The clanking of the guards' armor echoed down the halls. While leaning against the stone wall, I gently hugged Raphtalia’s neck, allowing her to breathe. She sat between my legs, cradling back and forth. Her teeth clattered rapidly as her body shivered along with her mouth. My hands rubbed her skin, hoping it would calm her down.

She forced words out, but her normal, joyful voice could not be heard. “We really messed up today,” she said.

I didn’t respond. No words could describe what might happen. All we could do was look after one another.

We were blamed for the dirtiness of the stairwell, even though it wasn’t our fault. It was impossible to clean.

I saw a glimpse of the guards through the dull iron bars. Rattling keys followed the creaking gate. They entered the room wearing all white besides their golden boots, cracking a sinister laugh that would bounce off the walls.

One man loomed over us. His face was rotten with a vile smirk. They forcibly snatched Raphtalia out of my grasp as she screamed in terror. I got up, trying to separate the guards’ grip, but any effort was futile. I was fighting a battle I couldn’t win.

Within seconds, I collapsed onto the ground, unable to breathe. A hole was punched through my stomach. At least that’s how it felt. Curdled up into a ball, mucus dripped down my mouth. The world somehow stopped.

On her feet, Raphtalia was doing whatever she could to break out of the demon’s grip. Similar to me, her efforts also failed. It was all about the unbalanced difference of strength. She couldn’t do anything but scream. They got raspier by the count.

“Take Jill with us,” said one guard.

I glanced at the man whose rough grip squeezed my veins. His face was plagued with a scar that ran down the bottom of his eye. He dragged me through the concrete floor. I thought my arm was going to rip off.

A wailing of cries followed the dreadful screams. She was letting the entire world know the evil these men were about to commit. They dragged me into the same room as her. Raphtalia’s limbs were attached to the chair. A cloth was around her head and into her mouth like a gag.

On my left was a square table which was bigger than me. I couldn't see exactly what was on the table, but I knew what they would do.

My sweaty palms slammed the floor as I tried to find any strength to get on my feet. With every ounce within me, I barely lifted my stomach off the ground. I curled my news into my chest, trying to sit upright, but someone instantly kicked me in the same spot as before. Saliva flew out of my mouth as I hit the ground once again. My stomach churned in pain. I felt a metal boot on my back. He wasn’t applying any pressure; it was there so that I wouldn’t get up.

“Start the show, Vincent,” said the man above me.

The guard next to Raphtalia gave a smirk that betrayed all innocence. He grabbed a large glove from the table, covering most of his forearm. From there, he gripped onto a heated metal rod, which gave the image of the sun. Its rigid tip shone brightly enough to serve as a guide in the dark.

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He crept around her with the metal sun, hovering it over Raphtalia's skin. All she could do was sit there, praying that, somehow, she doesn’t come in contact with the rod. She shook the bones off of her skin while monitoring the metal sun.

I couldn’t handle this. Was I going to sit around without a fight?

I snapped, “You bastard! Touch her even once, and you're dead!”

The man above stomped my back with all his might, flatting it like my hope. “It’s rude to interrupt a show.”

Play it smart. As much as it killed me, I couldn’t retaliate anymore. Things might end up being worse. So, for now, I’ll pray Raphtalia could handle whatever the guard might have in store.

The guard lifted the rod over her shoulder, slowly shrinking the distance between her and her nightmare. From experience, the guard would place it on the shoulder for a few seconds, letting it sizzle. Muffled screams would release as she tried to move her limbs. All of this was so familiar and yet so dreadful.

My throat was drier than the guards' hearts. I clamped my eyes shut.

I… I can’t do anything.

Rapthtalia’s muffled screams overpowered the faint sizzling sound. It connected. I gasped, opening my eyes. Hot tears rushed down her cheeks. Panting, she tried kicking her legs away from the chair.

These people didn’t care. They never cared. They could’ve left us to die. So why? Why put us through this?

What was the reason?

The guard above me spoke like an idea had clicked into his head.

“Oh wait! Before you go for round two, don’t we have a new girl?”

“Ya, so what?”

“Why don’t we show her around and maybe give her the same treatment as her?” He pointed to Raphtalia. “The fresh ones have the better screams.”

What they said went in one ear and out the other. My eyes locked with Raphtalia. She was the only thing I cared about.

The pressure released from my foot. The door opened only to slam shut again.

“We’re gonna come back and put you where y’all belong. For now, stay here, fucking dogs.” They snickered their way to their next target.

My back screeched with a sharp pain, but there was no time to complain. Raphtalia had it worse. On my fours, I dragged myself over to her. Her entire body was soaked in sweat, quivering in a stage of fright I’d never seen her in. My mouth partially opened, but my vocals were too stunned to stay anything. I ignored the gruesome burn on her shoulder and gazed at her beautiful eyes instead. How could someone do this to an angel like her?

Tears slowly dripped from my cheek. I cried. I cried till I could no longer control my breath and choked on the air I inhaled. Physically, I wasn’t the one who was injured, yet I still foolishly cried. It was the first time I felt this way. Whenever someone else got this treatment, I didn’t give a damn. I rarely spoke with them. They never spoke with me. They were complete strangers. This time was different. Raphtalia was the first person who actively talked to me, constantly complimented me, and even went so far as to create a lifelong promise. She was the first person I adored. My first genuine friend. She’s the only one who saw me as someone and not as a worthless being.

For me to be able not to do anything and watch demonic beings hurt her like that. It crushed my heart. It crushed it so hard that I thought it would never revive.

I’m too weak to protect her. I’m too timid to protect her.

I had to become the opposite of what I was—enough of this weakness. I had to throw that to the side, never to be touched again. Somehow, I needed to become less of myself to protect the only person I love.