Radioactive

Part 7: Inside staring out

Hello, readers! Yeah, I know, it's been a LONG time since I last wrote. I had a hard time trying to figure out what to write next, and I've been somewhat busy. Since I haven't written in a while, I've decided to write a long chapter for you this time. I may not have mentioned this before, but most of my inspiration for this story comes from the music video for "Radioactive" by Imagine Dragons. It's a very strange video, but there are some similarities. There's a lot to Radioactive and her world that I haven't shown yet, and even I don't know all the details of Radioactive, her past, or, more importantly, her future. Yes, I know this is a long author's note, but I thought I owed it to you all to explain myself. Well, here it is.

     Whispers fill my ears as I wake up. Something is going on, that much I can tell. I cock my head to one side to hear better and shuffle quietly into a half-crouch. Looking around, I figure that it's dusk, since almost everyone in here is awake. I see nothing moving through the bars, so I can only assume the whispers are coming from the Fives around me.

     "Stupid kids," a Five mutters, orange eyes slanted and mouth pulled down into a grimace, staring away from me.

     "Anyone recognize them? We'll see them again," chuckles Callous Resistance, who I've decided to call Calres. It's shorter and less intimidating, helping me remember he's no greater or more powerful than any of us in here.

     A few people laugh quietly, but no one speaks up. Who are they talking about? Sometimes we call each other people, but after everything we've been through it's a stretch to call us "kids".

     I stand up out of my crouch and realize that all but a handful of the weaker Fives are trying to squeeze closer and closer to the far back right-hand corner of the cage. I start to walk over but hesitate as a memory goes through my mind. There is no way it is what I am thinking of. There are so many cages throughout this place that there's no way it's the same one. I shove through the crowd, earning a few bites and getting revenge by biting back harder.

     There's a tiny hole in the corner, just as I was worried there would be. I shove the other Fives out of the way, and Calres growls. Finally, I'm the person directly in front of the hole.  It's just barely too small for me to look out with both eyes. I lower one yellow eye to the hole. Even though the light is dim, it blinds me a little. On the other side, a green eye stares back, pupils dilated in fear. I narrow my eyes and growl loud enough that the girl backs away a little. Her face is pale, and her mouth is pulled back in disgust.

     The Fives were right, I think as I stare at the girl, she's just a kid. She can't be more than ten years old. Her tangled, dirty brown hair is tied back with a piece of ripped cloth. Her shirt is too big for her and stained so much that I can't tell what the original color was. Her pants reach just above her knee and have holes all through them.  

     Her appearance isn't the only thing I notice. This is definitely the place. The warped, leafless tree that  reachs towards us. The small clumps of poisonous mushrooms mixed in with the yellow and brown grass. I had been here when I was younger. The last time I came here, I was peering into the hole, not out of it. Back then, I had wondered  what it was like to be inside. Staring out, I wish I didn't know the feeling. 

     "I told you it was real," whispers a girl standing out of the viewpoint of the hole. I'm guessing that she is her sister or that they have close families. Unless you know someone from before the Tattoo's rise to power, it is extremely uncommon to spend time with people outside your family until you are an adult. The adults figure that the less people their kids get attached to, the better it will be for them.  Most people don't meet strangers or even learn the names of people in the shacks nearby until they're no longer children.

     "Can we go now? You were right, the story's true," whimpers the green-eyed girl. That's a good idea. You both need to get out of here right now.

     "No, I'd like to stay a while. Don't be such a coward, Nixie," mocked the other girl. She walked past Nixie and started climbing the old tree. She laid down on a thick branch and put her arms behind her head, pretending to sleep. 

     Someone shoves me backwards and presses his face up against the hole. I pull on him and try to tug him away from it. I give up, realizing that he's not budging and I'm just going to wear myself out. That would be a very bad thing to do before a fight in the Pit. I back off, but I'm still curious about why the girls are here. They must know the risk. Yes, it's obvious the girls came here for the sake of proving this hole is real, but their parents should have stopped them before they got here. Only a fool would let their kid(s) get anywhere near the Pit.

     "We should go before the fight starts. It's not safe here. My parents would be furious if they knew I was here," protests Nixie. Well, at least she's trying to get out of here.

      "They won't be back home until the fight's over. Besides, the Tattoo are probably getting ready for this," she says, and I see a flash of movement. I think she waved something, but I can't be sure until the Five in front of me gets bored and leaves. It doesn't seem like that's going to happen, though, because a smirk fills his face.

      "Too late for them," he chuckles. I hear a gasp and footsteps coming closer to the hole. Then, the sounds of muffled screaming and something being dragged fill the silent cage. Well, more accurately, two girls being dragged. The crowd turns and spreads out in all directions, muttering pity, mockery, and annoyance.

      I know what happened, but  I need to see what's left. I walk over to the hole and peek out. The grass is scuffed up, specifically in one direction heading towards the road. I can picture the girls kicking back and forth, trying to get free. On the ground, I see what the one girl had been waving. It's a torn piece of paper with fingerprint smudges and dirt all over it. It said "The Pit, 7:00 p.m.". Well, at least the Tattoo didn't pretend it was an invitation.

     The Tattoo go to a different area of this region every night, usually posting  these notes on the doors of ten to fifteen places where people live. I say "places" because these homes range from run-down buildings to home-made tents. The adults have to go to the Pit or hide elsewhere, but they're punished if they don't go to the Pit. If they live alone and have no family, they will be killed. If the person has a family, the husband and wife will be killed and the children will be taken to the Infirmary. In the Infirmary, they will be torn apart and pieced back together. By the time the surgeons are done with them, the kids are agressive, vicious, and powerful monsters. So, yes, most people go to the fights. Some even enjoy it there.

      When parents are told to come to the fight, they usually send their kids to a building, shack, or tent far away. They don't want their kids to see the house being ransacked for anything useful or, even worse, have their children be kidnapped. When the Tattoo first took control, families from different areas of the region agreed to allow each other's kids to take shelter there until the fights ended and dawn came. They can only stay for one night and one day. If the parents don't come back by nightfall the next day, they are presumed dead and the kids are forced to leave. If you are killed at the Pit, you have in some way angered the Tattoo. If another family is found with the dead parents' kids, they too will die. At that point, all the other family can do is send them on their way with food and clothing to another region. If they're lucky, they will make it there. 

      I try not to think about the meat that we're fed, because I have a feeling it leads back to those people. There are no cemetaries around here, and no one knows for sure what happens to their bodies. It's like they just disappear. Imagine what would happen if that's true, and everyone knew. Even if one day all of us were let out, we would be hated and feared for it. It's not like it's our choice, but no normal person would understand that.  We would be trading a small chance of survival for a bounty on our heads. Perhaps we're better off locked in here. At least here we know where the danger is coming from.

      It's getting dark now, so the fights will start some time in the next hour. I cringe as I hear a muffled sobbing noise and see two Tattoo clomp down the stairs to the Infirmary with Nixie and her friend. They won't come back up here for at least a few months. I hope they will be drugged up so they don't feel themselves being torn apart and changed permenantly. I know I'm lying to myself if I believe they'll have that peace. The constraints are strong enough to hold down two young girls, so the surgeons will save the drugs for a less compliant, stronger specimen. I would pity them, but I have my own survival to worry about. The Pit fills with noise as people come in, anticipating the fights.