The Caverly Effect

Fifteen. Aero

Light...
Dark...
Light...
Dark...

But mostly, dark. Consuming blackness. Overtaking my vision. Occasionally, I opened my eyes, only slightly, just beginning to gather my senses, before a cloth smothered my mouth,

And then I returned back to darkness.

Funny, how when you pass out, it's like no time goes my before waking up? A dream-less, thoughtless, worry free sleep. That you can't be shaken awake from. At least- not easily. When you wake up, confused to where you are? Why you are laying on the cold hard ground? Then it comes back to you, unless of course you pass out again before you can remember anything.

Until I opened my eyes. Forgot, then remembered. And wasn't smothered with that foul smelling cloth. But I was- chained to a hard medal chair. Then it hit me like a bang. Ow! I grimaced, at the pounding, throbbing pain in the side of my head. Closing my eyes, squinting them, despratly trying to get rid of my headache.

"Hurts, doesn't it?" I heard a male voice. I must have voiced out loud "ow". Lifting me head up, I opened my eyes, and glared at him, with as much hatred I could muster. Now that I was looking at him, I saw that he had a small amount of short light brown hair, and was going bald slightly. He wore a black UFA jacket, and tight black pants.

"Let me go," I demand, loathing him with every fiber of my being. He actually laughed.

"You, aren't really in the position to make orders, are you?" Before I could answer, he continued. "If you cooperate, your time here will be a lot less- what's a nice way to put this? Less painful." Gathering up all my courage, I spat on his face. He closed his eyes, and slowly used his sleeve to wipe it off.

"I will never, coorperate, not for you," I tell him in defiance.

"What's your name?" He asked me. The question threw me off guard.

"Aero?" I say uncertainty. He chuckled.

"Great start, now. I would like to keep this friendly, don't you agree, Aero?" He asked.

"It stopped being friendly when you kidnapped me." I spat. He narrowed his eyes. He grabbed a fitful of my red hair, now dirty from not showering in days. He forced me to look at him, with one hand grabbing my hair, the other on the cold arm of the chair. I ignored the pain that came with the pull of his fingers tightening.

"Where are they?" He asked, looking me directly in the eyes.

"Does it fill you with pride, to hurt an eleven year old boy tied up? I mean, the odds are a little unfair. Maybe if one of my hands were untied, I could be a match for your pathetic self," I bluff, trying to distract him. He let go of my hair, but the relief was short lived, because he slapped me across the face so hard, I still felt the sting several seconds afterwards. I heard it's echo, in the large medal room we were in. I turned back at him, and refused to show any weakness. I'm too stubborn for that.

"I know you were with Fawn Garcia. Tell us where she is." He demanded.

"I can't tell you that. I don't know." I answer, sort of truthfully. I was punched, hard, in the eye. My head was forcefully pushed back against the back of the chair. I heard him cuss,

And then I returned back to darkness.