by Samuel Small
As the girls stood over Jake and exchanged glances of confusion, he came to the realization that they were still on a time crunch. He stood up, wiped a tear from his eye, and turned to them, and the soft features of confusion hardened into knowing looks. They knew the significance of the fruit now and they had to take action before the government found out they knew. With no time to lose, Jake jumped to the first platform and landed hard. He turned to his comrades who looked bewildered. “We have to get to the training hall – quick.”
The training hall wasn’t far, and soon Jake and company were rushing through the dark tunnel once again, his chest heaving and his throat sore from taking in too much night air. He wasn’t sure if Lennon would be there, but it was the most likely scenario. They didn’t know where he lived, but he had to train excessively to be at the level of ability that he was.
Jake exited the tunnel, stumbling through the rough grass. The area was open, but with the shadows of the wall creeping to one side. Just outside of reach of those shadows stood Lennon, concentrating his energy and unleashing it into the sky. He had such a look of concentration on his face that Jake was sure he didn’t hear the three youths stumble into his space. His concentration and focus were captivating, and Jake’s mad dash slowed to a hypnotic walk as he watched him. Sara and Elizabeth seemed equally transfixed behind him.
Lennon let out a few more gigantic bursts of energy, roaring as he did, then dropped his pulsating arms to his side, nearly collapsing to his knees. As he panted, he turned his tired eyes to the three people studying him. He was so exhausted that it seemed to take effort for him to even smile.
“Hello, how can I help you at this late hour?”
“It’s—” Jake stopped abruptly and turned his head. How was he supposed to phrase something like this? Lennon was understanding, sure, but if he went and shattered his entire view of his government, he didn’t know how he’d react. His mind worked overtime and he thought he came up with something sensitive yet still to the point, so he looked back at Lennon, who seemed as patient as ever. “How much do you know about the average citizen here?” he asked.
“Average citizen? What’s this about?” Lennon placed a hand on his chin and swayed to one side. “That’s right, you’re kind of a history buff aren’t you? Must be a pretty big one, considering that this couldn’t wait until the morning. To answer your question, our average citizen is typically a farmer, he goes into the fields voluntarily and gathers food.”
“The most notable of which is?” Elizabeth said, stepping forward so she was next to Jake. Lennon stood up straight as she approached, likely because he thought this was Jake’s line of inquiry, but he answered her all the same.
“Most notably would be nuef, but I don’t see—”
“And I assume warrior-class citizens aren’t allowed to eat it?” Elizabeth said.
“No,” Lennon replied, an eyebrow raised.
“Have you ever considered why that might be?”
Lennon pursed his lips and eyed Elizabeth and Jake suspiciously. What had initially begun as an explanation was now almost an interrogation. Jake didn’t like her direct questioning, but Elizabeth’s firmness seemed to hit its mark. He could see that Lennon was thinking things over seriously, and they might be able to convince him.
“It’s mostly just an old rule, something dating from antiquity, so I don’t know why specifically. Maybe it makes you fat or something.”
“Only the general populous isn’t suffering from any kind of obesity epidemic,” Jake broke in, “and I’m willing to bet that consumption for the lower classes is somehow mandatory, isn’t it?”
“Well, yeah, but I wouldn’t say it’s mandatory. People are given a food ration, which contains all the core nutrients. We only farm so much food, so it usually rotates in cycles—”
“But this nuef is always included, correct?” Elizabeth finished for him. Lennon looked up and blinked, then crossed his arms.
“What’s this all about?” he asked.
It was a question Jake wasn’t sure he could answer. What was this all about? They suspected that the government was keeping a majority of its population purposefully ignorant by forcing them to digest a cognition-deteriorating drug? But to what end? Jake thought it had something to do with the Malice, but they only just showed up, and this society had to have had this practice for centuries.
“We’re not sure about the details but…”
“I think I can infer,” Lennon said, taking a heavy step forward. His features were rough, and Jake readied himself for an attack.
“The Grand Priest is the supreme authority around here and he’s been very patient with you, but if he finds out you’ve been snooping around – especially after he’s expressly forbidden it – he’s not going to be happy. As it is, your friend Dante might be out within a few days and you can be on your way safe and sound, but if he catches wind of this—”
“We won’t abandon you!” Sara shouted, her voice so firm that it caused even the powerful Lennon to jump. He fixed his wide eyes on her for a moment, as if she were some sort of rabid animal, then shook his head.
“There’s nothing to protect. Things aren’t perfect but—”
“That monster will be coming tomorrow,” Sara said, her eyes locking on Lennon and never blinking. “It murders your citizens, and they can’t do anything because they’re on this strange drug. Even though they’re helpless, the Grand Priest forbids you from fighting that thing. It’s perverse. It’s—” She clenched her fists and jerked away from him, as if looking at someone who could allow such an atrocity was sickening.
Lennon stared into the space Sara occupied but seemed to look past her. It looked like his mind was firing overtime, and so was Jake’s. He’d wondered why they’d give that drug to the populace, and Sara seemed to know the answer: to keep them passive, so that they had no ability to fight against the creature and perhaps the government itself. That begged the question why? Some deep-seated tradition? Did loyalty to the past really go that far?
“I’m not interested in a revolution if that’s what you’re talking about,” Lennon mumbled. Jake’s heart sank, and he was concerned about being arrested then and there, but Lennon looked up with blazing eyes. “However, I’m not just going to sit back and allow citizens to be killed.” He turned to Sara, commanding. “Tomorrow? You’re sure?”
She nodded.
“Then we’ll have to find a way to get your comrade out of prison quickly.”
Sara shook her head, a sad smile creeping up her face. “That won’t be necessary. I’m sure he’ll break out on his own.”
Lennon stopped for only a moment, looking at Sara as if she were crazy, but then he grinned. “Yeah, I doubt if anything can keep him contained for long. Which means…”
“We’ll have to find a way to keep the Sisters and those robed gentlemen occupied,” Elizabeth said.
“Dante will have that covered,” Sara said simply. Jake turned to her, an eyebrow raised, but she looked back the same way. “When he breaks out of prison, I mean.”
“Right,” Lennon said. “I can try to ensure that everyone goes to try to stop him.”
“That’ll leave us alone with the monster, at least temporarily,” Jake said, as the image of the black dragon roaring and stalking the island came into his mind. He wasn’t sure how he, Sara, and Elizabeth were supposed to fend off that giant thing.
“Don’t worry,” Lennon said, smacking Jake on the shoulder and breaking him out of his anxious reverie. “I’m sure that between Dante and I, we’ll be able to get away and back you guys up. You’ll just have to hold out for a little while.”
“Thank you, Lennon,” Sara said, “it takes a lot of courage to help those in need, especially when it isn’t the most convenient for you. I understand that we’re putting you in a difficult position.”
“They put me in a difficult position every day,” Lennon mumbled, looking into the distance. Jake thought back to the poor treatment he received from
those around him – the Grand Priest, the Sisters, and all because he was a male in a position that should be held by female. He imagined that Lennon didn’t have much to lose, considering he was treated poorly despite the fact that he tried so hard to gain their acceptance. Jake’s mind briefly shifted to the image of a certain orange-haired boy, and the thought that he might be in a similar position occurred to him briefly, but he shook his head.
“No way, Dante’s just a prick,” he mumbled.
***
There was shuffling outside the door and Dante opened his eyes, grinning fiercely. “Feeding time…” he mumbled.
Every time those bastards fed him he tried to break out. He figured he’d been at this for maybe two days based on the number of attempts, but he was starting to wear out the guards. At first they only sent two: Dante handled them quickly. Then they sent three for a while, but soon that went up to four, and one more was added each time. Dante figured it was because they were getting tired and needed backup, which meant he was whittling them down bit by bit.
The flickering light emanating from the hallway was blocked out, and Dante thought he could make out maybe seven pairs of feet. He rose to a stand, the grin spreading across his face more and more. Come on fuckers, open it.
Three light knocks on the door. “Lunch, prisoner…” the guard called weakly from the other side, then cracked the door open. Dante didn’t want to wait for the bastard to inch it open, and just kicked the damn thing all the way through. The seven guards stood wide-eyed as they took in his mad expression. One of the guard’s hand still floated over where the door handle just was, seemingly not yet realizing it was gone.
“Fuck yoooooooouuu!” Dante shouted, and kicked him in the chest. He knew he was at a disadvantage against seven – well, now six – guys, especially since he was handcuffed, but if they were this exhausted, it shouldn’t be too hard. Two of them rushed toward him, their arms raised, and he kicked them both, then quickly rolled as air pierced the wall behind him. Four left, all standing as far away as they possibly could, pointing their shaking hands at him. Dante dropped down and giggled, causing the one in the rear to bolt for the door. His comrades turned and called for him to stop, and Dante took advantage of the distraction and closed the gap.
He had two unconscious before the third even turned around, and when he took in Dante, it was already too late: he took a full kick to the temple that knocked him out cold. He fell at Dante’s side, and the boy hobbled toward the last guard, who was just then desperately trying to unlock the steel door, finding it difficult to fit the key into the lock because of his shaking hands. Once he heard the sound of his comrade’s bodies hitting the floor he turned, then his face went white and his mouth stretched wide with horror. He turned back to the door and desperately tried to turn the key in the lock. Dante took large deliberate steps toward him. With each footfall, he saw the man’s body sink lower and lower. Finally, he got the key in and unlocked it, then pushed the door open. Not wanting to lose the bastard, Dante picked up the pace, but was too late. The guy slammed the door shut. Dante couldn’t stop his momentum in time and plowed right into it.
“Fuck!” he yelled as he hit the ground, then sat up and shook his cuffed wrists at the door. “Just open up so I can get out of here!”
A voice emanated from behind the black door. “I can’t do that sir!” That pissed Dante off even more, the guy was fucked either way – why make things more difficult for him? He stood up and kicked at the steel-plated door, but it didn’t budge at all.
“That won’t do you any good, you might as well surrender,” the voice said, and Dante tried his next strategy of glaring a hole through it. He scoffed and kicked at the ground, muttering to himself until his eyes locked on one of the prone guards, and more specifically the key ring hanging off his belt.
“When I get in there, I’m gonna kick your ass.”
“I’d like to see that, but I guess we’ll never know since you won’t get in.”
Dante smirked, and enjoyed the guy’s little commentary now, knowing that it would be his last. He made slow strides toward his unconscious comrade saying, “Yeah, you’re a real tough guy when you’re safe behind that door, bet you wouldn’t be if I removed it.”
“I’m tough with or without the door. Why, I’ll—” His voice stopped abruptly when Dante removed the keys from the unconscious guard’s belt, the jingle echoing through around hallway. The light of the torches reflected off them, causing it to give off a sharp yellow tinge, and Dante smirked as he pinched it between two fingers.
“What was that?” the voice behind the door said, frantic now.
“I’m gonna come in there and kick your ass.”
“N-no you’re not.”
“Ooooooh yeah I am. I’m gonna shove your head right up your ass,” Dante said as he placed the key in the lock. This one didn’t fit, but there were two more to try.
“You won’t be able to do that, the other guards don’t have the key to this door, so don’t even try.”
“Well, there’s no harm in tryin’ though,” Dante said, placing the second key inside. No luck.
“Y-you’re not really gonna shove my head up my ass, right?”
“No…” Dante said, trailing off as he placed the third and final key into the opening. He gave a demonic smile, his eyes shining.
“I’M GONNA SHOVE YOUR ASS UP YOUR ASS!”
“That isn’t even possible!” the guard shouted in retort as the door flung upon and Dane leapt in, grasping the guard’s butt and trying to shove the man’s entire body, including his ass, up his ass. Dante shouted and pulled as the man screeched his protest. As Dante struggled to forcibly remove another man’s pants, something dawned on him. This image… if taken out of context… may be interrupted wrong. He stopped mid-pull, the guard stopping his screeching and panting, awaiting his fate.
No, Dante did not like this at all.
He stood up, his face pale and devoid of expression, then looked down at the guy, who was pressed onto his stomach, his knees upturned and swaying. It reminded Dante of an image from a magazine he kept under his mattress, only featuring this guy instead of the hot chick.
“Argh!”
He yelled in anger and clawed at his eyes as the image attempted to burn itself into his brain, and he stomped on the man’s body until he was sure that he was unconscious.
Dante underestimated that guard’s power.
His eyes shut painfully tight for fear of the terrifying image coming back to life, Dante felt his way along the wall. He walked like that for a few minutes, until the image drifted away into his subconscious, suppressed and never to return. He shook his head, and took solid steps down the corridor, torches blazing at each side. He’d done this walk half a dozen times in the past two days, so he already knew the layout pretty well and what awaited him.
The last couple of times, guards jumped out of the woodwork to try to attack him on his way to the large arena-like room. Not this time, as Dante was pretty sure he had taken out the entire staff, except for maybe a receptionist, who couldn’t be all that tough or else he wouldn’t be a receptionist. Now all he had to worry about was that fucking warden, but the warden was the problem.
All the others guys were nothing, so it wasn’t much of a problem for Dante to take them out, but the warden on the other hand was tough. Dante had gotten a few good shots in, sure, but the warden wasn’t the type of person he wanted to fight in his current condition. If it was just his Sol, he was sure he’d be out by now, but he was also handcuffed. He wanted to grab the guy, clinch up, and blast him with knees like he did that one chick, but he just wasn’t letting it happen. So far, he was lucky to even get a solid kick in.
All of this went through Dante’s head as he reached the door at the end of the long hallway. He gripped its handle and took a sharp intake of breath, aware that it would be unlocked by now. He tore it open and walked confidently in, where the warden awaited him.
“You ain’t gonna ju
st let me through, eh?”
“Hardly. I enjoy this far too much to allow my most entertaining prisoner to escape. Do you understand how little work I get to do around here?”
“Stop creating hippies and maybe they’ll do some shit to keep you busy.”
He threw his head back and cackled. “Hippies? Ah, I see. So you’ve come to learn the truth of the nuef, have you? You’re far more entertaining than I could have imagined,” he said, but his face hardened, and the usual playfulness that Dante saw when they fought leached out of him. “Although you shouldn’t have told me that really. Keeping the population docile leaves them easy to control. They don’t commit crimes, which makes my job nice and cushy, and they work without a single complaint. And Her Will, they won’t so much as think of destroying it. But if you go blabbing to those troublesome comrades of yours? Who knows what will happen.” He stepped into the center of the fighting stage, extending his hand. Energy gathered there that sent his robe and hair flapping. “This will be our final battle.”
Dante clenched his teeth so hard that they clicked and he bent his knees, ready to spring as soon as the massive attack was unleashed. The warden swung his hand forward in a showy display and a rush of air tore through the arena, seeming to distort even the image in front of him. Dante leapt as hard as he could to his side, still feeling the violent gust tug at his clothes. He hit the ground, rolled, and darted forward, where the warden threw out several bursts of energy as fast as he could. Dante kept pressing on – these were nothing compared to giant fucking spears.
This guy was dead set on taking Dante out now, so he didn’t want to take any chances. Dante was sure to conceal that his final trump card was a clinch until now: he always went for an attack first, so he had no doubt that the warden assumed Dante was just trying to kick him in the head and knock him out in a full-on frontal assault. With this in mind, Dante wanted to act like that was indeed his game plan. He charged forward, taking special note that the attacks had stopped. The warden was standing directly across from him, his arms folded in an ‘X’ across his chest. His clothing whipped around violently and it was evident that he was gathering a huge amount of energy. Dante knew it was in preparation to counter his charge, but he had to play along.