Xylia

Fifteen

Suffocating. Dreary. Depressing.

Those three words summarized the prison cell that we were tossed into. Four bleak walls trapped the three of us, each stained with mold, blood, and other bodily fluids. Our chains had been discarded when we entered our new living arrangements, giving us one less thing to worry about during our stay.

The patter of water along the tiled floors were my source of sanity within the prison cell. Sitting adjacent to Volkan and Drea I lean back against the damp walls and distract myself with its soothing rhythm.

Drip drip drip.

Drea remained uncharacteristically silent during the whole arrest. Peering at the girl, I noted her slouched position, metal leg hugged tight against her limp form; however, despite her demeanor, her eyes remained sharp, attentive and observant as she assessed the confines of our cell.

Drip drip drip.

My gaze wandered over to Volkan.
He just looked tired. The dim lighting of the cell casted a warm glow on his rich skin, highlighting the tired bags hung deeply underneath bloodshot eyes. A heavy yawn escaped chapped lips while he battled the weight of exhaustion in vein swaying back and forth on his side. Fatigue flooded me at his weary form.

Drip drip drip.

My mind was a flurry of thoughts, contrasting against my bushed appearance. I inhaled a deep breath in, refocusing on the falling droplets.

Drip drip- BANG!

"Enjoy your new company," the guard spat before hauling a new body inside the cell. The prisoner stumbled a few steps, their drink sloshed around spilling onto the floor.

"You made me spill my drink!" Her words were slurred but resounded against the thick walls. The door slamming shut was her only response.

She let out another strangled scream before flipping off the door, plopping on the ground carelessly. Finally noticing her audience, she took another swig of her drink before addressing us.

"Before you ask," she stated seriously, pointing an accusatory finger our way, "no you cannot have any of my drink." Then she plopped onto the ground and laid back with a snore, sleeping soundly. A moment passed between the three of us.

"What the actual fuck." Drea barked out, leaning onto her legs. Volkan was plastered against the wall with alarm, scooting away from the slumbering girl. The prisoner in question rolled onto her back, flinging her hand on Volkan's foot the other hand cupping her precious drink.

"She touched me!" Volkan shrieked, poking the offending limb.

"Just move her hand," Drea commented, "she looks harmless anyways." I had to agree with Drea on that note, trailing back to the unconscious body.

The girl had a plump, almost chubby form. Rounded cheeks were smushed against the ground, tainted with pink from exertion. Her eyes were catlike, small and almond shaped as they trapped the  sharpest shade of gold in their drunken depths. Choppy raven strands spilled out of a messy bun and tickled the edge of a dirty bottle.

Volkan shifted on his feet warily. He prodded her hand with his foot once. Twice. Yelping when she turned on her side.

"Puppets will end the world..." she murmured, drool streaming down her puckered lips. I huddled with Volkan and Drea.

"So how long are we gonna play this waiting game?" Drea inquired, corking her lips into a sour expression. I ran a hand through my tangled hair and breathed out.

" I want to say until Everest comes back with the information..."

"But?" Volkan chimed in. I tensed my shoulders. Although I'd intentionally strayed away from the idea of failure for our initial strategy, I wasn't ignorant enough to acknowledge the importance of a backup plan.