THE CHAIN, B. Barnes daughter

2. new room

October 7th, 2003

THE OLD MAN SWIFTLY WALKED DOWN
the dimly lit corridor, the weight of the baby cradled in his arms like a burden he couldn't wait to unload. Number Seven, a new addition to the ranks of the numbered children, was ready to join her peers in their bleak existence.

Approaching a nondescript door, the old man fumbled with the keys, his hands trembling with anticipation. Behind this door lay the living quarters of the other numbered children, from Zero to Six, each one a silent testament to the cruelty of their captors.

With a click, the door swung open, revealing the spartan room within. Seven pairs of eyes turned towards him, their expressions a mixture of curiosity and resignation. Two of the children lay on their cots, their weary bodies already succumbing to exhaustion.

Suppressing the urge to hurl insults at the children, the old man beckoned to Zero, the eldest among them. "Zero, now," he commanded, his voice tinged with impatience.

Zero wasted no time in obeying, her steps quick and precise as she approached the old man. With a grimace, he thrust the bundle into her arms, his words dripping with malice. "It better not die," he spat before turning on his heel and stalking out of the room, the door slamming shut behind him with a resounding thud.

As the children breathed a collective sigh of relief, they gathered around Zero, their curiosity piqued by the new arrival. "What is it?" Four asked, her eyes wide with wonder.

"It's a baby," Zero replied, her voice soft as she cradled the bundle in her arms. "A girl, I think."

One, standing beside her, eagerly reached out to take a closer look. "Let me hold her," he said, his voice tinged with excitement.

But Zero shook her head, her gaze falling on Six, the youngest among them. "Let Six hold her," she suggested, kneeling down to the tiny girl's level.

Six stared up at her with wide eyes, her expression a mixture of curiosity and trepidation. "Hold your arms out, love," Zero instructed gently, placing the baby carefully in her grasp.

Six complied, her small arms trembling slightly under the weight of the infant. "Don't drop her," Zero cautioned, hovering nearby just in case.

As Six looked down at the baby in her arms, a look of uncertainty crossed her face. "Zero, I think I'm scared of babies," she confessed, her voice barely above a whisper.

Zero couldn't help but chuckle at her innocence, remembering her own fears when she was just a child. "Oh, hush, you were once one too; I remember, I held you," she said reassuringly.

"Ew!" Six exclaimed, wrinkling her nose in mock disgust, eliciting laughter from her older siblings.

Present time

SEVEN SAT IN HER small room—all rooms—that's been the only thing she's known for a year. Never leaving, never talking. She pretended she was mute, so she didn't have to speak to the old man.

Seven's world was a quiet one, a silent symphony of muted sounds and vibrations that danced across her half-deaf ears. It was a constant struggle to navigate a world that expected her to hear, the guards' harsh words falling on deaf ears and met with confusion and fear.

As the door to her cell creaked open, Seven's heart leaped into her throat, her senses on high alert as she strained to make out the figures that loomed in the doorway. The sight of the guards and the old man sent a shiver down her spine, her pulse quickening with apprehension.

Summoning all the courage she could muster, Seven squared her shoulders and fixed the old man with a steely gaze, determined not to show any sign of weakness. "Seven," he called out to her, his voice carrying a cold edge that made her blood run cold.