(James)
A man hides in near total darkness. His long hair cascaded down his back like moonlight, and he was leaning against the cold hard wall, and his sharp black eyes peered over his folded arms watching the doorway that remained closed. He never knows what happens out there unless someone calls for him to have him do something.
The chains around his wrists and ankles make a clinking noise as he tries to deal with the boredom that seems to drive him crazy. Then a few seconds later, the short sharp squeaks echoed across the room, and the young man with sharp silver hair glanced across the room and saw the rats crossing the room which became a familiar appearance to him.
He faintly smiled, "Hey friends, nice to know I'm not forgotten."
But the rats didn't respond to him but it didn't make James sad, he just watched with curiosity when the rats were playing in his little room that was almost suffocating him. Two years ago, it used to bother him, but no more.
The rats continued to make squeaking sounds until the door was slammed open, and the two familiar large men entered the room with a disdainful expression, "Hey slave, come and do these chores."
James calmly rose to his feet and let the two guards out of the room, although he didn't have any powers, so he couldn't fight back if he wanted to. He could feel the hands pushing him and not giving him any chance to prepare, and he was silent the entire way until he heard something outside the windows. He turned his head and saw a group of people getting dressed in nice clothes if there was a special gathering.
When he froze for a brief moment, the guards took advantage and pushed him to the ground, and he bit his tongue when he felt the blooming pain in his ribs when the guards kicked his side like he was worth nothing.
He didn't cry out, already used to the pain, and pushed back his hair, and rose again. The pain in his side became a nuisance and he walked with a grimace on his face, till he reached outside. No one glanced in his direction, for it was a normal sight to see him. They all knew that he was a former heir.
All of them stayed out of his way like he was some kind of disease, and he was pushed to the ground by the hands behind, James stayed silent like a mute broken doll. He stared at the guards who watched him with a sneer curling on their faces.
"Your brother wants you out of sight."
James remained with an icy expression.
But the guards sneered, "Pull out the weeds from the bushes."
James looked in the direction of the weeds and knew the intent behind the task–to cause him more pain. Nearly all the bushes carry some thorns, and if he starts tugging out the weeds from the bushes, his hands will be deeply embedded with thorns.
He smiled, his face filled with mocking, "Of course, tell my brother to buy me some medicine afterwards."
Out of nowhere, a sharp slap echoes in the air.
James remained smiling despite the blood trickling down his cheeks, the blood tasted of iron, warm on his tongue. With a cold laugh, he wiped the blood from his lips, and one guard couldn't keep a sneer on his face and walked to James with a malicious gaze, and pushed him to the ground.
James's breath caught as the boot crushed his back, and the sharp pain everywhere wracked his body, and he could hear the menacing voice, "Keep acting like a fool, and get the task done. Otherwise, don't blame me when your brothers come to punish you."
James glared sharply into the ground. He wanted to fight back against the boots on his back and the hands on his head but that was impossible with his strength and powers all gone. He had to act submissive in order to survive, and he was no stranger to it, "Of course."
His words are soft and obedient like a broken puppet, like he was broken. But deep down, he's not broken. He will get his revenge. No matter what.
The hands on his back and the boots all moved away which allowed him to get fresh, and he could feel the pressing shape in his clothes, and he turned his back to the guards who gave him a last sneer before they left. Leaving James alone with his thoughts.
James gathered to his knees and looked at the vines poking through the bushes, and he steeled his face for the pain. He went to grab the weeds and his skin began to bleed out, and he gritted his teeth through the pain like he was used to it.
He went on it for nearly an hour. He was getting exhausted, and he wiped the sweat away from his face, and a sharp, rhythmic sound echoing across the ground echoed loudly in his ears.
He turned his head.
A pale woman with black hair cascading like midnight silk and her crimson eyes gleaming with something unreadable, walked into the garden only meant for royalty, but somehow she got in.
Who is she?
Curiosity flickered like a thread pulled taut in his mind, and the woman turned to him with a wicked smile, and it sent a tingle through his body.
She walked where royalty feared to tread. And for the first time in years, James felt something stir–something dangerous.