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Pretium

Text The Prisoner

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Drip, drip, drip, drip

 

Constant, never ending.

 

-Act 1-

 

The cell was a 10x10 stony room. About 20 feet up there was a small barred window.

Somewhere above this cell, there must have been some leaky plumbing. The drop, or drops, formed at the top of the window from some unknown source and fell to the bottom of the window about every 4 seconds. Each seemed to commit suicide as soon as it got a good look at the miserable surroundings of its new dwelling and at the sole, miserable creature of which to keep company.

 

The creature was male. Exceedingly long, ratty, brown hair covered his face like a veil and ran down his back. The clothes, if they could still be called such, had once been the standard tan-colored long-sleeve jumper. Now only a fraction of the now almost black fabric remained. Tattered and ripped all over, it barely covered his torso and the top half of his legs. He sat with his legs crossed against the wall left of the window, staring up at it.

 

(488, 489, 490..) he always started the day this way. Counting 1,000 drops.

 

He didn't stop his counting when the small, rectangular slot on the wall to his left opened with a quiet electronic sound. The slot, as well as the door next to it and a bowl-shaped object in the corner, stood out amongst the rough, stony walls, floor and ceiling. They were so smooth and sophisticated in comparison to the barbaric cell. Although the rust helped them seem more at home. The metallic tray slid in as usual and the slot closed. He still paid it no mind.

 

(997, 998, 999, 1,000) He took a deep breath through his nostrils and then glanced at the tray. Not that he needed to. He could smell its contents. A glob of green and brown slop. He'd been served the same thing for the past.. how many years had it been? He couldn't recall. He reached out and picked up the tray, he wasn't looking forward to the process of nourishing his wretched body, whatever nourishment could be gained from.. whatever it was. There were no utensils, never were. He set the tray on his lap and slowly began digging out small portions with his fingers and started eating.

 

Then, something moved in the slop.. It just was a small wiggle. His eyes widened, more so than they had in a very long time. He reached inside the pile and pulled something out triumphantly. A grub, a pretty large one. His mouth watered as he slipped the worm between his lips as if it were a delicacy prepared by a gourmet chef.

This was going to be good day. He simply had no idea just how good.

 

 

 

 

 

-Act 2-

 

Dreams, he never had them. At least not while he slept at night. He did, however, sometimes black out. In the these blackouts he would have the most vivid of dreams. Showing, what he believed to be the halls and other areas of the prison, and even outside the walls. He saw magnificent visions of the planets' wildlife and forests that lay just outside his confinement. He wondered. We're they dreams at all? Maybe just memories buried and confined to his subconscious.. Or perhaps, something else entirely. They were so real to him. At times it felt as if the blackouts were his spirit escaping from his body, desperate to see something beyond these dripping walls.

 

By the time his eyes shot open, he heard the familiar sound of his tray sliding across the bumpy stones toward the slot. He reached out to grab the nearly full tray, but it was too late. The slot closed shut with a mechanical *Shunk*

He guessed he had probably been out for over 10 minutes. At meal time each day, a tray was slid in through the slot. After about 15 minutes, the slot would open back up, and an invisible force would pull the tray back through. Probably an electro magnet, he thought. His eyes narrowed in disappointed as he eyed his fingers, still covered in slop. He hadn't finished his meal, but that didn't matter so much once he remembered the worm.

 

(Mmm) He thought, almost grinning as he rubbed his belly. Suddenly, his mind turned away from food as he recalled the vision he had seen moments prior. How could he have forgotten it the first place? It was the most bizarre one yet. He sat in his cell, alone. Counting drops as he always did. When suddenly, there were no more drips. Not a sound. Then out of nowhere, the door to his cell burst open! And in came.. the worm. It looked exactly the one he had eaten.. Except much, much larger. As he stood to his feet, he noticed that even with only half of its body upright it stood taller than him. Hundreds of legs ran down its entire body. The ones on the rear half of its body scuttled along to propel the enormous worm forward. It stretched out a single arm towards him. At the moment he knew it had come for him. Come to free him from his life of solitude. It looked at him with what seemed like a look of reassurance. He didn't hesitate. He grabbed the outstretched arm and the worm led him out. It led him down winding halls and corridors. After a short time they came to a door. He looked at the worm worriedly. The worm simply shook his head as if to say, "It's ok." After a moment he reached out and pushed the open button on the console next to the door and it shot open. He expected to see the outside world. But there was just.. Blackness. It wasn't space, there were no stars.

 

Suddenly, he was sucked into the void. He shot one last glance at the worm as he was whirled away. He remained in the doorway, nodding reassuringly. In no time at all the doorway, along with the worm, were gone. Out of site forever. He quickly came to a stop. His body no longer being pulled. He was floating, alone once again. He began to feel the darkness come over him. It was like tentacles constricting his body. They started around his ankles and worked their way up. He struggled to no avail, he would be consumed.

Just as the darkness was about to cover him completely, he heard a voice. It was a familiar one he heard sometimes in his visions. It always said the same thing.

 

"Derren," it called out. And in that moment, a light burst forth. It broke a small hole in the darkness. The tentacles loosened, soon falling from him completely as the void of darkness began crumbling before him. Light piercing through every crack and break. "Derren-El!" He heard as the darkness shattered to nothing and he was engulfed in light!

 

He had heard that voice. He'd heard it say that word, "Derren." He'd even had visions of being alone in darkness, but the darkness had never been broken. And there was something else. He had never heard "Darren-El." That almost sounded like a name to him. Not that he knew much about them. What he did know was about numbers. His number, to be exact. Even if the patch on the right arm of his jumper

hadn't come off, he would never forget his number. "8842." The number

was tattooed on his chest. Never to be forgotten.

 

 

[Alright, that's all for now! I will update it later.]

Edited by Pretium

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