Chapter Text
More than a year without sunlight. More than a year without rain. More than a year in the dark.
What was better, to be forgotten, or to be remembered and tortured for it?
It was hard to tell.
Kara closed his eyes. Not that it made much difference. The blackness of the prison walls was barely indistinguishable from shutting out the world entirely. Sometimes, a guard would come by and jeer. Rarely, someone would come into his cell and inflict some kind of pain on him. His bones had long since stopped healing correctly. If he ever did escape, he knew without a doubt that he wouldn’t be able to play his guitar again. His hands alone had been shattered more times than he could count.
This was life in Hell.
Time held almost no meaning now, except his own internal clock which was failproof, despite the fact that all outside indicators had been taken away.
One of the perks of no longer being fully human.
It had been a year and a bit since he’d last seen Jay. Small baubles of sunshine to hold onto while stuck in the dark. His last great work before everything had been taken away.
He wondered what had happened to his pets in the meantime. If they had fled, been killed, or been given away by well meaning friends.
If Kara was fully human, the sensory deprivation would have driven him mad already. He sat and waited, felt the seconds ooze by like a slow muddy river. At this point, even if he did manage to escape his cell, there wouldn’t be much of a point. Walking quickly was no longer an option, and he was lucky that he could still walk at all.
It was one thing to be born disabled. It was another to become disabled later in life. It was another entirely to be hurt repeatedly until you stayed that way. Another reason for vengeance to be added to his list, if he could ever find a time and place to exact it.
The thing about chronic pain is that sometimes, if a person is of a right disposition, it can give them a core made out of steel. Kara was not mad. Nor was he about to descend into madness. He was not angry at his captors, nor was he about to become enraged.
His mind had become steel-like as well. Cold, smooth. He sat in his cell like a statue, waiting And one day, he would bust out of his cell, and murder every single demon that had ruined his life and stolen away the sun. Ruthlessly, he would go down fighting, and destroy as many of them as he possibly could.
It was only a matter of time.