Chapter 6.

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By supper time Sires finally comprehended what Matt had been trying to tell him. He was making his way to the mess hall when a man, looking to be about thirty, approached him. Sires hesitated.

"Sires?"

"Yes?" he replied in English.

The man spoke in Sires' native tongue. "X wanted me to make sure you attend the meeting in the auditorium tonight."

Sires wasn't aware of the fact The Compound had an auditorium. "Where is it?"

"In the basement."

Much to Sires' surprise, the man shoved him then. Sires stumbled a moment, then gained his bearings. He glared, balling his hands into fists. The shorter man approached him, sticking his index finger at Sires.

"I'm not X's messenger, and I'm sure as hell not his lap dog." He sneered cruelly. "He only has one slot for that role, and it's already taken." He shoved Sires again. "You had better learn English fast, boy."

"Stop shoving me!"

"Be there at seven."

"But...I have classes then."

"Classes are canceled, idiot." Without another word, he turned and left.

Punch him. Maim him. Scalp him. hissed the voice in his head.

"Scalping would be maiming him," Sires muttered to himself.

No. Maiming someone leaves room for their surviving. People always die when you scalp them.

Sires shoved his hands in his pockets, glaring at the floor as he made his way to the mess hall for his dinner. "I'm not having this conversation with you."

The voice in his head laughed.

Sires had no idea how to get to the basement. Ten minutes before seven he exited the bunk room. After a few failed attempts at walking up to people and saying "meeting?", he gave up. He was only being met with glares and still no idea where this auditorium was.

He decided to make his way to the main hall where the front entrance was. Sure enough, it seemed as though everyone was headed in the same direction. Wordlessly Sires followed the stream of people. This led him to a set of double doors that he had always assumed was some sort of janitorial closet.

It wasn't. Everyone poured downstairs. Sires followed suit, making it a point to not look at anyone.

The room at the bottom of the steps was vastly different than any other part of the building. Sires stopped walking, stunned as he drank in the surroundings.

The floor was carpeted with crushed red velvet. Comfortable seating, wooden chairs covered with padded dark brown leather, filled the room in four sections of half circles. The room could accommodate a few hundred people, and the seats were nearly completely filled.

The walls were a dark eggshell in color, almost yellow. Brass candle holders aligned the walls, the candles all lit. At the front of the room was a huge stage, the floor a polished black wood. A single black podium stood front and center; a strangely ornate gold desk lamp was affixed to the front. The stage was sectioned off by red velvet curtains, which were currently tied open with thick golden rope, heavy tassels hanging from the ends.

Against the back wall was a gargantuan projection screen that spanned the width of the wall. And, possibly most impressive, was a huge wooden chandelier that hung in the very middle of the room. This too held real candles; Sires wondered if they would eventually drip onto people's heads.

It never occurred to him just how many people made up The Compound, but seeing them all in one room was impressive. Sires suddenly felt self-conscious though. He appeared to have made a mistake. Everyone was wearing the dress clothes that had been provided to them; button down, black, long sleeved shirts with black slacks and polished dress shoes. Sires, however, had come in his civilian black pants and a long sleeved black shirt. His boots were still muddy from running in the forest earlier.

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