"Wake up, Luther! Today we have crepes with blueberry jam."
Lior?
"Come on, hurry up! I don't wanna miss them!"
He yanked me out of bed and into the hallway like it was Christmas morning.
Five malnourished omegas blocked the corridor. Their leader—built like a box and missing an eye—stepped forward.
Great. The circus was in town.
"What?" I asked, already irritated. "It's morning. My cell buddy wants skinny pancakes and you're in the way."
"You're Luther Wilkers," said the budget pirate.
"Yeah. What about it?"
"You're too rich to be sold. Too important to sell yourself. Why are you here?"
"I'm on vacation," I muttered.
Unfortunately, the inbred took it seriously.
I sighed.
"Emiliano. I ruined some of his paintings, he punched me in the face, and now I'm here. Don't get attached. He'll probably drag me out next week."
They laughed. Lior tugged on my sleeve, clearly desperate to drop the whole breakfast fantasy.
"Yeah, yeah, he wouldn't let his wife rot here," I added, shooing them. "Now out of the way—I'm starving."
I dragged Lior behind me, brushing my shoulder deliberately into the cyclops as I passed.
I've seen prison movies.
If you don't assert yourself, they'll eat you. And not just metaphorically. They'll eat your ass in the bathroom.
"You shouldn't have said that, Luther," Lior muttered. "Parading your relationship with Emiliano like that—it's dangerous. People here would sell their own mother if it meant money or freedom."
He glanced down the hall with that quiet kind of awe only the hopeless seem to master.
"When you grow up without even a branch of hope, you grab anything. Nobody wants to be here, really. But this… this is the best option some of them ever got. To die horrifically—just to buy a branch for someone else. Or worse. For whoever's selling them."
"You really know how to bring down a mood. You were just excited about strawberry crepes."
He forced a smile. "Blueberry. Blueberry crepes."
"Right, right. Anyway, don't worry." I flexed. "Look at these babies. No one's gonna touch you while I'm around. I'll protect us, no matter how many one-eyed freaks come knocking."
And yet.
I was holding the spasmin body of Lior was we were both bleeding. Choking on smoke.
About to pass out.
"I'm sorry, Lior. This is all my fault. Please, hang onto me. I'll get us out. I'll save us. I can't die. He wouldn't let me die."
Please. Please. Please.
I hear the omegas trying to tear down the door we locked.
I hear someone screaming that they brought the gas.
I see the smoke changing colors.
They're falling like flies. Wildering away.
I see the gas slowly coming in here too.
I use what's left of my shirt to make a mask for Lior.
The smoke shifts color. Sickly. Unnatural.
They're collapsing like flies. Withering. Sinking into silence.
The gas is coming in here too.
I tear what's left of my shirt and make a mask for Lior.
There—up on the far wall—I think I see a small window.
I climb onto the counter. It's slick with blood and oil. My arms are full. My vision's swimming. The smoke here is changing too—blending into a new color, something I don't have a name for.
My hands are full with Lior.
I need to use my head.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Blood is coming in my eyes. I can't see anymore. I just slam my head.
Harder.
And harder.
I hear a crack.
Almost there.
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Glass shattered everywhere.
Some got stuck in my forehead and the corner of my eyes.
We can't get out. Metal bars.
But fresh air is coming in.
I glue Lior's face to the bars. I snatched the improv mask I made him.
Breathe, Lior. Breathe.
Hang in there.
He is shaking. Convulsing. His eyes are twitching.
Something is wrong.
This is not from the gas.
I hear the guards coming.
They are piling bodies upon bodies. Like they are just objects thrown one onto the other.
I see the Cyclops. His mouth was open. Tongue out, swollen, about to burst. His skin was turning a sickly yellow. I see blood coming out of his nose and ears.
His body was torn. Like someone shaped him into a pretzel. I see bones piercing his skin.
And he wasn't the only one.
It was the gas.
Emiliano just disposed of everyone.
Like they meant nothing.
The door burst open. They dragged us out. Held us at gunpoint.
"Should we shoot them?" one of them asks the other.
"We didn't receive any orders to spare them."
What?
No. No—he wouldn't. He couldn't.
Emiliano- did- did he dispose of me too?
"Wait", I yelled. "I am the Prime Minister's son. I can pay you. I can give you anything you want. Please, please, let us go. Say you lost us in the riot. I'll assure you and your kids and your grandkids will not need to work another day for the rest of your life."
The guards looked at one another.
They laughed.
One picked up the phone and dialed a number.
He didn't say anything. He just nodded along with whatever the person on the other side said.
He switched guns.
I hover over Lior's body to protect him.
I feel a sharp sting. Almost too familiar.
A tranquilizer.
I smile.
Then I stop.
They are dragging Lior out of my arms as I am losing consciousness.
I tried to hold onto him, but it's pointless.
I failed to protect him.
Yet again, I am left alone.
I shivered on the bloody marble. My body shuts down.
All I could think was that my father was right.
All I do is disappoint. All I am is a failure. If it weren't for him, I would be nothing.
And I should have never been born.