Chapter One- Quinn
I awake in a dimly lit room. Strugglingly I move my aching body until every ligiment is awake. I seem to be one of three kids in this mysterious room. One boy appears to be around my age, his black, messy hair is shiny with grease. The slicked-back blondie is younger; probably around 9 or 10 years old. Both of these boys are fast asleep, though I don't know why. I have a sudden feeling of nausea, and my breakfast from this morning makes its reappearance onto the dark tiled floor. I start to cough and gag, which causes the older boy to stir and eventually he opens his bright blue eyes. He shoots a weird look at me and crinkles his nose with disgust as he spots the vile sight of my vomit.
''Where are we?" He asks. I don't answer, I was wondering myself. The small room is held with three hard, uncomfortable chairs, which we are strapped to. The rope is giving me a rough burn on my wrists and ankles. It just builds onto my discomfort. I can't see what's behind me either because there seem to be metal bars at each side of my head so it is hard to see to my left and right.
"Who's he?" I ask, hoping he would have the slightest idea.
"I don't know but apparently he's only 10 years old. Poor guy." We both turn to look at him. He's so young, yet he seems at peace. "I'm Daron. And you?" Asks Daron.
"Quinn." I mutter unpleasently.
"Hi Quinn. How were you taken?" He likes to talk a lot, I tell myself.
"I... don't know." I respond.
A loud shriek comes from my left, from the 10 year old. I look to see him shivering and whimpering. His eyes snap open and he bursts into tears.
"Who- who are y-you?" He says through clenched teeth. He keeps exchanging looks with both Daron and I. Daron speaks before I can.
"I'm Daron, that's Quinn." He gestures his head towards his right, to me.
"What's your name sweetie?" I say very calmly, trying not to scare him. "...Max..." He anxiously replies.
"Do you remember anything from where you came from Max?" I ask.
"No. Not really. All I remember is that I have a family that loves me and misses me. I have to find a way to get back home!" Max cries with tears trickling down his face.
"Well you're out of luck 'cause we're not getting out of here. And unlike you, I don't want to get back to my old life. My old life stunk." Daron mutters.
"What do you mean?" I say, puzzled.
"No I don't. I don't have a home, okay? I don't have a family that loves me. I live on the streets and eat from the leftovers in the garbage cans outside of restaurants. I bathe in a nearby river and even then I don't have any soap so sometimes, I don't even bother. My only friends are birds and mice and other animals I come across at the river." Says Daron sharply. "And don't say you feel bad for me, because I don't wanna hear it."
Max and I are looking at him with great concern, I guess he detected that from my eyes.
"So how'd you end up here?" I ask. He looks at the floor, his eyes squinting with concentration trying to remember.
"Oh! Okay, I remember, sort of. So I was sitting outside some building when I saw two very tall, and large men picking Max up by his arms aross the street. I watched for a minute and saw that he was trying to get away. I yelled something that I can't remember, but they didn't hear me. Or they just didn't care. The men shoved Max into a car with him kicking and screaming for help. I ran across the street stopping a few cars along the way and I punched one of the men in the back of the head; I knocked him out ha! I told the other to take me instead of Max. But of course two is better than one so he took both of us. I tried to save Max but I just made things worse."
"Why did you try to save me, Daron?" Max squeaks through his emotion.
"I don't know... I felt it necessary to help you. You're younger than me and I didn't want you to suffer for whatever reason we're in here for. I'm sorry that they took you as well. I tried, I really did." says Daron, looking in his lap.
"I- I don't know what to say." says Max. I give a small smile.
O O O
We had been stuck in this room for several days now, only getting to eat two times a day. Which I have to say is more than I usually ate at home. I wasn't poor at home, but we didn't have a lot. Only my unworking parents (My mother working hard to clean and cook the only food I could gather in the woods, and my father working in the mines.) could pay for the neuturals. Hydro, electricity, water. But my parents didn't seem to have enough money for me. They couldn't pay for me. I remember now how I was taken. The government had come to my mama's house and grabbed me and left. She didn't even get an explanation, but when the door was slammed shut, I heard her scream finally translating what just happened. I didn't get to say good-bye.
"WHEN ARE WE GETTING OUT OF THIS EFFING PLACE?!?" Daron shouts. He has been gaining aggravation through these past couple of days. Well, we all have. Max can't seem to stay still, and he randomly screams for help... even though no one is coming for us. I, myself, am getting irritated.
The door infront of us slides open and a large man wearing an all black suit, with a gun at his side appears. "Daron Ramsey, Quinn Mazzali, Max Compton- come with me." says the expressionless man. He comes and unties all three of us, as we all examine the deep cuts on our wrists.
The man ushers us out of the room, standing so much as an inch away from me, invading all of my personal space. Where is he taking us? I ask myself, loads of paranoia flooding through me.
We walk down long numerous hallways, every wall covered in photographs of different kids. All looking incredibly young. The question is... why?
"I have them here, Sir." The man says to an older man dressing in all black. He, though, has no sign of a gun which makes me feel more at ease.
"Thank you, Clide. You are free to go." says the man in a very deep voice. His masculine voice matches him perfectly. He is very large, more on the built side. His hair is a dark brown, along with his skin. He has a goatee, that has some grey hairs sticking out. My guess is he is near the age of 45. "Sit in those chairs, NOW!" yells the man.
We all jump, and obey. I am almost at a run when I reach the three chairs. The chairs are huge. They are a mahogany colour with a back pillow... not what you would expect.
"Daron! You're first! Pick your material!" he yells, "And you two!" he points to Max and I. "You now will respond to me as 'Sir' or 'Sir Barrett'!
"Yes sir..." Max and I say in sync.
Daron looks around, unsure of what he has to do. I have never seen even a photo of a weapon, and this room is filled with them. Daron looks at both of us, eying me most. Sir yells some more instructions to Daron. He picks up a large blade labeled 'Trident'. He walks toward a hard human anatomy based figure. He starts to raise the weapon above his head and weaves the handle through his fingers, twirling it. It is now moving fairly fast and spinning. After a few seconds of this movement, he throws the blade at the dummy, stabbing the heart. My mouth drops in amazement. How does he know how to do that?
