father by turning back to the window. His father let out a displeased noise, but those empty eyes slid back to the road. Atlas watched his reflection in the window. Those grey eyes he hated so much stared back at him. He looked at himself for a moment longer, his gaze traveling the length of his face. A long scar cut from his nose to his cheek, stark against his tan skin. The skies were dark and coated with heavy clouds that matched his eyes. Sheets of rain poured endlessly from the sky, as grey as his father's eyes. Atlas closed his eyes allowed himself to be lost in his mind, dreaming of the life he wanted. Alas, he would never get that chance as the car swerved into a driveway and slowed. Atlas let his eyes slide open at his father's gruff "get your stuff." He grabbed the duffel bag lying on the seat beside him and opened the car door with a sigh. An umbrella covering his head, a man stood in front of the car. His father slipped out of the car, his umbrella grasped in his hands. Atlas watched as the men clasped hands, the rain soaking through his jacket. He pulled his hood up over his head and stared at the building in front of him. Tall and made of dark brick with silver bars across the windows. He looked back at his father and the man, who was staring at him now. He sighed, slung his bag over his shoulder, shoved his hands in his pockets, and trudged over. He towered over the man and his father, which wasn't abnormal for him, but the man looked mildly surprised. His face soon smoothed over, and he extended a dainty manicured hand. "Joseph."Atlas stared at his pale shiny hand as rain dripped onto it. His father gave him a sharp nudge, and Atlas slowly extended a hand to grasp the man. Atlas didn't offer his name, just stared. A tight handshake later, his hand was back in its pocket. The man gave him a nervous smile and turned towards the building. His father put a hand on his back, attempting to guide him forward. Atlas stared down at him, grey eyes glinting. His father's hand disappeared from his back, but the message in his eyes was clear: Walk. So Atlas did, following the man into the building. The further into the building Atlas went, the more he became more confident that this place was a prison of some sort. The inside walls were white with browning edges and chipped paint. There were an abnormal amount of hallways in the building. Atlas peered down one of the hallways and saw numerous identical doors leading off into the darker end of the hall. One of the doors cracked open, and he locked eyes with a boy. Joseph paused at the sight of the boy. The boy was tall and slim, with startlingly white hair against his dark skin. His cold black eyes watched them blankly. Atlas broke eye contact with the boy to stare down at Joseph from the corner of his eye. Joseph gave the white-haired boy a forced smile and asked him to step forward. The boy's eyes focused on Joseph, and he did so silently. Joseph turned to Atlas and nodded to the boy. "This is Zakariah-" he began. "Zak."The boy's voice was low and dark, and his cold eyes had seemed to sharpen at the sound of his full name. Joseph slowly turned to the boy, another tight smile on his lips. Zak stared at Joseph silently, face impassive except for his eyes, which burned darkly. The two had a stare-off for a moment before Atlas cleared his throat. Zak's eyes snapped to him, curiosity blooming across his face. Atlas stepped forward, extending a hand. "Atlas."Zak stared at his hand for a moment, eyebrow furrowed and then stepped forward. Their hands met, and Atlas held back a shiver at the cold feel of Zak's hand. "Zak."Zak's voice was softer than it had been when directed at Joseph. Atlas couldn't help but notice how he and Zak were only about a head apart in height. He rarely came across anyone who could nearly match him in size. Their hands broke apart and fell into either boy's respective pockets. Zak's dark eyes stared into him, and Atlas felt as though they were eating into his soul. As strange as it made him feel, he found himself thinking as though he would not mind if Zak's dark, dark eyes consumed his soul entirely. Atlas gave his head a light shake and then turned back to face Joseph and his father. Joseph locked his eyes on Zak. "Zak, would you mind coming with us to help with Atlas' tour?"Although he phrased it as a question, the man's tone did not give room for any refusal. Zak stared back at him with hooded eyes before giving his answer: "I would not mind, Headmaster."Atlas' eyebrow twitched at the title, but he said nothing and merely followed Zak back into the main hall. Headmaster Joseph walked alongside his father while Atlas and Zak trailed behind. Joseph was giving intricate details about every single fiber of every single wall, but Atlas tuned his nasal voice out. Instead, Atlas watched Zak out of the corner of his eye. He noticed the way Zak's shoulders stood straight and alert, even tense. He saw the way Zak's fingers fidgeted in his pocket. He noticed the way Zak's eyes darted around, incredibly alert. He even caught the way the hoodie of his dark grey hoodie slipped down occasionally to reveal a dark mark at the base of his neck. Atlas noticed these things and became more intrigued by the boy beside him. Soon though, Atlas' watching ended as they came to a heavy set of double doors. "And these are our classrooms."Joseph slowly cracked the doors open to reveal what used to be a cafeteria, with row upon row of wooden desks. In each wooden desk was a boy. As Joseph began to lead the group further into the room, Atlas allowed his eyes to take in the room's settings. The boys had haphazardly shoved the desks together to form groups where they were leaning together. There seemed to be a sort of hierarchy, though, as Atlas witnessed a group of boys closer to the far end of the cafeteria with auras that reeked of priority. The sound of the doors slamming against the walls startled Atlas, and he whipped his head around to investigate. When he turned back around, the eyes of every single boy were on him. Zak had stepped off to the side a little, and Joseph turned to Atlas. Atlas tensed. Joseph gave him another of those bitterly fake smiles and urged him forward. Atlas slowly stepped in between the headmaster and his father, facing the boys. "We have a new student!"The boys' whispering died down completely. Now it was dead silent, and expectant eyes were boring into Atlas' body. He knew what they wanted and expected from him; specifically, he knew what his father and Joseph wanted. Atlas was not eager to please, and therefore he did not give either what they so desperately craved. Joseph stared up at him, expectancy in his eyes and yet another saccharine smile plastered across his face. Atlas had had enough of that sick smile. He leaned down towards the headmaster and watched surprise flit across his face. His lips reached his ear, and he whispered. When he straightened, he was pleased to find Joseph's face deathly pale, and that stupid smile wiped clean off his face. Atlas figured there was not enough smiling going on at the moment, and since Joseph loved smiles so much, he flashed one of his own. Joseph's face paled further. Atlas turned to his father next and smiled at him as well. His father turned the same shade as Joseph and backed up. Atlas loved that expression on his face. It was similar to the one he wore as his father's fist came down, bottle clenched in it. That same expression as his father's hands closed around his neck. That same expression as he fought to breathe. That same expression that he watched his sister wear as his father cocked a gun. That same sickly pale expression that he wore as his father's fake tears slid down his cheeks at his sister's funeral—that same nauseating expression.Atlas' smile had taken a darker edge at this point. A hand closed around his arm, and he whipped around. Joseph trembled a bit but kept his grip on Atlas' arm. Atlas felt himself slowly losing it. And this time, he found no reason to stop it. Who would see his father out here? Who would give a single fuck about his father's corpse after everything he'd done to the world? And would you care about this twisted little man grabbing his arm? Atlas figured nobody would because he sure as hell didn't. Another hand closed around his arm, this time closer to his palm—a cold, strong hand. Atlas turned and came face to face with Zak. His dark eyes were calming, and Atlas felt himself relaxing against his touch. Zak's dark eyes moved across to where Joseph had wrapped his hand tight around Atlas' other arm. At Zak's look, Joseph immediately released him. Zak's eyes calmly returned to Atlas' stormy eyes and stayed there. A spark ignited in those dark irises, and Atlas almost wanted to tear his eyes away. But he did not; he stayed staring into those pitch-black depths. Atlas had honestly never seen a pair of eyes darker than Zak's. They were the embodiment of a night sky without a single star. Atlas continued to stare into his eyes and found that he enjoyed looking into Zak's eyes very, very much. The sound of murmuring starting back up broke their staring. Atlas broke eye contact and turned his head only to stare directly into another pair of eyes. This pair of eyes were vivid chartreuse, sparkling with interest and mischief. Atlas only got a glimpse of those eyes before Joseph's high, reedy voice was shouting, and guard-like men ripped zak's grip away. Stronger hands closed around him, and he felt something small and needle-like stab into his arm. His vision swayed, and Atlas collapsed.