Lothar thought that the sudden horror of losing everything he knew, worked for, and loved would be the biggest trauma of his lives.

It wasn’t until he felt the genuine horror of what a scalpel could do if tilted at the right angle, in all the wrong places, that he realized he did not even taste what it was like to feel pain.

He had watched his fair share of crime documentaries about the sickest of the sick, the ones who found creative ways to wield an ordinary knife or nail or clippers. Nothing came close to the artist in white robes, with the black heart, standing in front of him.

It began with the thundering of their boots, clutching at the heartstrings of the wastrel and burrowing into the nightmares of gutter dwellers like him. They were followed by the indifferent gaze of the guards whom treated the beginning of Lothar’s end as regular Tuesday.

He had a bad feeling once he asked them about their whereabouts and they replied–Doctor’s clinic; they never reply when there was no benefit for them.

The echo of a silence he did not know existed weighed heavily on everyone’s mind;

so much so that he almost imagined the prisoners looking at him with pity—like they knew, deep in their hollow chests, that a fellow bastard was walking to his death.

Their steps faded away from the cells into the grand hall that lead to multiple doors.

The silence morphed into a dull buzzing that drowned out his half-coherent thoughts and turned his limbs numb. His fuzzy mind did not study the long corridors, so when they stopped in front of a new metal door with a silver sign, he was startled out of his mind by the gentle tap.

“C’mon, big guy. The doc is waiting for you.”

Lothar blinked at the guard whom he recognized as Leon; the one who never raised a baton at prisoners, but never protected one either.

“Levi?” The guard winced, then replied, “No, doctor Stevenson.”

Lothar mutely nodded.

Lothar did not respond. He couldn’t. He was still wrapping his head around the screeching noise that came from behind the doors, like metal fighting metal.

“I’d assume they would make them soundproof” Lothar mumbled.

“What?”

He looked at Leon and smiled “If I survive, would you bring me a cheeseburger as a celebration meal?”

The second guard scoffed and rapped his knuckles on the door again.

“This is still a prison, buddy. And you will survive.”

Lothar frowned when the door opened wide. A tired-looking nurse grabbed him by the shoulder with surprising force and shut the door in the guards’ faces without greetings.

He was shoved into another guy who already had a needle out. Lothar jumped back and bumped into the first man. He pivoted to his left, dodging the pointy end just barely before stumbling when he heard the cry of someone he knew. He halted for a second and would beat himself for it later.

His vision fogged immediately as he felt a stinging pain course through his neck. He glared down at the nurses who caught him before dropping. He barely felt himself getting dragged before passing out to the sound of their complaints and the Viking’s bloodcurdling howls.

“Fuck, he’s heavy!”

.....

“The first monarch will welcome us with hellfire.” Gus said as the door closed behind the inmate.

Leon scoffed "We’ll see our fair share of hellfire if we went against a noble family. I’d take my chances on the Monarch. He would be more merciful at least. They always say: It’s the things that you would never do. That’s how you know which stage of hell is going to welcome you. I give the prisoners a friendly pat on the back, and pleasant words now and then.”

“That’s what you tell yourself, huh? You fear heaven’s judgment so much that you forget about human wrath.” Gus mumbled the last part to himself, remembering the inmate’s look of pure fear and hatred.

“Whose wise grandpa said that?”

Gus pulled out a cigarette from his breast pocket “I ain’t one yet.” he offered one to Leon who refused.

“That shit will kill you before election day.” Gus snorted and exhaled smoke through his nose. His headache dulled.

“You know, a cousin of a cousin from ma’s side of the family is joining the race. Her husband’s business had been booming lately. You know the Ondrive service?”

Leon’s eyes widened “That his?”

Gus nodded “Yeah, it started small. Just a few cabs under his belt. Now he got a national ‘transportation’ business. Everybody and their grandmas are using it some way or another.”

Leon said, “So that’s how she got the money to be part of the election. Which list is she going to be part of?”

Gus shrugged “Between you and me, I heard from my grand aunt that she’s hoping the 12th monarch’s son would choose her to be part of his list. I think she’s aiming for the moon. There are many millionaires out there trying to kiss Adrian’s ass–Why choose her?”

“The nature of her husband’s business can be extremely useful to a future monarch.”

Gus nodded “Yeah, I suppose. I still believe she has more luck finding a place on the Monarch’s uncle's list.”

Leon grimaced “That crazy bastard wants to wage war against Alka to weaken their hold on our affairs. They will never let him win.”

“That’s true, but I am more inclined to have someone from my family with him than against him.”

“You’re with his policies?”

“Not most, but I surely don’t want to be at the end of that man’s wrath.” he smirked and continued “the old man might be radical in his beliefs, and a bit of a violent nutcase but that beats another sheep who would take orders from Alka, noble families and the council like obedient dogs. It’s time we plant ourselves equal to those occult freaks.”

Gus stomped his foot solidly as he finished while Leon deadpanned, “You don’t sound like someone who just sold one of his own to the worst of the ‘occult freaks’.”

Gus rolled his eyes, but still avoided Leon’s gaze. He said “Nah, he ain’t count. He’s a halfling, not human.”

“You know that term is horseshit. The only thing he did wrong was to be born like us. Makes you think: He ain’t welcomed amongst the Soulbounds and he’s hated for having Soulbound parents among regulars.”

“Sucks for him.” Gus took a whiff of his cigarettes and tuned out the screams from inside. Leon must have heard too much from Gus’ silence since he slammed a hand on the latter’s shoulder “Don’t worry, he will understand.”

Gus gave him an incredulous look “Who?”

“Who else? The first Monarch.” Leon shot back.

Gus chuckled and tossed his friend’s arm off his shoulder.

“Fuck that guy, ain’t nothing he can do while we breathe still. Tell me then who you’re gonna be voting for?”

.....

It hurts

He woke up to a radiant smile coming from the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. She spoke riddles in between lines of mocking sentences.

‘How are you doing?’

‘Do you need water?’

‘It will hurt a bit. Please be patient.’

She told him about hope, and that she would be his.

‘You’re the hope of every starving regular kid who was born without choice’

She lied. She was not his. Everyone called her Hope.

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He dangled on the fine line of consciousness like a master acrobat. It reminded him of his blackout tours when he would be in one place and end up in another. He would always wake up with bruises and cuts that he could never tell how he got.

This time, he was always strapped to the bed, but knew exactly where the pain was coming from.

Soon he fell asleep, not before he saw Stevenson come inside.

…..

It hurts

She said something about being lucky that I’m one of her husband’s chosen ones. He only felt sad she had a husband. She caressed his face gently and told him to go to sleep or see the sheep–he was half unconscious by then.

…..

It hurts

He woke up a second time to the taste of pain, knowing something was wrong by then. It looked blue and round, and they kept putting it under his tongue. It melted and sizzled so loudly that he could hear it inside his brain, when he sleeps and when he wakes. His tongue, mouth, gums and nose were all rendered useless.

And when his tears dried, and his pain dulled, they make him take another one.

Then it starts all over again.

…..

It hurts

The room was white, clean, and empty lest for the plugged in machines beeping now and then.

The red wolf was gone. He couldn’t hear its wails anymore but saw what remained of it on the bed that it died on.

The beautiful woman in white, his angel, she cleaned the blood–always cleaned him too, his blood, his tears, his smiles.

“Do you see these?”

It was the wolf’s pelt; he realized in his half delusion. They skinned it, but when? It was next to him and he heard its cries and then when it was finally quiet. It just stopped and they just left.

“It will make great material for Soulchanted coats. No more freezing kids in the slums.”

He opened his mouth, but stopped when he felt the stitches stretch. He wailed inside.

…

It hurts

It hurts to breathe. It hurts to see. It hurts to feel the hurt.

The blue pills have been the only thing he’s tasted for whatever how long he’s been here. They made him breathe it out through his nose, for whatever reason. Like smoking out toxic gas.

It tasted like acid and death and he wants his tongue to burn off completely so he wouldn’t have to taste it anymore.

…..

It hurts

The devil came and told him that the experiments worked. He cooed and told him he was his prized success—his favorite human. It made him feel special until the man smiled.

“We can start with the second now.”

…..

It hurts

The scalpel and needle had become more familiar with his body than any woman in his life. He laughed and snapped the stitches around his lips.

…..

It hurts

At some point, he must have blurted out everything. He screamed his truth; that he was a normal earthling, an alcoholic high school teacher named after a great warrior by his father. That he was not Vols Chathier or Tink’s agent. The sounds came out as gurgles, not words, so no one understood. He begged and pleaded, but they had taken away his voice. He cursed and called for the worm, Tink, Droj, Leon, anyone. They knew what was happening, but they clogged their ears and buried their heads.

Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards Bastards—

—And then she came.

His angel came that day. She smiled and kissed his forehead.

“Good job, birdie. We’ll see you next time.”

She pushed him up, helped him out of his scrubs and into his old overalls.

He tried to check if he smelled, but his nose was still burning. He realized he could only smell burning hair.

She helped him drink some sort of soothing medicine that did nothing to his inability to talk and pushed him on his way. With unsteady feet, he wobbled and struggled to walk, but took his first steps in who knows how long. Before he let the male nurses take him out, he looked at her one last time and opened his dry, stiff, and infected mouth.

I’ll kill you. I’ll kill you all.

She turned her head in confusion, but still smiled. He realized she always smiled, even when her husband was feeding him the cursed pills, or cutting him with his tools.

“Take care, birdie.”

.….

“Gus, take him back.”

Gus jumped and turned as the doors opened. He and his partner took a long look at the half-dead inmate and both glued their eyes anywhere else.

Part of the job, I follow orders. I have a family to feed, I don’t got any talents or degree to get me somewhere else. Think of Talia and Anthony. Talia and Anthony.

A mantra he was always reminded of when faced with the horrors of his job, and it always helped ground him.

“Roger that.” He replied and swiftly placed the unresponsive man on his shoulder. Leon did not move to help.

“Seems you returned him a bit for wear. Isn’t it his first time? You guys are gentle on their first time.” Leon’s voice was strained, as if he was fighting to keep the words down, but eventually failed.

Dumbass! No good wife or kids to put some sense into him.

“That is the doctor’s business.” Replied curtly one of the male nurses and dropped the other arm of the inmate. Gus cursed and almost toppled over with the entire weight on his shoulder before Leon came to his rescue. He shot a glare at his partner, hoping all the words he couldn’t say were transferred, but was met with a flat look.

“Don’t move his head around too much, it will feel like needles prickling his skin for now... "

The nurse hesitated before saying, "Tell him what he endured would be for the greater good.”

And with that, they closed the door and left Gus and Leon to their task.

“I’m not being bribed enough for this.” Mumbled Gus as he looked at the melted outline of the inmate’s mouth.

Why didn’t they heal him? Where is Shauna? Did she already leave with the other high level Fanes responsible for these experiments?

“She’s gone” Gus looked up and saw his partner mirroring what must be his own expression. He replied,

“Yeah, they’re coming it seems. Fuck... I owe Rex twenty credits.” Leon ignored his partner’s discontent expression and went on.

“What do you think will happen to us?” The young guard looked anxiously at nothing, and Gus felt like he had to comfort him somehow.

“Don’t worry, Al will take care of everything.” It was easy to channel false confidence into his empty words. He’s been doing it so long around his family that it became second nature.

“The warden? But he’s never here.”

“It’s still his prison, though. He’s a busy man, or that’s what they tell me. His wife is friends with my sister in law, so he’ll take care of me and you by default. Don’t worry.” Gus’ words must have relieved Leon since he beamed.

“You’re well connected for a puny prison guard.”

Gus smiled “I married the right woman. She’s the powerhouse in our family. Gods bless her soul.”

Gus’ smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Once Leon turned, he let it drop and thought about how he would tell his wife and son that he had been—and still is, actively pocking a landmine beneath everything they built together.

.….