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Milo curls up in the cage, making himself small. The lights are too bright, and his body is trembling. His bruises throb, his scrapes sting. He pulls his blanket up to his face, pressing the tattered, smelly fabric against it. The action feels young, childish. He doesn’t care. It’s some measure of comfort, and he needs that.
He flinches when he hears the doors slide open. He peeks out from under the blanket to watch as two keepers approach. Cruel, and Quick. Quick always speaks and acts very fast. Cruel draws it out. Milo is terrified of Cruel. He shrinks away, covering his face with the blanket.
“Down.” Quick orders, already ticking off the clipboard. Milo feels frozen. He can’t. He can’t. He can’t.
“Are you deaf?” Cruel rattles the bars of the cage. “She said put it down!”
Milo drops the blanket, pressing against the back of the cage. He desperately wants to retrieve it, to huddle behind it and disappear from Cruel’s view. But he is terrified of earning further ire. So he complies. “What were you doing?”
Milo blinks at him, confused by the question.
Cruel kicks the cage. Milo jumps, colliding with the bars and yelping. Quick sniggers. Cruel doesn’t stop glaring at him. “Stop ignoring me, jinx. What were you doing behind that blanket?”
He opens his mouth to explain himself. But nothing comes out. He makes a frustrated sound. He knows the words that he wants to say, why won’t they come out?! What’s happening to him, what is this? He’s never struggled to speak like this before.
“Don’t you dare growl at me, jinx.” Cruel growls lowly, cold and furious. Milo flinches, fear slamming into his small heart. He fumbles for the blanket, acting only on an instinct to hide from danger. “Stop that!” Cruel thunders. Milo drops it like he was burned, throwing his hands in the air in a desperate attempt to prove that he isn’t misbehaving. “Oh, you are going to get it in a minute, you rabid little monster. But first, answer me. What were you doing?”
“Hiding.” Milo manages to force out, stuttering over the words.
“Hiding.” Cruel repeats, crouching down next to the cage. “You were hiding. What were you hiding from?”
Milo is sure that someone shoved a stopper into his throat, stopping any words from coming out.
“Answer!” Cruel rattles the bars. “And stop shrinking away from me.”
“Y-you.” Milo stutters. Then he flinches. No, he didn’t mean to say that! Why did he say that? “No, I- not just you, not- everything, everyone, all…” In his desperate attempt to explain, words get tangled up, cross over each other, tumble down, and generally do what he didn’t want them to. He finally gives up, closing his mouth and lowering his head.
“I see. And why would you do that?” Cruel’s tone is dangerous. Milo knows that no answer is safe. That even if his words decided to behave, he will be hurt. Badly.
“Because… because I’m scared.” He mumbles, voice smaller than a mouse.
“Scared.” Cruel repeats. Then he stands up and kicks the cage. “Out.”
Milo watches as he opens the cage door. An instinct yells at him to take the chance and run. But a new instinct is battling for control. And this one yells at him to stay in the cage. Where he is safer. To keep metal bars between himself and his keepers.
Cruel is never patient, and today is no exception. He slams the door against the cage bars, making Milo jump. “Out!”
Milo follows orders. He crawls out of the cage, his heart pounding and hands shaking. He is unsteady as he is pulled to his feet. Cruel holds him tightly, restraining him with ease. Milo is limp in his grip. He has given up on struggling.
He feels funny. Since when does he ‘give up’? He’s a Murphy. And Murphy’s persevere. He should fight, rail against the cruel treatment, do anything for the slightest chance at escape. But that hasn’t worked before, and only earned him more pain. He’ll find a way to escape, he will. For now he’s just… biding his time. For now. He’ll escape. He won’t spend the rest of his life in here.
“You’re scared.” Cruel repeats, close to his face. Milo flinches. “That’s good. You should be.” He squeezes his wrist tightly, bruisingly tightly. “You’re a rabid, feral monster. You have done nothing but cause trouble since we caught you. If fear is all that works to make you behave, then we have to do that.”
Milo burns with the injustice. They kidnapped him! They took him away from his family, and tossed him into a cell. They threatened him and yelled at him, never explaining what was going on. Leaving him to piece together the horrible truth.
He’s not a monster. He’s not. He doesn’t understand why they think he is. He tells them over and over that he’s just a kid, that he wants to go home, that he doesn’t want to hurt anyone. They don’t listen. And often, they get hurt. And then blame him. And hurt him. He just wants to go home.
He doesn’t say any of that to Cruel. He quietly accepts the verbal lashing. “This situation was avoidable. All you had to do was answer me, but you didn’t. You disobeyed a very simple order. And you want me to believe that you’re human? You don’t act like one.” More squeezing. Milo winces, tears springing to his eyes. “Stop. Whining.” Cruel throws him to the ground.
The air is knocked from Milo’s lungs as he collides with the hard ground. He immediately curls up, protecting himself as much as he can. He hides his face behind his hands. Waiting. Waiting. Waiting.
A kick. Milo whimpers. “I told you to stop whining. Bad jinx!” Cruel scolds. “You don’t get to be scared when you bring it all on yourself. No whining or whimpering or crying during your punishment, or it’ll be even worse. Understand?”
“Mhm.” Milo forces out, choking back frightened tears.
“I said, understand?”
“Yes. Yes, I understand.” Milo stutters out. Cruel nods in satisfaction. Then he kicks him again. And again. And again.
It hurts so much. Agonising, overwhelming, drowning out his conscious thoughts. But he doesn’t let himself whimper. He holds back the tears. He does his best to comply with Cruel’s order.
Finally, Cruel stops. Milo gasps for air, trying to press the tears back into his eyes before Cruel sees. He doesn’t comment, just grabs him by the arm and drags him back to his cage. He shoves him in, slamming the door on his foot. “Hurry up!” He snaps. Milo quickly yanks his foot back inside and the door is shut.
He huddles at the back of his cage, making himself as small as possible. He waits. One beat. Two, three. Please leave. Please don’t hurt me again.
Cruel turns and leaves, Quick right behind him. They leave. He’s alone. He exhales, a shuddering breath that comes soaked in tears. And the sobbing soon follows, wracking his small body as he presses his blanket to his face. Great, gasping sobs that make him feel sick.
Finally, he stops. He curls up on the ground, hiding his face with his blanket. His entire body is trembling, rattled and tense. His bruises pulse, prodding at him for his attention. The cage presses against his bruised body, cold and ever present.