The Edge of Honour

Chapter 37

Morgan's POV:

I wondered if I should scream as Francois pulled me through the door, away from Gorran, away from the only form of safety I previously had. I could feel the tears threatening to edge out from the corner of my eye, but I knew that that would be showing weakness which was something I could not afford to do.

He dragged me down a wooden staircase, which creaked louder with every step we took. His thick nails dug into my wrist. If I struggled at that moment I may have been able to overcome him. In the end I saw no point. April and Jet had told us to do exactly as we were told to and for now that was the only advice I had from them, I would honour my promise to them.

At the end of the stairs, there stood a looming metal door. I could see several chains and locks running the length of it as we paused at that bottom step.

"Ready for your punishment?" Francois laughed as he began to unbolt the door, holding tightly onto my wrists with his remaining hand. 

He propelled me forwards into the room and I listened as I heard lock after lock and chain after chain being secured on the other side of the door. I was alone now.

The room was small barely enough room for three people to lie down side by side. The floor was bare stone paving. Large cracks ran through it so that the ground shifted quite dramatically if I misjudged my step. The walls had once been painted white, but the majority of it had fallen off a long time ago. It lay scattered across the floor among the feces of creatures which I did not want to think about.

Far above, much too high for any attempt at an escape, there was a small window. Despite its small size, several steel bars ran both horizontally and vertically across it. The window was the only source of light in the dark, cramped room. The sun had begun to set and I was about to be left alone with only my thoughts and fears for company.

Eventually, I felt my head droop as I sat with my back against the wall at the furthest corner of the room. Sleep brought with it the only possible relief I could hope from my situation.

I wondered if this was my punishment. I could deal with being locked in a room without food for a day, but the prospect seemed alarmingly unlikely to me.

Hours later, I woke up to the sound of voices at the other side of the door. metal clinked against metal- its sound seeping through the door frame and reverberating around the room.

"The boss said that we had to bring you some food," a middle-aged, balding man said. I held my tongue, determined not to seem frightened or ask any questions. I would not give them the satisfaction of knowing that this was affecting me.

"Said you'll need your strength for later." Francois grinned as he handed me my meal. The plate was an old bowl that looked as if it had belonged to a pet that had been deceased for many years. It appeared that it had not been washed since then either, judging by the amount of white fluffy mould that had grown all over it.

The food itself was barely touching the bowl, but this provided little conciliation to my stomach. As I stared at the food before I wondered if it would be a wiser decision to starve myself to death.

The thick slice of bread was as hard as a rock. A green growth had taken it over starting from one end and rising up throughout it. The mould had added an extra layer to the already thickened slice. Dotted around the slice, were white spores similar to those on the bowl. The hairs on top moved as I brushed my finger over them while trying to decide on the best action.

My stomach was growling incessantly, but I did not believe that the bread would improve it any bit. 

The cup beside it was thankfully clean, but as I raised it to my lips, I was greeted by an alarming stench. Peering inside the cup, I saw the thick cream like chunks floating on top of a very watery milk mixture. The sour milk smelled seemed to become stronger over time, no matter how far away I pushed the tray.

As I began to ponder how many bacteria were living on the tray before, I could feel my body growing weaker by the second. Every muscle in it ached for sleep and craved for the nutrition which it so desperately needed.

Remembering Francois's words about needing my strength for later, I tried to find the areas of the bread that were most edible. I knew that I would likely see this later in a liquid, but possibly more appetizing form. For now it would have to provide me with a basic form of strength. Drinking the milk mixture was an impossibility as my stomach twisted and threatened to return its contents to the room, quicker than my body could absorb them.

I returned to the corner of the room and wondered what was happening to Gorran. I knew that he would be worried about me. I hoped that he would not decide to be a hero and try and rescue me as that would only place us both in peril. Trying to distract myself, I began to contemplate what my real punishment would be.

I thought of many situations, but in the end I could not decide on a single one. Thankfully, my crime was unlikely to warrant killing me, but I was sure that their punishment would involve physical torment for me. No sooner had I decided upon my faith, than it began to come through.

The two men returned to the room, grins spread across their faces like wild wolves waiting for the perfect moment to strike their prey. To my relief, I saw no sign of weapons in their possession.

The first one caught me off guard, I thought someone would speak before they began. Instead, I received a swift upper jab to my nose. A rush of crimson blood swiftly followed, the hot liquid rushing down my face, as blow after blow continued to pound against me. My head was spinning uncontrollably.

If I had been able to see clearly, I am sure that I would have been able to fend them off, to protect myself. Instead, I stood still and closed my eyes as their fists continued to pound me.

"You better never give out any more information to anyones, do you understand?" a voice echoed, but it was barely a whisper to me. Then everything went dark.

I awoke later to a room where one small section across from the window was bathed in early morning sunlight. Slowly, I made my way, over to it. Every movement I made had me grimacing in pain and more than once I found myself leaving our cries of pain.

As I looked around the room, I realised that my left eye was still closed. Haltingly, I raised my hand to it, wincing as my fingers found the large raised bump where my eye was. My hand trailed the rest of my face. Streaks of dried blood were evident throughout and many raised bumps lay distributed unevenly across my face. I did not dare to contemplate what my face looked like at that moment.

This had been a mistake. I should not be here. Jet had promised that he would be by side through everything. Then Gorran and April had assured me of the same thing. Yet, here I was alone.

I had chosen to walk this path, but more than anything I wanted to turn back to return to the day in the woods when I had discovered my powers. If I had stopped one of those shoppers and explained about the man in the woods, I would never have received that phone call. It was likely that I would not know of my powers. I would be safe and secure in foster care once more. As more as I hated every family I had been placed in, at that moment I would have done anything for the security they provided.

However, I had not done those things. Instead I had accepted an invitation to meet Jet- a complete stranger. I had joined an organisation where my life was in constant danger. I had placed myself in this situation and now there was nowhere to run.

I was alone, bloody and bruised. All hope of making it safely out of the French compound had quickly drained from my body.