Drawing Blood

Prologue

Adam slowly lifted his head, and formed his eyes into the thin slits. It was all he could manage. Every time he tried to open them properly, pain sliced across his forehead, his sockets stinging so much it was as though someone were using their thumbs to gouge away at them. A thick, swirling grey mist fogged his brain. The world around him span sickeningly out of control. It made him want to wretch. It took him a few minutes to will it to stop.

He needed to work out where he was if he wanted to survive. He could not tell how long he'd been there. But, he knew he was alone, and that his mouth had been taped up to stop him from screaming. Trying to find what little strength he could in his battered and bruised body, he attempted to move, only to realise quickly his hands had been forced behind his back; held there with some cutting wire.

He took a steady breath and braced himself, crying out in agony when he popped open his swollen eyes. He peered out at his surroundings. He was in a room. A circular room. A room made entirely out of bricks. The cement holding it all together seemed to be falling away like dust, and the floor was dirty, ugly, strewn with bits of rubble and wood. A set of thick, heavy chains had been attached to the wall opposite him. And a cracked, bloodstained altar sat beneath them, it's greying surface covered in inch-long deep gouges, and teeth marks. Swallowing down his nausea, he turned his attention to the row of sturdy wooden doors embedded along the walls. Immediately he guessed they were the entrances into this place. He lifted his gaze upwards, to the only light source in the room. He observed the sky outside. He finally knew where he was. He was sitting at the bottom of a large, disused, and carefully adapted well. And with mounting horror, he could see that it was dusk.

The smell of death was terrible. The stench of it filled up his nostrils, saturating his pores. He scanned the room fearfully, breathing in and out through his nose. He guessed quickly why he had been brought here. He knew he would not be leaving here alive. He had helped a man escape. He had helped a Cure escape. He had fled the country afterwards, only to get caught. He was here to face the consequences.

A single, blood curdling scream echoed somewhere in the distance and terror replaced his fear as it began to creep into his belly, slicing him like a hot knife. His insides were turning to shreds. He could hear the faint rumble of a familiar voice behind one of those doors, and fought to keep his heartbeat steady, the panic in him rising like a tidal wave. He attempted to move, only the chair he was sitting on rocked backwards and forwards. He realised it was chained to the ground. Desperation took him. As a door to his right opened, allowing a thin strip of yellow light to fall neatly across the chipped floor, it stopped him dead in his tracks.

The ghostly glimmer of human bones that littered the altar filled his vision. He held his breath, his thundering heart betraying him. He remembered his training and focused on a spot on the wall. Someone had entered. He was going to die soon.

A tall man with dark, floppy hair made his way over to him him. He wore black jeans and a sleeveless shirt. Adam did not know the man, and he was careful not to acknowledge him. He continued to stare at a spot on the wall, and simply let all the terror drain from his mind. He thought of Rose, of how she made him feel. He often turned to her in the darkest of times. If he closed his eyes he could recall every tiny detail in her face, every little freckle gracing her nose, every inch of her perfect skin. He may not have seen her for the last eight years but he knew she was safe, knew she was happy. He would not see her again, but he was okay with that. He had done the right thing in letting her go. He had done the right thing even though it had killed him.

Sensing that Adam wasn't paying any attention to him, and not liking that he was being ignored, the floppy haired man suddenly growled and came forwards to thrust his face so close to Adam, he had no choice but to notice him.