The Hellhound

Commander Sergeant

Hallway after hallway and staircase after staircase, all of which only serving to take me further away from Sage. With one soldier in front and the other behind, that only made the tightness in my chest worse. Commander Sergeant. In a different world, there were so many different directions this could take; anywhere from a slap on the wrist to imprisonment. But unfortunately, there was only this world.

Only this world and I feared there might be more options at their disposal.

Surely it wasn't that big of a deal, right? It wasn't something worthy of chains or bars or worse. Was it? But a harsh nudge from behind sent me staggering forward and the soldier walking before me shot a look over his shoulder. Maybe disinterest. Maybe annoyance. Either way, his eyes never landed on me; not really. They flitted from me to the soldier behind, then back to the hallway before us.

Time crawled on and on with every long hallway and staircase we took. It felt like an endless descent to Hell and yet, the eventual sight of the destination in question did nothing to slow the racing of my heart. The soldier leading us had come to a halt before the door. Much like the one that had led to the offices, this one was controlled by a keypad. Once the pin was typed in, a loud buzz broke the silence and the door was unbolted.

Thoughts whirled through my mind, though not a single one stuck. None of them made any real sense, though each new one was just as fleeting as the last. And as the soldier pushed open the door and I was nudged through from behind, the weight in my chest had sunk to my stomach.

Where the color palette hadn't changed from the rest of the bunker, the room offered something that I hadn't seen elsewhere; a jail cell nestled in the corner of the room. It was small; hardly much bigger than the cot that was inside it. And much to my dismay, I was soon to discover that it wouldn't just be the cot trapped behind those bars.

We'd barely stepped through the doorway before the soldier from behind steered me into the cell, sliding the door shut with a loud clang that rattled against the rest of the bars. There was a low buzz as the cell locked itself up tight.

Imprisonment. Better than any alternative, right?

And yet I found myself whirling around against the steel bars, gripping them until my fingers ached. I needed something from them; anything. Not even reassurance, just something. But they'd backed away, standing against the wall across from me and whispering something amongst themselves. The one who'd been in the lead spoke into his radio, his eyes barely flitting over me. "The source of the lockdown is in custody, sir."

He spoke the word source as a breath of disbelief; one I found myself feeling as well. The source? My throat tightened as the aching in my fingers grew worse. My palms itched against the metal, but I couldn't move. Didn't know if I couldn't or wouldn't, but my lips were moving before I could stop myself.

"What source?" I managed to get out. My voice sounded so painfully loud over the humming of the lights, and I felt my heart skip under the weight of their stares. "You don't really think that I-"

"We don't think anything," sneered the soldier who'd followed behind us. I loosened my grip on the bars as he sauntered forward, and I took a step back. "Our orders were to bring in anyone who didn't comply with the lockdown. You were the only one not within their designated room at the time of the security sweep."

He came to a halt just beyond the bars, dark eyes looking me over but not actually seeing me. I took another step back, my gaze flitting to the soldier who still remained against the wall. He wasn't looking at either of us. The best and only way to describe the look on his face was impassive at best, and that hadn't helped ease the concern growing in my chest.