Chapter 13: Chapter 13: Miserable Arthur
Near a cell, full of slaves who appeared comical due to lack of food, a few guards sat surrounding a large table, replete with various kinds of food and drinks.
Several slaves stood in front of the iron bars of the cell, watching the food plates placed on the table with drooling eyes, their intense desire to eat those meals almost bursting forth.
One of the guards looked at the group of slaves and smiled sarcastically. He picked up a piece of chicken thigh and began to wave it provocatively in front of them.
The slaves looked at this piece of chicken as they swallowed hard, holding a small hope that the guards would give it to them. However, after waving it several times, he callously threw it to a fierce dog sitting next to the guards.
"James, stop making fun of the slaves; they are suffering enough," one of the armored guards spoke while chewing food savagely. His name was John, and his face was fierce and scarred. His eyes were brown, and he had black hair on his head. After delivering his words, he also picked up a piece of chicken and callously threw it to the slaves.
The sudden movement startled the slaves as a small piece of chicken fell in front of them. This meager portion would barely suffice for one person, but there were dozens of slaves confined in that cell.
The slaves exchanged wild glances and immediately began fighting to seize that piece of chicken. Amidst the chaotic struggle, James, the guard named earlier, observed the slave battle and appeared surprised.
"Hahahaha, look who's talking about mocking the slaves," James laughed, addressing the guard who had thrown the meat. He had earlier portrayed himself as a compassionate person, sympathizing with the plight of these imprisoned monsters.
However, it became evident that he was merely a wolf in sheep's clothing, pretending to be kind.
John also laughed, and soon all the guards joined in, their delight filling the dining table while showing no concern for the suffering slaves around them.
Once John finished his meal, he settled comfortably in his chair, holding his stomach to indicate that he was full, and then started observing the slaves' ongoing fight for food.
After taking a moment to contemplate the slaves, he recalled something and turned to James, asking, "By the way, what happened to that kid who was sent to the sub-cell? The old one."
"You mean that boy I found hiding behind the quarry," James responded casually, showing no remorse for the fact that he was the one who led Arthur to all this torment. He was responsible for locking Arthur up on his first day.
"I don't know. After I sent him to Don Quixote Bernardo and he was brought back to us in a catastrophic state, he ordered us to put him in a cell alone. The last time I visited that place was 20 days ago, and I discovered that the old man had died and decayed.
The boy was still alive, but he had become nothing more than a skeleton. He might have died by this time. I didn't give him any food during these two months, only seven times or less," James said, considering this to be a normal occurrence.
In this place, slaves dying due to the negligence of the guards or mistreatment was considered something ordinary.
"Go and take a look at him. Maybe you'll find him still alive, feeding on rats and mold," John sneered as he picked up a glass of drink and downed it in one gulp.
"Hahahahaha, that's something that doesn't make sense!" Everyone started laughing, and the atmosphere of joy returned to the table. In the cell next to them stood one of the slaves, a giant figure, holding a piece of chicken and eating it with pleasure, while tears streamed down his eyes.
Behind him, several lifeless bodies lay on the ground, and the remaining slaves moved away from him in fear. Such was the life of the slaves, where they fought and killed each other daily to get even a morsel of food.
After the meal was over, and all the guards returned to their positions, James headed towards the sub-cell where Arthur was held. He was curious about Arthur's condition after they talked about him today.
Walking through several dark corridors, he moved away from the hustle and bustle of the slave-filled cells until he reached a quiet area with limited access to light. The floor was damp, and the ceiling leaked a few drops of water.
Drop!
Drop!
The sound of water droplets hitting the ground gave the place an atmosphere of gloom and loneliness. James stood in front of the small cell, observing the human figure sitting inside. The place was so dark that he couldn't see Arthur clearly. He pulled out his lighter and ignited an old torch hanging on the wall.
The orange flames flickered as James moved his hand, providing minimal illumination and making the view clearer. He held the torch close to the bars of the cell door and peered intently at what was in front of him.
"Aah!" James shouted, immediately dropping the torch when he saw the sight before him. Arthur sat covered in dirt and blood, holding the remains of a small animal, devouring it savagely. Bones surrounded him, forming a small pile.
"Fuck you, you bastard! You scared me. It looks like you're still alive," James mumbled, picking up the torch from the ground and adjusting his stance. He had expected to encounter a human corpse, and seeing Arthur alive in such a catastrophic state startled him.
"Goodbye, madman," James quickly walked away from the cell, swearing to himself that he would never return to it again. He felt afraid of Arthur; his empty eyes and chilling glances sent shivers down the guard's spine.
After James left, the place returned to its usual state.
Drop!
The sound of water droplets hitting the ground was the only thing Arthur could hear. He gazed at the ceiling and observed a small drop of water forming before it fell to the ground. Arthur's vision was surprisingly clear as he had become accustomed to the darkness.
After spending about 3 months in this place, Arthur had undergone significant changes. His hair had grown long, reaching down to his neck, but it had become thin and limp due to the lack of hygiene and care.
The whiteness surrounding his pupils had turned reddish-black, and his body had weakened, becoming thin and losing its natural color, taking on a bluish hue. His hazel brown eyes had lost all signs of life and now appeared empty, as if they were simply awaiting death.
During these three months, Arthur had contemplated death numerous times, and there were situations where if he had given up, he would be dead by now.
However, he kept questioning himself, wondering why he always managed to gather his strength and keep fighting. He had the desire to die and escape his suffering, but simultaneously, he yearned to stay alive, to be free, and to live his life.
This inner conflict and contradiction in Arthur's thoughts led to the development of a kind of schizophrenia, causing his mood to rapidly fluctuate.
During this time, Arthur's body had undergone significant treatment. His wounds had been attended to, and his ribs had been mended, but his legs still remained weak, allowing him only to stand up briefly, as he gradually accustomed them to carrying his weight.
"How long has it been since I last had a delicacy?" A drop of saliva dripped from Arthur's mouth as he began to imagine the delicious food from his world. "Delicious food, come to my stomach." Arthur extended his hand forward, as if trying to grab something, but there was only air in front of him.
In his mind, several delectable dishes floated, showering him with their tantalizing aroma. A sinister smile formed on Arthur's face as he reached out his hands.
Suddenly, the smile vanished, and he withdrew his hands. He came to his senses, realizing that it was just another hallucination. The room was dimly lit, and Arthur had lost any sense of days, nights, or time a very long time ago.
At first, he thought he was hallucinating again, but then he noticed that his body was surrounded by a soft light. "Oh, it's you again," Arthur said, gazing at the warm glow surrounding him.
Signs of life began to return to his face, and the comforting warmth reminded him of his happy childhood days with his parents. Though the light lasted only briefly before fading away, that fleeting of comfort was something Arthur desperately needed.
_________________
If you want to support me or just read ahead of the public release this is the place to go :
patreon.com/ahiro
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone