The Origin of My Dreams

Chapter 16

"So, this is really happening." Vladimir said with a sigh. He was sitting across from Agatha, their plans were all written down in front of them.

"Yup." She replied, leafing through some of the papers.

"But what if we cannot find answers, or what if this is just something innocent, or-"

"Worrying doesn't solve anything, you know." Agatha smirked. "It will be fine. In the worst possible scenario we end up dead- and even then we won't be able to regret anything."

"Yes, but that is what I am afraid of," He placed his face into his palms. "Regret."

"I'll only regret not going." Something about the way Agatha said that struck realization into Vladimir's mind. What real harm was there? Sure he may have to offer some appolgies, but how bad is that? Besides, if they backed out now, the curiosity would probably eat at him for centuries to come.

A sudden knock on the door made them both stiffen.

"Open up!" A voice commanded from the other side. Vladimir slowly made his way to the door, and opened it cautiously.

"Ms. Petran- Mr. Arcos? What are you-"

"We wanted to help." Arcos said simply.

"Uh," Vladimir was dumbstruck.

"May we come in?" Ms. Petran asked quickly. Vladimir stepped aside from his doorframe to let his coworkers in.

"How did you even know about this?" Vladimir shut the door behind them. The two led themselves through his apartment, but stopped when they saw Agatha.

"We have our methods. Don't worry, no one else knows. We hope. But, uh, who is she?" Arcos motioned to Agatha, who had all their plans collected in her hands.

"I should be asking you that." Agatha snapped back.

"Arcos- Agatha, Agatha- Arcos." Vladimir introduced the two.

"And I'm Adela." She chirped.

"Right, that is Ms. Petran." Vladimir brought his hands together. "Now that we are all introduced, can one of you explain?"

"Explain what exactly?"

"Everything?" Vladimir had no idea why the two of them were there, and frankly, he wanted them gone as soon as possible.

Arcos sighed. "Well, Adela and I butted heads looking for the same information and we decided to join forces to learn more about this ALPHA thing. It's led us here."

"Conveinent." Vladimir muttered under his breath.

"What are you planning?" Adela questioned, looking directly at Agatha. Agatha looked to Vladimir, who slowly nodded. She bit her lip.

"We may have found some answers," she began vaguely.

"Oh?"

"It's just in the matter of obtaining them..." Agatha finished and Arcos smiled.

"So you're going to get them. You wouldn't mind entertaining a bloke who could see some action?"

"This is not going to be as exciting as you think. Besides, I do not trust you." Vladimir spat, crossing his arms.

"Touché. I suppose this will make it more interesting then." Arcos still wore a smirk on his features.

"Fine." They all silently agreed.

.

"Thirteen days..." He muttered. He was hanging by his wrists in a dark place. He couldn't quite see, though he knew he was in a prison cell, an old one. The door creaked open, and he raised his head.

"Hello, again." The voice in the dark said. It was a strange one. He couldn't quite say what kind of voice it was, almost childlike in some ways. Then again, how could a child do something like this.

He tried to think logically. Don't struggle, don't scream, don't tell them anything. His own thoughts terrified him.

He bit his lips when the pain began. His face was wet from perspiration, tears, and a warm liquid he refused to identify.

"All I want is your name." The voice cooed, striking again. "A golden little name, not that hard is it? Doesn't give me any information- I'm sure you share it with a million others."

He knew the voice was lying. There had to be some reason it wanted his name. Maybe it thought- yes it- that if it could get a name, it could get anything. He wouldn't let anything spill. Not a single word.

"I never liked knives too much, too slow a pain." It hissed. His wrists were unbound. He fell to the floor, but strong hands lifted him up again. They pushed him forward, and tightened another fabric across his eyes.

He struggled on, stumbling from blood loss and sheer lack of motivation.

Finally, they pushed him to the floor, grabbing his arm, and handcuffing it to a pipe. When they removed his blindfold, he was almost blinded by the bright light. But he didn't have time for his eyesight to adjust before his head was plunged into a bucket of murky water. Murky salt water, terrible touch.

When he was brought back up to the surface, he gasped for air.

"A name."

It was a child who stood in front of him. And he wondered to himself if it was his imagination. If he had created this villain to torment him. Two strong figures stood beside the boy, but he paid them no mind. He was still deciding what was reality and what was not.

He promised himself he would stay sane but-

Sirens roared. "Code green!" One of the strong men yelled. The boy hissed.

"Keep the prisoner in here, we will deal with him in a moment. Who is it bothering me?"

He almost smiled as they all paraded out. He slouched across the wall, enjoying the change in sceanery. He looked around for any clues as to where he was. A sticker was stuck to the pipe. He recognized some Romanian characters.

So he was somewhere Romanian was spoken. Romania, or perhaps Moodova? It was almost impossible to figure out, he knew.

He scanned his other surroundings. Concrete floors, cinder block walls, large metal beams leading into the ceiling. Something heavy was above here. A building, or perhaps more Earth?

Pipes lined the back wall, where a furnace and boiler stood proudly next to each other. He was in a utility room.

He froze when the door unlocked. Instead of a man dressed to torture, a man dressed in a business suit entered the room. The businessman looked surprised when he saw him. Blond hair, blue eyes.

He was soon unlocked and the businessman helped him to his feet. "Quick, let's leave." He businessman said, leading him out. His accent was strange, not like that of the boy's. A foreigner then. A strange foreigner, who presently had more questions about what was going on then he had.

He wasn't sure how they got in the jet, or where they were going, but at this point he didn't care. He didn't care if he was going to be killed, or sold into slavery, or even just tortured somewhere else, he was just done.

"I'm Ludwig." The businessman said, slightly unsure of himself. "I'm taking you to Germany. You'll be safe there, depending."

"Depending on what?" He managed, his voice scratchy from lack of use. These were the first words he had spoken for thirteen days.

"Depending on why you were cuffed to a pipe in a place like that."