The Door

Chapter 11

The mayor shifted uncomfortably in his seat. "They are criminals Everett, I want you to remember that. If they stay alive, they will continue to reek Havok and destruction. Do not bring emotion into this Everett. You did your job and you did it well, and now we will handle it from here," He pushed Everett out of the room. "If we require your services again, we will call for you, ok? For now, just go home and relax."

The door was closed in his face. He walked away, out into the street. Then he remembered. Kaden. His spirits lifted and he sprinted towards Ocidat's. He practically burst through the door, and came face to face with Kaden.

Ocidat's face was as bright as the morning sun.

"Hi Everett," Kaden said shyly. She grabbed him into a hug. His grief for Clarin returned.

"Hi Kaden,"

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Everett tip-toed through the hallway. The pained, lifeless faces stared up at him. A few people he recognized, but no one acknowledged him. The barred windows cast an eerie glow, like the moon was haunting him. He slunk away from the cells and walked in the middle of the room. Hopeless moans echoed throughout the chambers.

Rowan's face lifted immediately at the sound of footsteps. "Everett," He whispered. "Oh, my Whisper Everett help me," He ran to the cell bars, and reached out to Everett.

"Rowan," Everett cried in relief.

"I'm the only one still alive, Everett." His pained stained face glowed in the moonlight. "TCOWA is.... Dead."

Everett looked away, biting back tears. His mind flickered to the moment when they were all drowned in the sorrows of the loss of two members. They had more life in them then anyone else could have even dreamed.

Everett suddenly grabbed Rowan's shirt roughly and pulled him towards him.
"I'm not helping a traitor," He let go and walked away.

"What?"

Everett turned back. "You were the reason Clarin died, and don't try to deny it. You're worse than the Whisper himself."

Rowan gaped at Everett. "Do you think I burned them down?"

Everett glared at Rowan.

"How dare you accuse me of that? TCOWA is my life, why would I burn it down?"

"You burned the school down." Everett mumbled.

"What? Why would I do a thing like that?"

"Oh, give it up, ok? They might forgive you, but I won't."

"Everett, please listen to me," Rowan cried. "I will die in here if you don't help me,"

Everett looked away.

"Please, Everett... I don't want to die," He whispered.

Silence filled the air.

"I will never trust you again," Everett's words sounded hollow in the chill, musty air. "But I will not be responsible for your death,"

Rowan hung his head. "Thank you,"

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He had wanted to escape, but after such a long time, he started to accept that he was trapped. He had no idea who he was, or how he got into this blank prison cell. He only remembers his own name: Axle.

The piercing sound of the speakers adjusting sliced into his head, causing a headache that can only be described by someone who feels them multiple times a day. He rubbed his neck, furrowing his brow. He sat up from the back-wrenching position from the cold hard floor, resting his head on his hands. He sighed, as the next song started.

"2/3... Allegro scherzando... Forte..."

He recited. It went on. Axle hummed to the tune, swaying his head ever so slightly. The beautiful classical music was nothing more than a ritual to him. His crossed legs started to go numb. He groaned as the pinching needles danced up and down them. He shuffled to his feet. He shook his legs, trying to wake them.

He started to pace the cell. His stomach belched. He crossed his arms and looked up at the ceiling. Nothing. He kept pacing in protest.

The squealing of rusty metal grinding together filled Axle's ears, perking his head up. A hatch on the ceiling slowly slid open, to be followed by a mechanical hand extending downwards. He would have ripped that hand of its hinges ages ago, but he knew better then to bite the hand that feeds him (Literally).

A fragile china plate was placed down in front of him. Black beans oozed into the brown rice, turning it into a soupy substance. Axle didn't care. He only ate two times a day, so he made it count. He had impeccable manners considering his situation. While eating, he carefully picked up the only thing that he found in his cell when he first arrived. A letter.

Dear Axle,

We know you may be confused, but don't be. You are here for a reason. Please cooperate and you may be released soon. Thank you for your help.

-Tolve.co

Axle scooted to the door, feeling the refreshing chill from the metal shoot up his back. He looked at the whitewashed plain walls of his room. There were no screws.

The room was about five by five feet. It was small, but enough. Axle sighed, leaning his head against the door. He longed to get out. He longed to be free.

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Creak!

Axle bolted up to the sound. His jaw dropped. The door was open. He looked wide eyed at it, not believing. He practically tip-toed to it, careful to not make a sound. The door might close again.

He ran his hand on the door frame, in complete shock. He peeked out of the doorway. He had never seen what was beyond this door.

"Hello?"

Silence. He hated silence.

"Ok, I'm coming out now!"

Nothing. He inched out of the cell. The iron walls echoed every step he took. Classical music was all he could hear. There were no other cells, no doors, no hallways. Just an endless amount of white. He could not see any light source, yet it stayed constant. An eerie glow, that was not bring, but not dim either.

He could not see any speakers, and still, the classical music did not get louder or quieter. He could not see an end to the white. It just went on. He looked back at his cell. At his home. A single tear clanged on the floor. He knew nothing would ever be the same again. And he was happy.

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He had been walking for hours now. At least, that's what it seemed. The only thing that reassured him to continue, what the contestant bang of his feet hitting the floor. Clang. Clang. Clang.

His whole body shivered, but not because he was cold. His stomach growled. Feeding time was three hours ago.

He ran his fingers through his long black hair. He had always wondered what he looked like. He had no idea what one should look like. He had never seen a human being before. Or at least, that's what he remembered. He walked and walked and walked. His legs felt like Jell-O. He wondered what would be at the end of this 'room'. Maybe someone who could tell him who he was. Maybe something that could help him begin his life again. If only.