The Conquering (Book #2 in The Inception Trilogy)

chapter two

**unedited**

CHAPTER TWO

ROBBIE LAY IN THE dark shivering with his knees tucked to his chest. He doesn't know where he is or how long he's been here. All he knows he's that he's scared. So, so scared. He doesn't have Poppy with him, or Eve or Harry or Sasha or Maxie or Ress. Even Locke would comfort him in this dreadfully lonely, dark, scary place.

Wherever this place may be.

He hasn't seen anyone since that giant vampire with both ears missing took him. It feels like it's been years he's been trapped in this black hole, but surely it can't have been more than a few days, a week at most. Or maybe he just hopes it hasn't been that long so there's a chance Eve or Harry is about to pop in at any moment and rescue him.

That would be real nice.

If he woke up and this is all a nightmare.

He's not so naive as to put his faith in that belief, though.

He's not sure how big the room--if it's even a room--that he's in is. He hasn't tried to stand or feel around, despite his instincts telling him to. He's afraid. Fear can be a crippling enemy, an unstoppable one.

He doesn't know what the vampires want from him.

He doesn't know anything at all except that he's alone and frightened.

He falls in and out of sleep irregularly, never knowing when unconsciousness will hit. He stays with his back to a cold, stone wall and his knees pulled up. He ignores every pain of uncomfortability. He does not move from his position even the slightest bit. He's oblivious to the hunger churning his stomach and the fact that he's in desperate need of new clothes, particularly pants. Even if he acknowledged the reality of his situation, he would fight hard to not care.

Shutting off his brain is prefered as opposed to drowning in horrible thoughts. However, the task is easier said than done.

On whatever day at whatever time, a door opens to wherever he is. The action causes a brilliant light to pour into the space, making Robbie whimper and press his fists into his eyes. Footsteps get closer to him, and his mind screams at him to be alert yet he feels unable to move. He remains curled up against the stone, probably appearing pitiful and on his deathbed. At least he feels as much.

"Can you stand?"

Robbie can't answer, still stunned from the bright light.

"Come on, kid, help me out. It smells like crap in here and I'm really not in the mood for antics. Can you stand or what?"

The voice isn't totally unfriendly, oddly enough, but of course it isn't the friendliest voice either. The man simply sounds tired and bored.

Despite his legs feeling like jelly from going unused, Robbie struggles to sit up. He keeps his eyes pinched shut as he uses his hands to push against the concrete floor. His arms wobble and his knees quiver, threatening to give out before he's even put much pressure on them. His eyes water, but he bites down on his bottom lip so he doesn't seem like such a baby.

There's a heavy sigh before a firm hand grips one of Robbie's elbows. "Disgusting," he grumbles under his breath, and Robbie isn't sure if the insult is directed at him or not. He wouldn't be surprised or offended considering his current state. He's now aware of his pants sticking to him, his cheeks warming but more so the desperate need for a shower strikes him harder than embarrassment.

Robbie manages to squint, looking around.

There's no toilet anyways. No bed or food or water or change of clothes. It looks as if a giant punched a hole in a wall, and someone figured it would be a good holding place for little children. Then Robbie peers up at the man, his eyes watering at the bright light, but he manages to depict dull brown eyes and plump cheeks, stubble lining an undefined jaw. He's neither mean nor friendly looking.