World Eater

Prison I

Valentine walked out of his room late that morning, still wearing horribly fluffy pajamas. He yawned and stretched his arms out, trying to shake away the sleepiness. The window at the end of the hallway let light enter he house and fill it with warmth. He was still drowsy, but decided to walk downstairs and get some breakfast. What's today's breakfast? He asked himself. Today wasn't his turn to cook, so he looked forward to the surprise. He descended the carpeted stairs, but his foot caught on nothing at the bottom and nearly fell over. Luckily, he had the good sense to stick out his other leg and catch himself.

"That was close..." he mumbled to himself.

"Ahaha. You need to be more careful Vel. How many mornings are you going to trip on the same step?" a younger girl, still in middle school, said. She sat on the couch in the living room, not far from the stairs. Her hair shone a vibrant red, cleaner and clearer than Valentine's auburn hair. Her green eyes reflected the same hue of green of his own.

"G'morning..." he replied. "What's for breakfast?"

"Breakfast? You mean that thing I ate hours ago? It's all gone."

"Gone? How!" Valentine acted shocked and stepped back, almost tripping again on the stairs behind him.

"I ate it. Your share too," the young girl replied, a mischievous smile playing across her face. She clearly enjoyed messing with him.

"No... How could you? You little vixen..." Valentine played along. He fell down, his face brought to the ground in utter defeat.

"Just joking. I saved some for you," the young girl said. He half expected it, being acquainted with the girl's playful but troublesome nature. "It's on the stove."

"Sigh... You can't just mess with a man's food. You just can't," he replied. He gave out a small smile. This sort of thing became routine to him. He enjoyed these interactions, they helped him deal with the rest of the day. "Thanks, V-"

"...?"

"V..." Valentine couldn't remember the girl's name, even though he sees her nearly every day.

"What's wrong?" the girl asked, her face frowning in worry.

"I don't... I..." His head spun. Everything in the house started to stretch and pull. The ground shook, and the lights in the house flickered violently, screaming out in protest. When the trembling ended, the girl was gone.

"What? Where are you!?" His heart pounded in his chest and panic overwhelmed him. He ran around the house, opening every door, every cupboard, even the toilet seats, trying to find the small girl. As he checked everywhere he could think, the sunlight streaming in through the windows grew dark. Valentine ran out of the house, unsure of what was happening. He looked up and a large planet suddenly loomed above, eclipsing the sky and blocking out the sun. It hung there by a thread, ready to fall at any moment. The mysterious planet opened up its mouth and a torrential sound erupted in his ears. A flood of water fell down from the dark planet, seeking to swallow him whole. With every second the diluvian downpour fell closer to Earth, until the waterfall was ready to consume him.

"Pfuah!" Valentine shot up. Water dripped down his wet face. He gave a sigh of relief when he realized what he saw before was just a dream, though remembering what really happened didn't make him any happier. Where was he, anyway? He looked up, but didn't recognize the surroundings. In front of him stood a man wearing plate armour. It gave an odd feeling, as if he came right out of the middle ages. The man held an empty bucket in his hand. Looking at his own drenched body, Valentine could surmise where the contents of that bucket had gone.

"Get up, scum," the armoured man said.

Valentine obeyed. As he got up he realized he stood naked. All his clothes and possessions were missing. Well, he was proud of his body, but even so suddenly being naked before a strangely dressed man in a dark room unnerved him. He looked around, surveying the wide area. He seemed to be standing in some sort of cave, perhaps a mine. He couldn't see the walls of the room, either due to the dim lighting or the expansiveness of the room. The room was cramped with people. Hundreds of other men, women, and children - all naked as well - huddled together like cattle in a slaughter house. This is just like-

"Get over here," the guard yanked his arm with inhuman strength, and a jolt of pain ran through his arm.

"... A prison," Valentine completed his previous thought. He didn't try to resist the guard who dragged him, playing it safe. "Um... where am I?" he asked the guard.

"Just shut up."

"..." The situation didn't favour him. Other guards dragged out several other prisoners from the same room. The bars of the large prison cell slammed shut behind them. The guards dragged Valentine and the other prisoners down a dimly lit tunnel.

What... is that? Valentine asked himself. He faintly heard an odd sound coming from the tunnel. Is it singing? The more they moved through the corridor, the clearer the sounds became. The sounds of people screaming in agony echoed louder and louder through the corridor. "Wait... where are you taking me!?" He panicked at the resounding screams that filled his ears. He tried to pull away from the guard's iron grip.

"Quiet!" The guard struck Valentine's head with the back of his hand. The blow, which shouldn't have hurt too much, was strong enough to drop him to the ground like a rag doll. His head spun, and he couldn't muster the strength to get up. He felt as if a hammer had struck him. The guard spared no time and kept dragging his discombobulated prisoner.

They reached a large furnace room. The fires illuminated the area, but gave it an ominous red glow. Valentine shook off his concussion and, with the rough handling of the prison guard, stood up. Even more guards, dressed similarly to his own captor, filled the room. Valentine saw other prisoners near the furnaces. A guard restrained each prisoner, while other guards pulled out long metal shafts that had been sitting in the fires of the furnaces. The hot, flat ends of the shafts glowed a bright, crimson red. The guards holding the burning shafts from hell turned around and plunged them into the chests of the prisoners. The prisoners screamed out as the red-hot metal seared their flesh.

Valentine could only stand there and watch. His body locked down. He couldn't even tremble involuntarily. His frozen terror was interrupted when his guard dragged him forward towards one of the blazing furnaces.

"No! Stop!" He fought and resisted with all the strength he had in his body.

"Stop struggling!" the guard said, and even he struggled to drag his prisoner to the furnace.

"No! Let me go!" Valentine drew from a well of strength he didn't even know he had and fought back like a cornered animal. He squirmed and wriggled as hard as he could, trying to wrestle free of the guard's iron grasp. Fed up, guard punched him in the jaw. The steel-plated gloves only made it more painful. The taste of iron flooded Valentine's mouth as he fell to the ground yet again. The guard dragged him forward and forced him up on his knees.

He knelt only a few meters from the furnace. His captor held him down so he couldn't escape. The heat from its blazing flames made every sweat gland in his body open at once. His body covered itself in salty sweat in protest of the heat. He felt like a marshmallow too close to a campfire. His skin wanted to crawl away and find shelter. Another guard stood in front of him, tending the furnace. Just how could he tolerate such heat? The furnace keeper pulled out a long, metal shaft that had been waiting in the fire to be used.

"Stop! Please!" Valentine pleaded as the red-hot slab drew near. The guards ignored his protests. "Wait!" But they didn't wait. The guard thrust the burning metal into his chest, right in the middle between his heart and collar bone. He screamed out in agony and sounded more like a wounded animal than a human as the flat end of the shaft seared his chest. He heard his skin sizzling beneath the sounds of his own screams. The scent of burning flesh assailed his nose, and his eyes dripped out tears against his will.

The torture had only lasted a few moments, but Valentine felt as if this indignity could never be washed away - and neither could the emblem burned into his chest. The furnace keeper placed the shaft back into the fire and Valentine's guard kept dragging him. Where to, he didn't know. He tried to make sense of the situation as they dragged him across the rocky floor. He didn't know who these people were, or what they wanted with him. As he looked down at his chest and saw his flesh still bubbling from the severe burn, he figured out one thing for certain. He was branded a slave.