He found that his senses were more distracting than helpful, so he chose to close one of his eyes and retract the other two. He also dissolved his nose, mouth and ears. That way, he achieved a balance of opening his one eye quickly if he wanted and removing everything else that would have been a source of distraction.
Just before he closed his eyes, he saw Haemish moving around between stations, “Yes, that is fine, Resh. I will make sure you are not disturbed for the next few hours, and I assure you that you will not be interrupted.” Aarav nodded and then closed his eye. He was determined to take as much of this delicious meal in at once. There are probably many more of these somewhere; I will have to ask Haemish!
He opened his eye again, then went through the process of making his mouth, “Also, I am going to need a Mana potion once I finish.”
“Huh, what type of creature uses Mana for a basic function like eating!?” Aarav had already retracted his mouth had not produced his ears to listen. He saw the words form on Haemish’s lips, but he was already closing his eye. Nothing more interrupted his concentration. He settled into Zen Meditation, helping boost his recoveries a little and calm his racing mind.
He focused on Consume Blorenar again. It was primed and ready. Activating and slowly feeling it ramping up was a very satisfying feeling. Aarav felt like he was achieving something worthy and not playing some silly little game. It’s so easy to forget sometimes that this is not a game, with the numbers and stats and with the number of games I used to play and books I used to read. Sometimes it still feels surreal. Even seeing the memories from early in this life through Resh’s senses and mind, it was hard to believe that this had happened, and it was only in moments like this that he could relax and take it in. In the forest, where there were always predators around and very few safe places to rest, it was impossible to completely put down the mantle of prey. He felt like this was the first time he could allow himself to relax a little. Not entirely, of course, because he still did not know these people or what they wanted from him.
The fact remained that they were humans, his people. Granted, they were in a strange land, but he could reason with intelligent life forms, unlike the Panther. He seemed to drift in and out of consciousness, never letting his Talent fade. Sleep was fitful during the Consumption process, and he was rolling around.
Content Warning: The flashback may get a little dark for those uncomfortable with this. There is a summary at the end.
Fifteen Years Ago
Aarav rose from the muddy ground where he had fallen. Four children ranging from ten to twelve stood over him. “Muje de! Nahi, muje de!” they were yelling at him. He didn’t understand. His battered, bruised eight-year-old body was reaching its limits. He thought they were yelling at him in Hindi, but he couldn’t be sure why was his brain not working. He quested a trembling hand to his head, and it came away red. He was bleeding. One snatched the notes his fingers were curled around and ran, the others running after him. He blacked out.
When he came to, it was dark. He was sitting upright by the side of the road, his blood was still on the road, or maybe it was someone else’s blood it was hard to tell, as his head was splitting, and as he reached up again, he found the bleeding had stopped, at least the blood was minimal.
“You are lucky. This time, you are still alive. Try to take care. Don’t show off your money in a flashy way. You are just asking for someone to rob you.” A boy, fifteen by the look of him, sat beside Aarav. He had blood on his fingers and a needle with thread in his hand. He was toying with it as he spoke, not looking at Aarav at all. Once he had said his piece, he got up and walked away. Aarav tried to form the words to thank him. He couldn’t. His mouth was dry. He attempted to work the moisture up in his mouth, but nothing would come.
“Thank you….” A hoarse whisper escaped his lips, but the boy had already gone. He wished he could have followed him, but his legs weren’t working right. Large bruises formed where the boys had beaten him, and his ribs ached. He couldn’t control the tears falling from his eyes. That money was going to be his ticket out of the slums. He was too young to get an official job, and Mumbai was a harsh place for a kid alone in the slums.
Was he in Mumbai, or was it New York? The vision flickered before settling on moist, smelly Mumbai, full of rats, tobacco spit and disease. He didn’t know what to do. The white man that had given him the money had done it too publicly. He had been naïve, thinking he would be able to use it. What am I going to do now? He picked his broken body from the pavement and staggered down the road, no idea where to go, what to do—only knowing that this was not a safe place to be.
He had heard of safe places up north, where even the poor could find a place to eat or sleep. If they were lucky, they could be educated and learn. He would go there. Even without the money for a train ticket, he could make it. He renewed his determination. There was a train station nearby. Maybe he could climb on when no one was watching. Perhaps he could make it.
A car roared then screeched as it swerved in the road just ahead of him, the tail whipping out as the driver took the turn quickly. He twisted again. Aarav could hear the man’s drunken laughter as he continued to walk along the road hesitantly. The car stopped in front of him. His eyes darted, trying to find the best exit. He was the only other person on this road. When had he become so isolated?
The man got out of the drives seat and his companion, a woman, stepped out from the passenger side. They were both a little wobbly, and as they took shaky steps towards him, Aarav’s body froze in fear.
“Aja, come boy!” the woman called to him. “Come, we can take care of you, huh?” She spoke in Hindi and English. Aarav didn’t fully know English or Hindi but could piece together enough to understand. He numbly shook his head. Then again, more vigorously, that movement seemed to shake his body free of the locked state, and he darted away, only to run slap bang into the man. He leered at Aarav. Leaning down, Aarav could smell his alcohol-laden breath. The young child pushed down the urge to vomit at the stale breath and backed away, straight into the woman who had continued to approach.
“We don’t want to hurt you.” there was a hunger in the man’s eyes as he spoke. Fear coursed through Aarav like nothing he had ever felt, his young mind drenched in cortisone as he gasped, finding his escape paths cut off but a couple of drunkards.
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“Nai, please, no. I won’t disturb you anymore. Please let me know.” Aarav blubbered out past his tears and hiccups, his Gujarati broken and challenging to understand.
“Tum kya bola?” The woman asked, and she didn’t know what he was saying, and his tone changed as his inquiry did not suit her intentions. “I said come with us. Don’t make me ask again. Vapus nai!”
Aarav felt something break in him; he was going to die today. He knew it. Rich people, above the law stealing children from the streets, was an everyday occurrence in India, especially in a place like Mumbai. No one would look for him. He had nothing and no one. He had his life, though, and that alone was worth something. He would not let that go so quickly; they couldn’t take it from him! “Arrrrghhh!” he screamed in her face and shoved her, his eight-year-old body barrelling into hers. And she didn’t move. She was too big, not fat, but all adults were enormous compared to eight-year-olds.
He didn’t even realise when the tear began to fall, it might have been when he realised the situation was hopeless and these people could do whatever they liked with him. It might have been when they grabbed him and threw him bodily into the back of their car. Or it might have been when they trussed him up like a pig for the market while he continued to yell at them. They stopped that with a gag in his mouth, a foul-smelling sock that they wedged too deep for him to spit out. His dry mouth would not work to create enough moisture.
Belatedly he realised that they had not seemed drunk once their grim work began. He could not think, and he didn’t know what to consider, even if he had been able to. What was going to happen to him?
They had parked up in a large, expensive-looking house. For a moment, the briefest of moments, Aarav thought that things would be better. That changed the instant he saw the two faces in the car with him. They appeared at the back door, and Aarav struggled when he saw their eyes. The man licked his lips as he reached for Aarav.
Tears fell from his eyes, helpless tears of frustration. What could he do to these people? How could he escape? The man grabbed him with meaty palms and hoisted him out on his shoulder, the woman cooing and laughing at her man’s strength. Yes, the power he required to subdue and then carry an eight-year-old child that was already hurt and emaciated. What a hero he was.
The entrance to the house opened of its own accord, and Aarav saw a man standing behind it looking away from the man and woman that strolled in casually, just another Tuesday night. Aarav didn’t know what day it was, but it felt like a Tuesday. They went down, down a set of stairs that ended with a door. His twitching and squirming redoubled as he saw it. No! No! I don’t want to die here. Please! He screamed in his mind, the mouldy socks and his dry throat preventing anything but a muffled groan.
The woman laughed at Aarav’s struggles and groans. She walked ahead of the man and opened the door to take the boy through. He dumped Aarav there, in the middle of the floor of the dark, cold basement. He gasped as he hit the floor, and the wind knocked from his lungs. Then the sick couple walked out.
He was bound and gagged and weeping. Then a hand touched him, and his screams renewed, and a laugh rang out from behind the closing door. Then pitch blackness.
“Don’t worry. I am trying to help you.” A soft feminine voice can through as the hand moved to his gag and pulled the sock from his aching sore jaw, and he took his first fresh breath for what felt like a year. “Here, let me untie…” the small hand went to work, untying his hands and feet and allowing him to stretch and stand for the first time since he was tied. It was too horrible. What could he do? He could scream and yell. He could jump up and down. He could beat the walls. None of that would help, and most likely, it would hurt him. In his eight years, he had been in some very horrible situations but this.
“Where are we?” He kept his voice to a low hiss. The lack of moisture in his throat would not allow more than that. He tried to keep the fear from his voice. He failed.
“We are in a basement”, came the feminine voice with a short sharp laugh. “But, by your question, I assume you mean what situation are we in?”
“Yes, please.” Aarav could feel his body trembling, and the hand rested on his shoulder to try to calm him.
“I assume you are also from the street? They picked you up from the road and dumped you here? I am the same…” the girl was speaking Gujarati to him, small comfort that. But not much. “I don’t know what they are planning, but I have been there for a day now. Alone.” There was a small bite to the voice. He still couldn’t tell if it was a girl or boy. If they were about the same age as him, which was his guess, then it could have been either.
“Your Gujarati, not so common in Mumbai, and not on the street….”
“Yes…” not everyone wanted to share their life story, big surprise, hard to survive when people knew your weaknesses.
“I am glad that someone else is here with me…not here but…well you know.”
“I am also glad you are here with me. I-I understand.” Aarav felt something wet hit his wrist, and he recoiled, expecting blood or a knife or something. It was water, slightly salty to his tongue. He had to know what it was. A sigh escaped his dry cracking lips. He tasted blood. “What…is your name?” The quiet voice spoke again.
“Aarav,” If he was going to die, he wanted someone to know his name. “Aarav Sesan.”
“Ami Grost”, she replied. A girl, then. What is going on…?
“I am glad you did not scream or shout when you landed here. I tried that, but the man beat me.” Sobs were coming louder now. A hand clasped him in the darkness, and they stayed like that for what seemed like a long time.
Eventually, the door opened, and someone pushed a tray inside. One tray, and then the door was closed. The darkness was once again absolute. “Eat.” It was the only word spoken by a stoic man in the rapidly shutting door.
Ami brought the tray over to Aarav, she was quiet otherwise, and they ate the meal together in silence and harmony. They halved everything and ate by mutual consent, even though the meagre meal would not have been enough for either of them alone. The companionable silence was the one lifeline on to which they both desperately held, and it was all they had.
Summary: An eight-year-old Aarav is physically assaulted by a group of four older boys, and the money a passerby gave him is stolen. Another even older boy stitches his head wound from the beating and walks away. Aarav begins walking with some prospect of a better life and is kidnapped by a wealthy young couple who pretend to be drunk. Then he is put in their car while restrained. He is taken to the basement of their home and left there, where he finds a girl called Ami. They form a budding friendship through mutual hardship.
Aarav started awake, a pain in his body like something had pierced him while he slept, and he rubbed the site with a manifested paw. Ouch! Residual memories of a life well-lived, eh? He had thought of that time for a long while. The girl-the girl, unexpectedly tears began flowing from his eyes. He had hoped it was all behind him. Why was this plaguing him now? Was it because of the captivity he suffered now? This situation was nowhere near as bad. They had been good to him, feeding him and treating him with kindness once he talked to them. Aarav sighed as he realised that it wasn’t that dissimilar. A fragment of fear wormed its way further into his heart. Ami.
Consume has increased to Level 24!
You have just received +6 Luck! Better Luck Next Time!
Finally! So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours it felt like forever since he had received that sweet level-up notification. His Health bar showed he had also lost a few more Health points, so it was actual pain, not imagined. His paw kept rubbing. That was when he saw Haemish with a vial of green goo in his hand. The man was humming a quiet tune. Aarav manifested his mouth. “Hey! What is the big idea? Your taking body parts from me? That’s mine! Ask, and you shall receive!” Haemish turned to him with a guilty look in his eyes while raising his hand to his mouth and clearing his throat noisily. He looked at Haemish as if asking, what the hell?
“Yes, Resh. I just needed to check to see that all is within acceptable parameters. Nothing dangerous and unexpected. It shouldn’t cause us to worry. Also, to understand a little more about you and help you understand yourself. You said that you didn’t know some things about yourself?” Why is his face all over the place instead of looking at me when he said that? Why can’t he just be a decent person and look at the person talking to him? That was incredibly rude. Aarav did the only rational thing in a situation where someone was being an oddball and gave him the stink eye. Oh yeah. That’s the look.
Haemish now looked at Aarav more directly. Mission accomplished! “Are you alright? Not constipated?” Crashed and burned. You couldn’t win every sting eye contest. Moving on, Haemish still kept looking around after that, almost like he was avoiding Aarav’s gaze. The realisation hit him like an icy shower on a cold day when he heard a calm voice from behind him.
“Well, this suddenly became very, very interesting, Haemish. Tell me everything.”