Heartless | A Powerless Fanfiction Novella

Chapter 2: Corrine

It's been hours and the screams haven't stopped, each one more haunting and more laced with pain than the other so much so that I could almost feel it in my bones as if it were inflicted upon me. Unless the Silencer decides to put his voice to good use and reveal the true reason he had decided to attack the prince of Ilya himself, this is the only way he will use it for now.

I've been watching Kai since he returned, the world down here a rough contrast to the riches lining the grand halls and that fact almost being torture in itself knowing the two worlds exist in a parallel that forces you to act the same no matter which one you cross into. It took a while for my eyes to adjust to the darkness layering around me, thick and damp with the sweat of dozens of bodies scrambling for a thread of life and that crumb of sanity known to slip away too easily. The power thrums inside of me calling to the faint sources of light, the minimal electricity down here a disadvantage to my strength as a Volt but nonetheless still existent for my comfort. I haven't moved an inch nor flinched with my eyes pinned on the pair inside the cell lined with Mute - the material crafted with the help of Silencers to prevent the use of abilities within its confinements. This unfortunately also means that whenever the prince carries out his interrogations they are to be done bare-hand.

I wonder what place his thoughts reel into every time the blood of a new prisoner meets his skin. Skin that I'm sure should have remained porcelain smooth were it not for the title bestowed on him by his dear father. There hasn't been a day that went by to convince me he felt the thrill of his work was personal rather than forced, or more accurately engraved into him. 

From my spot leaning on the stone wall the footsteps coming down the stairs aren't hard to register, especially with the echo playing in the space. The light above me flickers in the slightest when I realise who exactly stepped foot in the dungeons.

He doesn't belong here.

Even the golden strands of his hair look as if they're being dulled by the second, the colour itself being drained just by stepping down here. The future king of Ilya isn't known to visit the dungeons therefore leaving that particular job to his brother. With the same blood flowing through them their fates couldn't be more different and it doesn't take a psychic to see the truth behind their roles. He stops a few feet away from me as if not daring to go any further just so that Kai won't see him. The Enforcer couldn't see his audience in the shadows, but his prisoner seemed to have set his eyes on Kitt Azer - if anything the baring of his teeth indicating his plans on talking now. His presence being noted by the Silencer seemed to seal the decision.

"How long has this been going on?" His voice is quiet, almost a whisper.

I don't turn to face him as I respond, "Two hours."

"And?"

"Nothing."

I see him nod from the corner of my eye.

"You have blood on your uniform."

I drag my eyes from Kai in the prince's direction, realising he had shifted his attention from his brother to me. And sure enough as I look down the deep red is soaked into my left arm, staining the material in quite a brutal manner against the damning white. Royal guards dressed in white. Weapons concealed in exactly what they are not: pure. It's as if King Edric had chosen it himself, ensuring that victories remain on display long enough for everyone to witness. Not only victories...but failures as well. Forcing us to choose between walking with shame or pride.

I sigh, crossing my arms to ignore the blood, "It's your brother's. He had a rough morning."

"Rough? Or deadly?" I don't miss Kitt's voice taking a turn.

"He's alive is he not? And plus whatever would you do without your Enforcer. Think of it as practice for him. A test which he passed: again."

"You sound exactly like my father."

"I sound like someone whose life depends on yours." I nod my head in Kai's direction, "And his for that matter."

"So you must be glad of his survival as much as I am."

I pause before answering, "Do I value my life?"

The question seems to throw him off for a second, rhetorical nonetheless but it looks like it makes him consider what I'm implying. Bold of me to even dare to make the prince think on my behalf, but perhaps it's a good thing.

I shake my head once, returning to the screaming prisoner we were still watching, "I believe I'm supposed to value yours and your brother's more than mine. So it doesn't matter now does it?"

I don't feel his eyes divert from me, they remain fixated somewhere on my face - the half of it that was not covered by the mask. Kitt's gaze on me lingers for a moment longer before he finally speaks.

"You're Lowes aren't you?"

The feigned surprise I respond with at the rise of an eyebrow makes him huff a laugh.

"You're not hard to forget. Kai doesn't do his Imperials a favour by learning names, but yours he seems to remember. I've heard it enough times for it to stick."

"Lucky me."

"And then there's that humour of yours of course. How can I miss that?"

The amount of times my mouth took the better of me and bent the rules without thinking makes me question why the King himself hasn't shut me up. I'm supposed to be invisible, just another mask like every other one in his army. Conceal the killer, reveal the human beneath if there is one left.

"What if it was you in there with that Silencer right now? Would you get him to talk?"

"No. If Kai doesn't succeed, why would I?"

"You're the crown prince, weigh your crown in gold in front of him that might persuade him."

"I wouldn't last in that cell if the roles were reversed. I think I would break much quicker."

"And your brother, does he look like he's breaking right now?"

Kitt finally drops his gaze from me, the weight of it now evidently disappearing as he watches the Silencer bare his teeth in pain. He doesn't respond, because we both know the answer: Kai is already broken. You can't shatter a puppet that's already in pieces. Only piece them back together to your liking, just like their father built his personal weapon of choice.

He starts walking towards the stone stairs, that other world bathed in riches only a metal door away, "You're different Lowes."

I turn in his direction, "Because I speak?"

"Because you feel."

And with that he's gone. Leaving me to sink in yet again another cacophony of screams.