Fate's Vinculum

Chapter 7.

The next day was spent in fear. When Sires finally caught a moment alone with Matt, he explained to him as best he could what X had told him, how his schedule was set to change and he would be taught privately by X. Matt seemed to understand, but didn't say anything. Sires was disheartened further when Matt looked sad for a moment, and then abruptly changed the subject.

Lunch and dinner came and went, and Sires found he couldn't eat either meal. Finally, when his last training class was over, he made his way to X's office. He went there as slowly as he could, but even so he found himself standing before the metal door much sooner than he had hoped.

Breaking out into a sweat, Sires knocked. When X answered the door, Sires was horrified to see him dressed in a black silk robe. Sires froze, his mouth turning to cotton.

"Please, come in."

When Sires couldn't, X grabbed his arm and dragged him in, slamming the door behind shut.

A while later classes let out. Most everyone walked past the bare hallway leading to X's office, minding their own business, paying no heed to the screams and cries that were coming from behind the shut door. However, two students that walked past couldn't stop from commenting.

"Sounds like X has found a new play toy."

"Oh well," the other student replied, "I'm just happy it's not me."

They laughed.

~

Sires spent the rest of his time at The Compound like that. When he wasn't in class or the mess hall, he was doing his damnedest to avoid his abuser. Unfortunately that was difficult, nearly unavoidable.

X insisted Sires still study English after-hours in his quarters, privately. Additionally, any time Sires screwed something up, his punishment was spent behind the closed door with X. Sometimes X would simply show up in the middle of the night without Sires having done anything wrong, clamp his mouth over Sires' mouth, and force him to the fifth floor office.

It took but a year for Sires to become numb to the abuse. Every leer, every advance, every unwelcome stare...It meant nothing. Even during the act Sires just shut his eyes and emptied out his head, thinking of the calming white curtains blowing gently in the breeze, waiting for it to be done with.

The entire situation became a sick game to Sires. The voice in his head was now a constant, and it no longer bothered Sires. Sires would banter back and forth with the mental intruder, both Sires and the voice guessing what perverse thing X would do to him next.

There was also a small upside to Sires' position as the leader's bauble. He could get away with murder. Literally.

The day had started like any other. Slowly Sires opened his eye, and then the other. No one stirred, and the room was still dark. Sires found sleeping until the first bell was becoming increasingly harder to do. As his paranoia and distaste of everyone around him grew, so did his insomnia.

That day, however, Sires' normal blasé disposition towards life was gone. In its wake was anger. As he stared at the sleeping face of one of his fellows, allowing his eyes to unfocus, his muscles became taught. A headache began to scratch at the back of his head. When the wake up bell finally rang, Sires found himself in an absolutely sour mood.

The disquiet didn't leave him. During lunch, he barely said anything to Matt (after a point, Matt gave up trying to hold a conversation with him). Sires found himself unable to stop glaring at everyone who passed him. It finally culminated during his first melee weapons class of the day.

"Today we will be doing something different," the weapons instructor declared at the start of class.

Sires figured as much; first of all, folding chairs had been brought in, and the class had been ushered to sit in them. All along the back wall was a rack that hadn't been there previously. It was filled with all sorts of weapons—actual weapons. Up until then any training was done with wooden replications.