STONE

Helios

"I'll be off to the mines, Lard. Please get better.." Trippy stated gently as he stepped out of his cell, a pair of guards following him.
Over the past few weeks, his cellmate Lard had been getting even worse with his health. Lard has continued to reassure Trippy that he's fine, but it was hardly believable. Most days, Lard could barely get off the cot.
The Slave Traders did nothing to help except to not bother to get him out, so Trippy told Lard that he would do enough work for the both of them until he got better, of which Lard didn't argue.

For weeks, Trippy worked really hard, getting up his strength and was doing more work than majority of the others and alot of the workers were astonished by his strength and endurance. Never had they seen a human perform like him. Alot questioned if he even was human. He seemed too agile, strong and his features weren't quite human. The most notable was the points of his ears.
One day, after a long shift, Trippy gets in the inspection line with the other slaves to be checked over for vandalism or in case anyone tries to sneak anything valuable. Trippy never has gotten in trouble as of yet. Lard didn't want anything bad to happen to him, so he made sure the young man understood all the rules, whether they were written rules or not.
As he shuffled his way through, he sees a few guards beat a few slaves then drag them away to their cell, something typical that happens often. "You would think they would get the hint to not steal anything. They always get caught. And what will they do with their find anyway. It's not like they're goinganywhere." Trippy thought to himself then sighs quietly, dismissing the thought.

Life as a miner was really cool a few months ago but with hearing stories from the other slaves and Lard, the mines were just an everyday bore. His head was foggy from any previous life before coming here, but it was still there, like an invitation to come home. A calling to his name. He wanted to know what grass felt like again, what the different trees and food and animals look like. The smell of the wind vs. The smell of the sweaty slave in front of him. The difference of the Sun's heat and the humidity that was down here. What real sunlight looked and felt like instead of this artificial light in the glass bulbs that was just a bright stain on the wall. Heck, he just wanted to know what water felt like on his body than just down his throat. He too smelled really bad, and he knew it. But there was nothing he could do about it unless he was chosen to be shipped somewhere.
Finally, it was his turn to be inspected and he was wrong. The guards smelled worse than he did. He scrunches his nose a bit as they check him over, wishing they worked quicker.

"You're Mr. Hotshot in the mines. What's your secret? You been feeding on the weak slaves while we aren't looking?" One of the guards ask as he snickered, patting Trippy down, seeking for anything that could be hidden.

The other guard slightly shoves at Trippy and then pokes him with the butt of his stun gun, "Yeah boy, whacha doing? You ain't no human. Humans die too quickly around here."

Trippy ignores them for the most part, knowing that it will just get him in trouble if he started anything, and that's exactly what the guards wanted. If he started something, the guards had permission to beat him. So he just nods and bids them ado. But as he does, a scent ran across his nose. Sweet and crisp, enough to make his mouth water. One of the guards had something in his pocket, and curiosity got the better of him. Trippy goes to walk away but he trips over his feet and bumps into one of the guards.

"Hey, watch where you're going, scum!" The guard shouts and shoves the young man aside. "Get to yer cell, before we beat you into it."