Chapter Text
My eyes opened in a hurried wake.
I hadn’t realised why I couldn’t move until I looked down - my wrists were in thick, heavy chains, restricting my movement.
What had happened? It seemed as though my mind was foggy; my thoughts not my own. It seemed like forever ago that I had this type of mindset; where I had drunken myself with the use of a heavy vodka.
My eyes paced around the room until I saw it; what had been keeping the air with such a metallic taste.
Bars. Metal bars.
I was in a cell - a prison cell.
A cough tickled the back of my throat, my saliva coating my tongue in a thick manner; trying to prevent the cough that was lurching.
I didn’t understand it - the way my wrists were locked up, the prison bars, the metallic taste in the air that had filled my sinus - where was I?
What had happened?
I hefted forward, grimacing at the pain in my thighs that felt like an ache of being in the same position for far too long. I couldn’t identify where I was; but I knew I had to get out.
Pressing my feet against the harsh ground and using the muscles to stand up, I hesitated.
The chain seemed to make me stuck in the same spot - I had to lean from the restriction, my back arched in an impure manner.
I wouldn’t usually call it such - but after the events of Military School it was an excuse for my dirty mind.
Even if that dirty mind was through the acts of manipulation and unwanted sexual acts.
A stressed sigh escaped my parted lips, my fingers gently tracing the chain that held me to the ground - it was unlikely that I could escape, I didn’t have the resources - no, I didn’t have the strength.
If I could just stand, just a tad; it could help, maybe the chains have gotten weaker since I first stood -
No.
My body slumped back down, the chains making a satisfactory “clink” noise against the hard ground; I had to wait - wait for the destiny that was ahead of me.
Although I knew how the circumstances would turn out, there was no other way of escaping these chains.
My eyelids grew heavy as I rested my tired eyes, slowly letting them close to restore my sleep - to let the time pass in a way that may benefit me on getting out.
What I was not prepared for, however, was the perception created by my mind; a dream. Oh, how I longed for a form of comfort - but all it depicted was that of a past memory, a way to unsettle me more.
Thank you for that, I thought sarcastically.
~
“Thomas, you have to share a room. You really think you’d be able to convince the General to give ya a private room? You’re dreaming!”
My eyebrows furrowed as a grimace formed on my lips, taken aback by the words; but not surprised.
It was typical of him to act like this, I shouldn’t expect anything different; maybe I was hoping for a form of comfort, but why would I go to him for it?
He hadn't done anything to make me feel like myself - I suppose I hadn’t felt a form of someone else’s sympathy in quite some time, but I’m used to that.
I had longed for someone to act this way, even if it was to someone who treated me like garbage.
“I don’t know. Maybe the General actually has a heart”
“Pfft yeah right, even if he did he wouldn’t console someone like you”
A smirk had formed on his parted lips - it annoyed me, though even if I had the intent of fighting him, one punch and I’d be out.
I knew my strengths, and compared to him; I was a goner. But - what if it was a fight against wits? He’d be the goner, with that dull mindset of his.
No surprise he grew up in a military household, you can almost always tell from first glance; the way he stands, the way he talks, the way he..
“Shouldn’t you be out on cooking duty anyways? The timetable says it’s yours and Matt’s turn. Better not make the food shit again”
I huffed a little at the statement - my food was perfect the first time, he just doesn’t have the acquired taste it needs.
Turning my back, I make my way to the kitchen; where I find Matt contemplating; I don’t see that often.
“Tom! I didn’t expect to see you actually arrive - weren’t you out training overtime?”
His face had lit up, blue orbs looking my way; his unusually dumb face hinted with the sign of decision - the expectations I set for this fellow definetly looked a different direction.
“I was. Tord reminded me”
Even the way his name rolled off my tongue; It made me feel warm, cosy - why? Why had even the slightest mention of the devil made my stomach churn, my saliva thick against my tongue and - worst of all - my face heat up?
I don’t understand, I didn’t understand.
Matt nodded slowly to show his understanding of my words, letting out a soft sigh.
It wasn’t everyday I got to see the ginger - he preferred the health side of the military, I favoured the training side of things; that didn’t mean I disliked the health side however.
Yet, I had to train myself - this was the best way I could manage, Military school is a way of learning - a way of preparing.
I, though, had trouble with facing those around me.
Especially when their intentions are to hurt.
I shook my head to leave the train of thought that arose, quickly helping Matt with the preparation of food for the dinners we must complete.
But as I sliced the carrot with the sharp blade in my hand, I knew what I had to deal with every night.
Military school, although the name offers protection - It does quite the opposite.
I sighed, the blade going down on the chopping board loudly.
.
.
.
It was dark.
The windows, with their curtains shut and the blinds concealed, reflected nothing but darkness into the bunk; where I resided. I couldn’t sleep. Knowing what would happen if I let my conscious slip away - it kept me up, it kept me alert.
Even if the time was past midnight, I could not risk it.
Even to let my guard down for a slight moment, I could..
It was the footsteps. They were here; hesitating, I covered myself with the thin blanket, the door to my bunk creaking open ever so slightly.
I bit my lip.
The footsteps edged closer, a low huff under a breath heavy scented with alcohol. I clenched onto my blanket as a hand pressed against the sheets.
I didn’t deserve this - what had I done to cause this much torture?
Maybe it was meant to happen; I had to live and deal with it; there are those suffering more than me, I shouldn’t be complaining about something minor like this.
But, why does it hurt so bad?
The hand slipped and caressed my thigh, squeezing it with a force that left me paralysed; with my training, shouldn’t I be able to push him off easily? Why am I not capable of moving - maybe it’s all a dream.
The hand reached further, and my breath hitched; the buckle of the belt hitting the ground had made my eyes clench shut.
.
I didn’t know what I was experiencing at the time. I thought it was normal - that I had to put up with it like a daily occurrence - but oh, how I wish I knew.
How could I have been so vulnerable? So weak?
Thomas.
A voice had whispered to me, ever so slightly; it sounded familiar. Perhaps a figure of my imagination, my mind trying to console itself.
Thomas.
It was harsher this time.
Tom.
It was very familiar. The voice, with it’s thick accent, words melted into a thick caramel madness, the tongue rolling off each r..
Wait.
Thomas.
…
Wake.
…
Up.
…