The Circle

Chapter Five

I awake, my head still sore from The Protector's punch, in a cold room. The smell of damp and sweat fill my nostrils, as I gain my sense of smell back, yet I have not opened my eyes. I don't know where I am or what the room looks like. The pungent smell puts me off from opening my eyes for a few minutes; leaving me time to reflect. Ion is dead my thoughts squeal and I can feel a horrible, warm, blockage in my throat that's stopping the tears from falling out my eyes, which I soon open.

I look around the room. Nothing but darkness. It reminds me of the fear of the dark that I had when I was a boy- now I realised why I had it: fear of what's there. My senses start to flood back and I can feel the ground. A rusty metal, like, substance keeps my body from falling into the abyss of the dark. The substance makes my hairs stand up, making them prickle the back of my neck and stab the ground forcing me to stand. Reluctantly, against my heart's wishes I stand; facing my fear as I do. Don't look forward I think to myself.

As I stand, my legs start to give in. They must have taken quite a hit from those evil troopers and the bottom of them sting. It feels like I have needles sticking into my legs, the bottom of them anyway, and I attempt to look at them. Of course, I didn't see anything, it was dark. I reach to roll my trouser legs down and that's when I realise.

I have no clothes on.

It's cold, I thought, well... I wonder why. I start pacing. Up and down to try and warm myself up, forgetting that its dark. Again. This time it costs me as I walk straight into something and hit my head forcing me into a three second trance. I quickly shake this off and begin to worry; like I probably should have been doing before. Where, actually, am I?

My head starts to spin, this time not from pain or hitting it, with thoughts. Thoughts of where I actually could be, as I am still facing a wall, or whatever it is. I run my hands down the wall trying to think of where I could be until my brain stops complying. It's not stopped complying fully though as I still have the sense of touch and I realise what I am touching is not a wall. It's a smooth wooden object that doesn't give me a shiver down my spine when I touch it like everything else in this dust mite frenzied room. It's not like anything else and I can feel heat beyond it, heating my body and my heart. This gives me the belief that I can escape out of this dank room. I start to smother the wall with my hands; feeling everything, extra careful, to see if I can find out what this actually is. My hands keep going until they tell me stop.

A material that has its heat sucked out, a rare form of gloom, coming from this strange scarce material. I finger the, harsh feeling texture, extra cautiously- this could be a trap from the checker. I gently go around it, over, over and over again, until I reach a hole. I hole that feels like a lock. Shouldn't it be gushing light through it? I begin to feel it with great interest, tracing my finger around the circle, it's not a circle. It's a specific shape, a circle and then a line. It finally occurs to me. There should be a key. A key to freedom, well I say freedom, Lushein doesn't have such a thing. A key to get me out of here.

My heart stops as I realise, I need to find a key to get out. Seriously, not another game that is being ran by The Checker; I mustn't give in to him like I already have. Giving him what he wants... more blood on his hands. Ions blood on his hands. My mind wonders for a while making me show emotion to the green light in the corner of the room, which I have just notice, watching my every move. Judging my behaviour. Truth is, I don't even know what I'm going to do, I'm in game mode and I will rise to the challenge unlike Ion and Dad. They were both defeated and died in pain with no dignity. I will not fail like them, they showed weakness towards the capital and I won't.

I start scarpering along the floor, crawling, cutting my bare knees as I go. Blood gushes, I can feel the wet, sticky, like substance smothering my knees but I must carry on. I move my hands around like an undesirable reading Brail; the shrapnel floor cuts and destroys the first layer of skin, dryer every time, not wet, just dry and hard making them call out in pain. I rummage through holes where rats hide from the capital, in fear of what might happen to them, and they brush pass my hand as if to say, good luck, the last person here died and then I continue.

My hands want to give in and my arms are killing me, it feels like I'm getting tortured. Hang on, I am. I'm getting watched for entertainment; Elin and The Checker are probably loving this. A young vulnerable floor on his hands and knees, no clothes protecting him, in excruciating pain. It's probably worse than getting their worst. I'm finally starting to lose hope when my hand crawls over something. I hear a ting, like metal being dropped on the floor but a softer sound to what the shrapnel, like, floor makes. I scuff my hands back to it again and then reach. I grasp it with the energy I've got left, yet still trying to conserve for when I get out of this room, forgetting the blood pouring out my hands and the pins sticking into them, stinging them harshly like hornets- the poisonous ones- that are in The Circle: well it's what I imagine they feel like.

I, finally, start tracing the shape of what I can only think is what I need. A key. I'm still not sure though, it could be a lethal hand trap, because that's what the capital likes to do... play games, but I'm still going to hold it. Hold it tight, making sure that it makes my hands scream in pain, this pain is joy; making me feel a sense of pride and dignity. I think I've beaten the capital. But then I remember, I've got to crawl back along this battlefield again. The sense of dread fills me, not more cuts, and obliterates my false, wall I had built up in my head, sense of pride.

My legs start to tremble as I balance, myself, crawling across the grit once more. I struggle as I hit a trap, fumbling the key up into the air. I need to catch it; I've never been good at that. My legs sting as my left foot is trapped. Claws grasp my leg making it pour more blood out. The blood gushes, adding to the difficulties of reaching the door, filling my foot with a sticky substance. More blood. I know I need to reach the door.

The key jumps as I jolt my leg, causing more pain, making sure I catch the gold. I panic as the time seems to go in slow motion, as my hands claw through the thick air, reaching for the key. I then feel wind pass my hands, a skimming sort of wind from when I used to play Gorball in school, almost catching the gold as it falls. I need to go for it.

I dive onto the floor creating a blood bath from the newly, just made from the dive, cuts. I've caught it. A sense of relief flows throughout my body, although it probably would have been better to have died than deal with the capital, as I stand, finally, and reach for the door. My hand shakes as I try and find the lock in the door making it a struggle to do a basic shape sorter, which I could do when I was younger. When the key is in, ready to be turned, I take a big breath. A sigh. MY head spins with confusion of if that actually just happened and then I turn the key. The door swings open as if somebody has just forced it open as if somebody is there. I stagger out of hell and start to feel the wrath of the capital; I'm sure this won't be the first or last time I feel it, and then I feel a hand.

I turn around to see The Checker, three Protectors and Elin waiting. Waiting for me to talk.