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No.
No.
No no no no no no no
The guard, dressed in protective clothing, yanks him roughly away from Cavendish and Dakota. Their hands are torn apart, the comforting grip gone. They try to reach out for him, to pull him back, but when the guns are pointed at them they stop.
They are surrounded by a whole circle of guards, holding weapons that are pointed right at them. Gloved hands dig into Milo’s shoulders, making him wince.
His heart pounds like a drum as he looks around. Cavendish and Dakota are also being held, their arms twisted painfully behind their backs. They struggle desperately until the weapons turn to Milo, and while they stop moving they glare furiously at the guards.
Milo wants to glare and resist like them but he can’t. Fear grips him tighter than the hands on him. Not again, this can’t be happen again…
The doors open against and they begin to drag him back through, his feet scraping off of the ground. He looks back, expecting to see Cavendish and Dakota being taken the opposite way, but they are being dragged in the same direction as him. His breaths are short and shallow and his vision is spotty. He hears Dakota call out, “It’s ok Milo! It’ll be alright!”, but it’s sounds as if it is coming from underwater, the words distorting in his ears. He tries to hang onto them anyway.
The lights are on again, like they always are. Lights that constantly shine on him so he can never go unseen.
He is roughly deposited back in his cage. He bites back a yelp as he collides against the metal inside of the cage, tears of pain pricking at his eyes. He scrambles to the other side to look out.
A man he doesn’t recognise is standing in front of Cavendish and Dakota. He is dressed in all of the required protective gear, but underneath is a smart suit and a cold glare. His hands are behind his back as he surveys the pair.
“You two really can mess up anything we give you.” He says. “You are terrible at this job.”
“With all due respect, sir.” Cavendish’s voice shakes, but he glowers at the man. “We did exactly what is described in our job description.”
“You tried to help a monster to escape.”
“We are supposed to protect the innocent, and that is what we did.” Dakota says. His voice is dark and certain, furious despite the fear. “This isn’t a monster, this is a child! You-“ He attempts to lunge forwards, but the guard holding him yanks him back. He cries out as he is shoved down to the ground, held on his knees. He tries to struggle but the guard is stronger, so instead he just glares up with a fury that could burn through flesh.
Unfortunately, the man in front of them may be made of flesh, but behind that is pure, cold steel. “I would say that this is a shame, but it’s not.” The man regards them with disgust. “You had a chance to make things better for yourselves and you threw it all away for a monster who doesn’t give a damn about anyone except for itself.”
The man turns slightly to look at Milo. He does his best to glare even as he trembles like a leaf, even as fear pulses through his body and makes his head fuzzy. If Cavendish and Dakota are doing it then he can too.
“What will it take for you learn, jinx? How many people have to die for you to realise that it is necessary that you stay here?” The man asks, studying Milo like he is a particularly pathetic species of bug. “You have been treated with far more decency than you are owed, considering the complete lack of care you show towards the people you manipulate into helping you, never mind the civilians outside who would be affected if you escaped.”
“I’m not a monster, and I haven’t manipulated anyone.” Milo insists in a shaky voice, hugging himself tightly. “You put me in a cage!”
“And still it doesn’t learn.” The man rolls his eyes. Then he makes a gesture to the guards. Two of them raise their weapons to point right at Cavendish and Dakota, who blanch. “Let’s try showing you the consequences of your actions, then we’ll see how you feel.”
And with those words the world seems to screech to a stop, the momentum tossing him violently and shaking everything. Milo stares in horror at the scene in front of him. “No!” He yells, with a force he didn’t realise he still had in him after years of captivity. “No, you can’t!”
“They’re traitors who sided with a monster over their own kind, they aren’t to be trusted. And if I can’t trust someone, what use are they to me?” The man asks. Cavendish and Dakota are trying to hide it, but they are clearly terrified.
“They didn’t… it’s my fault! It’s all my fault! I manipulated them, I tricked them, please don’t…” Milo grips the bars so tightly his fingers hurt, but he doesn’t even notice that. Tears build in his eyes as his voice gets higher from the upset. He can’t let this happen, he needs to stop this.
“It finally admits it.” The man smiles coldly, satisfied. “And in that case, their deaths will be a lesson to you.”
The guards closest point their guns right at their heads. He sees them wince, sees the fear in their eyes. “Say goodbye, jinx.”
“No, please! Please…” All Milo can do is beg, tears streaming down his face. Then they look at him and a sob forces it’s way through his lips. They promised that it would be alright, they promised.
“It’s alright, Milo. It’s not your fault.” The fear in Dakota’s voice is obvious, but he is still trying to comfort Milo. Despite having a gun to his head. Despite being about to die, and there is nothing Milo can do.
“We’re sorry, Milo. You will escape eventually, I’m certain. Just hold on.” Cavendish adds, voice cracking. He reaches out for Dakota’s hand. The guard holding him yanks him a little farther away, so they’re just out of reach of each other.
“Please, no…”
Bang.
Bang.
Milo lets out a strangled cry and lunges forward, met with the unmoving coldness of the bars. He crumples down, scraping his face off of the bars, sobs wracking through his body. Orders are shouted, footsteps are heard. He barely registers any of it. He lies on the floor and cries, great gasping sobs that hurt his throat, he can’t even move.
And he can’t close his eyes. They feel forced open, he just has to look. They don’t move. They just lie there. Even when everyone else leaves, even when the door is slammed shut, they don’t move. He lies crumbled in his cage, cursing the bars that stop him from getting to them, getting to the people who were kind and tried to help him and were killed for it. The lights never turn off, so they are never hidden.
They come back for them later. It might be the same day, or the next day, or many days after that. He has never been able to keep track of time in here, he doesn’t even know how old he is. They come to take them away, and despite how looking at them makes him feel sick he still cries even more when they are gone. He thought he was out of tears. He was wrong.
The cold man comes to stand next to his cage. Milo just stares at where they used to be, where red stains the white floor trembling with emotion. Impatiently, the man sticks his finger in through the bars to poke him. He winces. He remembers when Dakota held his finger through the bars and another sob sneaks out.
“Have you learned your lesson, jinx?”
Finally, Milo tears his eyes away to look up at him. He is exhausted and grieving and just done. He can’t do this again. He can’t go through this again. He nods once, then rests his head on the bars and lets his puffy, stinging eyes slide shut.
“Hm.” The man says, surprisingly casual. “Then they managed to not be useless for once.”