A slumped figure sat in a dirty and putrid cell, staring with half lidded eyes at the corroded bars stained with rust with not much emotion apparent.
It's fingers caressed its side, as if expecting the lancing pain to suddenly flare out.
However, oddly so, the expecting pain did not occur, much to the figure's misplaced confusion.
"Its.... healed?" He muttered.
'The wound healed? Did someone heal it?' He thought to himself.
'But, why?'
*Squeak* *Squeak*
Noel's eyes drifted slowly to the squeaking sound near him, his head slightly tilting at the chittering. A small mouse was devouring the crumbs of the biscuit he had obtained back from Elias's mansion.
From his vision, the biscuit had somehow dropped into fragments from his pocket, marking it as a sumptuous lunch for the fervent creature.
Noel watched it for a moment.
Its beady eyes shook as it ate the crumbs happily, scurrying away with Noel's sudden movements, his filthy nails scratching his unshaved beard.
'.....'
Noel closed his eyes as he leaned his head back to the dirty, cracked wall that emanated coldness through its walls, inscribed with different carvings that seemed nothing short of nonsense in his eyes.
'What would criminal say anyways, other than marking their days, or cursing others for their misfortune'
Still, it depicted that even criminals held the basic ability for literature. It was crude, yes, but it was writing nonetheless. Still, it mattered little to him.
He couldn't tell what time it was, but no doubt it was the early evening from the gradual transition in coolness divergent from that of hours prior.
Still, no sunlight was visible, so he couldn't entirely attest to his speculations. Perhaps it was because he was in the north parts of some country or whatnot.
'Frankly, I have no idea whatsoever wherever I am, or why I am here in the first place.'
He felt none the wiser. Despite attempting several times to look out the bars, they were placed too high up for him to reach.
The only thing he heard was the endless gibberish talking of people down the streets, or so he presumed outside of the bars entrapping him, sounds of carriages and what sounded like early vehicles that sounded like they utilized some kind of steam engine, and the sellers calling, selling their merchandise.
It seemed like a fairly advanced world was beyond the walls, the barrier between him and society thin.
Noel licked his dry lower lip and let out a sigh of helpessness.
"Is this truly all a result of my actions .... ?"
He spoke outloud, as if his long silence had finally assisted him reach an answer. He let himself sink into the silence, as he seriously pondered, reflecting upon himself his actions so far.
'How nonsensical'
His tired eyes wandered aimlessly, as if they didn't know where to look at. He felt an imperceptible desire to cry.
---------'
'.... So far, I've really done nothing'
I've thought on it myself for quite a while now, holding back my growing doubt when I was back in my original world, Earth.
When I think about it now, I truly realize that I've done absolutely nothing in my whole life.
That I was simply no different from everyone else in terms of everything,.
I was never special.
I didn't possess higher intellect, nor did I wield exceptional power. I wasn't even rich.
'I've achieved nothing either'
What did I ever achieve?
I thought to myself for a moment, my eyes staring down at the floor lazily, my head hung down.
Nothing.
I couldn't come up with anything. I don't think I actually remember something considerable I actually achieved.
No, scratch that.
I didn't even achieve something negligible either, something to recall at all. Literally, nothing. An empty life.
I ran a finger through my palm, thinking on it, my mind detached from reality.
I just went on with life, thinking that somehow everything would end up in my hands. Achievements, glory, happiness, everything.
I thought that I would somehow change, to find a spark, something that ignited within me. Perhaps it was to escape the emotion I felt when I left my sister to die.
That is why when I came to this world, I .... I was no different from when I was back on earth.
I thought that I would change, but it seems that could not be closer to the truth. I guess the saying my friend, my colleague kept uttering was nothing short of nonsense.
Come to think of it, my memories of earth have been oddly fading away ever since I've boarded the train with Exil.
Environments changed people?
What a joke.
It only changed their appearance, but never their mentality. How could someone hope change their mentality in a moment's time with just a shift of environment?
Or .....maybe the issue lies with me in the first place?
Lets not think about it more.
I let out another tired sigh, as if my fried brain could not think properly anymore. The headache in my head had only worsened, causing me to frown and push a finger against my temple.
How pathetic.
To think that I would even try to make excuses for myself to escape my current predicament. It truly is unsightly.
All I ever did was complain about the world being unjust, complain about why I was so close to death, why I was so unnaturally unlucky as if the world had personal hostility towards me, when the answer was before me as clear as day, as bright as the sun, and as illuminate as the moon.
But did I really move? Did I take a single action of progress despite all that clear evidence?
To find whoever the fuck this 'Helio' was?
What Elias wanted of me, and why? Why she couldn't just go herself, and why she had entrusted me?
Or.
Why ....
.... My older sister decided to kill me? No, the last one is obvious.
I let out a hollow laugh.
Did I really think I was wrong in all my actions? Was I ever honest with myself, highlighting my patheticness in being overly passive?
No.
Did I do anything at all, good or bad, correct or incorrect?
No.
Well, I got my answer.
I frowned irritatedly when my memories drifted back to the time I had talked to Elias.
From what I recall, she seemed like she was able to evaluate me at first glance as if I was an open book, nothing more than something to be read in a moment's glance, and expended.
Used, used, and used.
That's all I was worth.
I grinded my molars in frustration.
F.u.c.k.
I violently ruffled my dry hair, as if to tear it.
If even environment doesn't change someone's mindset, then what does? Is there anything that can change my fucking mindset?
Why do I want to change my mindset, anyways? Unlike back on earth, isn't it to survive here as long as possible?
Who knows, perhaps if I try to survive instead of being so fucking passive, I could live for another day. Another fucking day.
I went silent, before letting out a low laugh.
To think I would try to survive life and death one day. My worries on earth at most did not exceed the fear of not finding something to eat for dinner.
No, lets look from a clear perspective. Clear your mind, for now.
Where am I, and what should I do now?
I looked around me in the dark, and musty room, where the strong smell of rust, rot, and humidity emanated. I creased my brows in displeasure at the smell in this cell.
What a filthy cell.
I huddled my body as to gather as much warmth as possible, my arms shaking from the cold air outside that seeped inside. My body felt like it was freezing from the inside out.
Ok, so where do I start?
Lets see ....
I jogged my memories of the past few days in this cell, as if trying to recall the specific details. But even so, my headache continued on worsening.
Damn it, lets think on it later.
My head felt heavier than ever, and so did my eyelids as if they were made out of pure lead. But I was not granted the luxury of being able to sleep easily. I merely closed my eyes for a long while, tightly shutting my eyes as if attempting my best to sleep.
It took a while, but-
Eventually, I fell asleep.
---------
Creak!
"Com'out"
His eyelids fluttered open at the sudden gruff voice he'd heard for the first time for a long while, ever since being thrown in this abandoned cell with nothing but his wounds healed.
'No, the first voice since I've been thrown into this cell'
Since he'd woken up two days ago, he hadn't heard a sound other than that of the hungry gluttonous mice that kept coming back with their older ancestors, and the companionship chirping sound of unnatural looking crawling pale white insects that infested the corners and edges of the cell, their shells coated with mucus vibrating like cicadas.
But even so, every time he woke up, he had found a foul-smelling bowl placed right in front of the locked bars of what seemed like porridge and dry bread that would have put stones to shame. Of course, besides it was a murky liquid that he assumed it had resembled water one day.
He had reluctantly eaten it out of the necessity of survival, yet his taste buds had protested against every bite he had taken without an ounce of regret.
Noel raised his head hurriedly to look at the owner of the voice. But before he was able to outline the owner, the stock of a rifle violently struck his face unexpectedly, causing him to cover his bloody mouth in the agonizing assault that transmit to his brain.
"Argh!"
"Filthy mongrel lookin' at ma' feet" A coarse torrent of language erupted from the voice of what seemed like a disciplined soldier who wore a dark blue military uniform. With the bolt-action rifle equipped in his hands, he wiped the thread of saliva that had flew on the stock on Noel's face.
Noel felt the world spinning with him in a spiral of dizziness, as he struggled to maintain his balanace and fell to the ground, holding his head. The taste of rust seeped in his mouth as he covered his mouth in fear of teeth having been broken off.
'Fuck, fucking hell, that hurts so fucking much. The hell was that for, you son of a bitch?'
Despite his anger, Noel did not dare to utter a word, and merely scowled internally at the pain.
"'quisitor's here to do yeh good, dog. Ain't know what God's plan is, Ms. Schowittz knowin to saving an animal on the road like ya"
Despite the pain of his mouth and dizzy mind, Noel's brain did not fail to imprint the important name mentioned by the dog-like soldier.
'I'll surely kill this motherfucker if I ever get out of here and hang his head for the dogs to salivate at.'
However, his ears caught unfamiliar term reached at the same instant he was delibrating how to annihilate the man before him.
If he wanted to survive for another day on this God-forsaken planet, then he'd need to do more than just sitting with nothing in mind.
Step no.1: Information gathering
'Did he mention an inquisitor? An inquisitor of what exactly?' Noel wondered internally. 'Don't tell me ... an inquisitor of some kind of Church? Churches exist here? No, that's besides the point, In the first place, why would I need to be inquisited Isn't that usually just for heretics?'
'Something smells oddly fishy'
'And Schowittz, is that the name of the woman who was there right before I died ... or is he referring someone else?'
'All questions, no answers. I'm hating this attempt at changing my mentality already. Its exhausting'
Before he was able to react however at his words, he heard the sound of several footsteps walking in leisurely. His head was effortlessly pushed to the ground as if he was child, his hands placed behind his back.
Knowing that resistance was futile, or worse, could lead to a broken arm or so, he surrendered his body to them unwilling.
His detainers detained him with harsh handcuffs that felt like they were like blades cutting off his wrists at the first movement of resistance.
It felt uncomfortable for Noel to give up like this without a fight, but his life was worth much more to him.
He let out a grunt of pain and discomfort and spat out the blood from his torn reddish tongue.
"I recommend not moving much, Mr. Prisoner. That is the advice I strongly recommend now, before all things, you see. "
The calm voice of a man came, as the footsteps accompanying it walked towards Noel's position. It stood there for a few moments, as if evaluating him.
"Perfect, perfect. You see, let me explain. Our rabid hounds, known to be infected purposefully of the worst case, have been quite hungry as of lately due to ongoing striffle with the opposing nation, and of course, you would be so generous as to feed them and their young pups, would you not? Executions have been quite expensive as of late, so as you see, those are in fact appointments specifically scheduled for people with a better position than yours, and currently all positions are booked"
"Now, now, don't go putting the distraught damsel before the excited soldier, just of yet."
The man let out a laugh.
"We just have a few words to have with you before putting you on the way. If you are lucky, perhaps we'll be kind enough to spare a lead casing or so of the Great Lord's mercy and tears"
The man strolled around.
"Or if not, hm ... if not, then what? What other offer can I offer .... ? Ah, I've recalled. We also have a nest of hungry insects, the miniatured-sized Esengland Butterflies. They have a preference in nesting their young in a man's every orifice"
Noel who could not see anything other than the man's black leather shoe, strained his ears as the man's footsteps walked away, and suddenly, the scurrying and sudden movement took Noel's attention, as he bent his neck to look at where the man was walking.
Crunch.
Squeak.
"So I strongly, no, I highly recommend you follow us, lest you meet the Great Lord quite rapidly"
The sound of the man's heavy leather shoes crushing the mouse that Noel has been feeding for several days echoed, as the man continued twisting his foot on the hard floor of the cell, making sure that the mouse under his foot was disfigured from how much it was crushed.
Noel merely stared there blankly, his eyes trailing after the man's bloody footprints.
Satisfied, the man walked out of the cell.
"Take him out"