It was clear now. He should have known all along.

There was no way those bastards ever wanted to “just” apologize to Lucian. They were too proud to ever do that, and too frightened to leave him alone. James, Trent, and John thought themselves to be different from Lucien. He could see it in their eyes every time they met. Looking down on him, as if he was nothing but another pathetic case of an outcast at Aylen High School.

All three were built the same, round and fat, hair trimmed and faded to make them look like stars. Only one thing was missing. Their looks. Oftentimes, Lucian thought them to look like ogres, painted brown and white.

“Ya’know, you won’t need that Gameboy later’” James said.

Lucien recoiled back and gripped the Gameboy in his pockets that sagged down. They were losers, and maybe even worse, but having money mattered more than everything. Otherwise, they would be in the same position as him. Only their parent's money made them errand boys instead of punching bags. Why would they even care about his Gameboy? It was all he had from his foster parents before he was sent back after their deaths. They were the only thing close to a family he had ever known. He had wished them to live longer, but old age caught up to them. Lucian had only ever gotten two gifts in his life, the first being his birth, according to the orphan caregivers. The second, the Gameboy. If they wanted to, each of the boys could probably buy thousands of Gameboys. Better than Lucian’s old model. So why? Were they trying to just be jerks? He stood there, middle of the playground, trembling, fearful to let it out of his pocket.

Barely mustering up any courage, “This is my Gameboy, James,” he replied back.

“He's not saying it isn’t yours dummy,” John retorted. "We’ll just be holding it while you deal with business.”

The trio laughed as if it was some grand joke; some clever language or sleight of words.

Business, Lucian groaned in his head.

It would not be the first time he was beaten up, but the pain did not feel any less than the previous ones. His body tried to normalize it, but no matter what, he never numbed to the beatdowns. Who would it be this time? Was it the seniors again, or was it some fellow juniors who ordered this? Regardless, Lucien accepted his fate, biting down his teeth. It was not like he could do anything about it. God had blessed everyone, and he spread his beauty to all. At least that was what the preachers that came to the orphanages said. Where was the beauty and strength that Lucian was supposed to have gotten? If anything, he was punished. A life of constant sickness, and injuries. He was lucky he was still alive, the caregivers told him one morning after he fainted. The bones in his body were one with the flesh. Even the kids at the orphanages nicknamed him, "Skelly."

“Shit, they’re here! Let’s go boys, we did our part,” Trent urgently said, as they scurried away into the roads behind. There was fear in his voice.

Lucien turned around and looked behind him. In the distance, he could see a group of students in uniform approaching. The playground was unguarded after school hours, and most people were far away from school anyways when the closing bell rings. He was trapped.

Should I try to make a run for it? He thought. If I do, the next one will probably be even worse. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t.

The juniors would be the ones today. It was people he recognized, from his classes, and even the cafeteria. At least seven or eight stood there, in front of him, smirking.

“How you been, Lucy?" one of them asked.

Lucian looked down, scared to meet their eyes. He wanted it to be over, and just leave.

"Cat got your tounge?" the same voice questioned back. "I heard you were talking to my girl. You had plenty to say then!"

What was he talking about? The only girl he had ever spoken to was Lola, who asked for help with homework. He even told her he was not good at it, and walked away. She tried to pester him more, teasing him, but he ignored her.

Ahh, I get it.

This was punishment. How dare someone like him ignore her. Lucian had forgotten that day of his position and ignored the queen of the juniors, the prom queen, and the girlfriend of Bob Demar, the state wrestling champion.

"He thinks he's hot shit Bob!" another voice yelled.

"Trying to flirt with my girl?" Bob's tone was rising.

With no further warning, Lucien felt himself lifted to the air, and thrown back. The hardness of the ground, mixed with the dampness of the grass stung his skin that was now bruised. In front of him, Bob charged and mounted him, and rained down punches one after the other. Lucien tried to cover up, to shield his face, but the punches were penetrating through his guard. Shots were landing on his rib cages and his chest. He swore he heard it crack, but none of that mattered to this raging ogre on top of him.

Endure it. Just bite down your teeth.

No matter what he told himself, or what he pleaded with Bob, nothing changed. He was still on the ground, now laid out flat, bloodied, and bruised. It was over, and he could see everyone laughing at him, and pointing at his legs which had been ripped up, revealing his thin quads. Bob got up, spat at him, and walked away to the embrace of his group. They turned their backs to Lucian and trotted back to the roads, when Bob turned back, and said, "Lola's my girl. Don't ever talk to her again."

Lucien slowly got up, despite his body telling him it could not. Bob turned back again, this time grinning, "You know, I heard orphan kids were messed up. Maybe that's why you're like this. Tell me, did your foster parents touch you?"

He did not know what happened, but something came over Lucian, who, despite no strength in his body, got up, and ran at Bob. The words affected him more than he thought they would. He thought he could endure it all. The pain, the humiliation, everything. Bad-mouthing his foster parents, who were the only source of warmth he ever felt in life enraged him beyond rationality. Aiming for his legs, Lucian tackled Bob down, who stuffed his head down and reversed the position. He picked Lucien up and slammed him on his back. Not letting go, Lucien held onto his feet, and bit it, taking a chunk of flesh off. Bob let out a huge scream, and everyone jumped on top of Lucian. Digging his nails into that fresh wound, he kept the pressure, and Bob tried to push him away, as did all the others, but his hands gripped the legs like a python gripping its prey. By the time they preyed him off of Bob, Lucian's face was covered in blood. Some his own, but a lot of it from Bob.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

All the juniors were now mercilessly beating him, shouting "Freak!"

Lucian felt good for the first time in his long years of school. The pain was gone now, and he began to laugh. Was this all he had to do to be free? To let go of his fears? The light began to fade from his eyes, closing ever so slowly. Despite the adrenaline, his body was shutting down. Before the final moments of darkness, he heard someone scream behind them, "Guys, stop! What is that?"

He turned his head, hoping to see what it was, but the light had fully faded with his consciousness, as he fell into a slumber.

*DING, DING*

A ringing bell sound permeated through the air, awakening Lucian. With his head still fuzzy, and muddled with what had happened, he slowly got up, opening his eyes. He looked down.

What is this? What …

Hands tied tightly with ropes, and legs exposed he fell back. The ground was wooden, with splinters touching his behinds as he moved away from them. This was not the orphanage or the school. This was definitely not the playground either. Where was he?

Gazing around for anything to give him clues, his heart sank further than it had already. This time, it was not confusion, but horror. All around him were people, dressed in ragged clothing, arms tied, and hollowed-out expressions. It looked straight out of a horror book. Some even looked at him, mouth drooling. It was not till now that he noticed where he was.

A cage. A moving cage.

Lucian hit himself with his hands that were tied. Then he did it again, harder, and harder.

Wake up! Wake up! Wake up!

It was not a dream. It was reality. He looked back and saw a bearded man, well-built, with ebony skin watching him. Chills ran down his spine. He was like Lucian too, though. That was clear because he was also bound. He was the only one that seemed to be normal, and not half-dead.

"Excuse me," Lucian said. "Where are we?"

The man kept staring at him, and moved closer now, prompting Lucian to rush back.

"You are not from here, are you?" he whispered.

Unsure of whether to answer him honestly or not, Lucian remained quiet. He had not realized it earlier, but the words he spoke, and the words the man spoke, was not something he had ever heard before. Why did the words come out different to what he said, and how come he understood it? The man slowly edged closer to Lucian, seeing him in a trance. He had nowhere else to back off to by the time he realized how close the man was.

"Your hair, is it real?" he asked Lucian.

My hair?

He nodded to the man. The long blonde hair that fell down his head to his shoulders was uncommon, even in his school. Still, not as atypical as everything that was happening. Strangeness all around, from the questions the man asked to the putrid smell that enveloped the air.

"Where are we going?" he asked the man firmly.

"To death," he replied softly, as he retreated back to his space.

The words stayed with him, sinking slowly and slowly until he felt nothing but anxiety and deep fear. Sweat built on his forehead until it dripped down to his collarbone.

This is real. I am going to die. I will die. Stupid, stop talking to yourself, stop it! This is what you always wanted right? To die. No one would even miss you, or know you were gone. Maybe all the pain will go away, and you will be free. Right! It's a good thing.

"Have you accepted your death?" the man asked.

"Give it a rest, you dunce!" an old prisoner shouted at the man. "You been trying to rally everyone here, with these idiotic talks. We are farmers, women, children. We are not warriors."

"You lot have already given me your answer, I was not speaking to you," the man replied. "Dead men do not speak, and every one of you are dead."

"Have you?" Lucian questioned back, now curious about where this was going.

The man smiled and looked at the bars that held them in. He pointed outwards, and said, "Look there!"

The cage was jerking sideways as whatever was pushing it had a tough time going up the hills. Outside, to where the man pointed, many valleys, all browned and dull, emerged. Trees, mostly withered, and leafless swayed in the wind. Nooses from every single tree were tied to men and women, who slumped from them, lifeless and rotten. Their bodies looked as if they had been decayed for a while. The sight alone was enough to almost make Lucian puke, but its smell mixed with whatever sickness the other prisoners had only edged him closer.

"Stories say this was a village once, long ago," the man continued, still looking outwards. "They knew the Nosferatus had made their way past the Great Chasm, and were headed their way. Do you know what they did?"

Lucian shook his head. What is a Nosferatu, he thought.

"They did nothing. They simply accepted their fate and hung themselves. The kids were drowned in the rivers. They neither ran nor fought. Just accepted it."

The man's gaze now pierced Lucian's own. "I've seen those eyes before. The eyes of defeat. You bear them. Why? Are you a coward?" he boomed.

The other prisoners looked attentive now, startled by his voice.

"No .. I-" he could not finish before the man interrupted him.

"Then you do not accept death?"

Lucian became silent once more. There was no answer, at least, not one he could give the man that was any different than what he was judged to think. This man was someone he had never met, who knew nothing of the life he lived. Who was he to tell him he was a coward for accepting death? Mustering up courage, he shouted back, "You don't know anything! What I have been through, what I dealt with, what I-"

"Every man here, every babe here, every woman here, went through the pits of hell! You do not want to die, you want to find a reason to live." The man's face relaxed and smoothened. "Fight. Fight until you can no longer. You will never find what you want to live for if you never fight to search for it."

"But they've said they gave up!" Lucian protested.

"Their mouths have, but their souls have not. If given a chance to escape, they would, but they fear too much to even try."

The words cut through Lucian like a knife through paper. Live? Live for a reason? Uncontrollably, tears flew down his cheeks, as he frantically tried to wipe them off. He had never heard anyone ever tell him to live or fight to survive. No one.

*DING, DING, DING*

The same ringing sound popped once again inside his ears. The sounds moved from inside, to above him now. He looked up, and saw a floating box, with writings inside of them. Was he seeing things, or had his emotions made him unstable? He knew no one else saw it because there was no reaction to any of the rings, from before, or from now. No one's eyes even went to above him, at the box. Only he could see it. The words inside read:

Lucian Auric Race: Human Quest: Survival