Dark

There was a lot of pain, and the world went dark. Trying to escape intensified the tearing feeling, which in turn increased the heavy fatigue pulling down, down, down, like gravity that was too strong. Howls sounded, some close, some far. They sounded angry, and then they were gone. And there was nothing.

Bare skin scraped against tree bark as Roland tried to move some time later. He opened his eyes in pain and shock, realizing his hands were bound behind him. He was leaned against a tree. No one had bothered to dress him; he was still in his short pants-like undergarment that he had been swimming in when the wolves attacked.

How long ago had that been? He looked down at his shoulder, from which an enormous amount pain radiated.

A large, semi-circular bite mark was barely visible in the darkness, near the outline of his mother's necklace that still hung around his neck. Or maybe his imagination filled in the sight that he expected to see. It had scabbed over somehow, but he could feel some oozing on his back. There must be a matching set of bite marks he had upset by moving against the tree bark. It so hurt badly his head spun slightly. There must be another wound on his opposite wrist, judging from the pain there. Maybe the rope had rubbed it raw?

How had he survived? The last thing he remembered was being dragged off into the woods by the wolves. He was sure as he lost consciousness that he was about to be eaten. Why had that changed?

He tried swallowing and realized how dry his throat was. His stomach cramped with hunger. Just how long had he been unconscious? At least several hours, as it was dark now. A soft groan escaped his lips as he tried to turn his head and look around him. He might have a concussion as well, from the intensity of his headache.

It was utterly, oppressively dark and quiet. It reminded him of his nightmares.

"Can you hear me?" A whisper came from the darkness. Roland froze as the realization that he wasn't alone sank in.

"Where am I?" He whispered back. His voice was almost silent as it left his mouth. He throat was so dry.

"What?"

"Where am I?" He tried, louder. Despite all the effort, his voice came out barely above a whisper.

"In the Dark Place."

Well, that was extremely helpful and not at all ominous. Roland waited in silence, hoping the quiet voice would continue.

"They brought you here earlier. It's where they keep us. Like a closet, except with lots of doors."

Roland must have a concussion. "Like a closet... with lots of doors?" He strained his mind to understand.

"They're not here right now, but I think they will be back soon."

"Who?"

"Rhone." The word made Roland shiver, even though he'd all but known that was likely the case. "They bring the wolves sometimes, or other things."

Roland squinted in the darkness and realized he could hear nothing but silence, yet felt the presence of others.

"Who else is here now?" The man could sense a few dozen, at least, he thought.

"Mostly us kids, and the women, I think. I can't see them but they came in with me." The sense was slowly seeping back into Roland's battered mind. He hadn't realized until this moment he'd been speaking to a child.

"What's your name?" He asked more gently than he had been speaking. He struggled slightly to turn towards the young speaker. The darkness was oppressive, and he could barely see more than a foot from his face.

"Gabe."

A dim light of memory flickered in Roland's aching mind. "Gabe... Gabriel?"

"Yes. What's your name?" Gabe asked.

"I'm Roland. Do you have a sister--" He winced and coughed around the soreness in his throat.

"Finn? You know Finn?? Is she ok? The wolves bit her..." The boy's excited whisper faded on the last words.

"Yes, I met Serafina on the way to Klain. She is well and living there with... my family." Speaking was increasingly difficult.

"Thank you, Roland." Gabe was silent for a while, either because he had much to think about, or because he sensed how difficult conversation was for Roland.

After a few moments, the man spoke again, "Do you... is there any water?" He was straining his voice as if to yell, but still, it was no louder than a whisper.

He tried to move again, and realized his feet were tied together as well as his hands. He couldn't even see his own legs in the darkness. Soon a small hand found his shoulder. He winced, and the hand pulled back and moved up to his face. Once it found his mouth, it left, and was replaced by a water skin. Roland drank greedily until it was taken away.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome," Gabe replied from the blackness. Though he was obviously closer than he'd been before, his voice was still no louder than a whisper.

"You're not tied up." Roland stated the obvious.

"I was, but I wiggled out. I tied my rope to my tree so I don't get lost and can get back to it before they come back."

"Lost?" Roland remembered the feeling of the tree bark behind him as Gabe mentioned 'his tree.' "I thought you said we were in a kind of closet..."

Momentarily distracted by that thought, he looked upward. There were no stars. Were they inside, or outside? The movement of the air seemed to indicate outside, but the utter darkness was more akin to a cave or underground chamber. He flexed his hands and felt dirt at the tips of his fingers.

"The Dark Place. They use it to store stuff, and people. It's outside but has doors." Roland closed his eyes to concentrate on Gabriel's words. It wasn't like he could see that far with them open, anyway.

"Outside... with doors." Roland couldn't piece the puzzling words together with his battered mind.

"Sorry, I'm bad at this. It's a weird place, and I haven't talked to anyone in forever. Rhone can come and leave, but we're trapped. It's outside but there's never a sun or moon."

"You're not trapped," Roland opened his eyes. "You got untied."

"They warned us that even if we can get loose, not to run away. They said there's no way back without them and if we get lost, no one can find us." Gabriel's voice quivered.

Roland saw the logic in the child's choice to remain. Many were afraid enough of the dark without any dire warnings from dangerous enemy soldiers to encourage them to fear it further.

"How do they get back?" Roland asked.

"Doors," Gabe was growing frustrated with Roland's inability to grasp what he was told.

"I don't understand," The man admitted at length.

"It's ok," Gabe sighed, "The Dark Place is creepy. No matter how much I screamed or yelled for help, it was quiet. Even when Rhone bring lanterns, it's still pretty dark. I don't know how they make the doors, but they just appear and disappear. I tried to open one after they left and it wasn't there anymore."

Roland was once again forced to admire Gabriel's awareness and fortitude. Had he been trapped in The Dark Place since the village was attacked weeks ago?

"How old are you, Gabe?" Roland asked.

"I'm six." The boy said proudly.

"You are the bravest six year old I know," Roland smiled in the dark. "Keep up the good work."

Gabriel sat down against the same tree Roland was against, his clothes brushing Roland's shoulder, making him wince again. Though it wasn't cold and was entirely dark, Roland was becoming uncomfortable with his state of undress. He wished that whoever had tied him up had had the decency to put most clothes on him first. He doubted Gabe had anything that would help with that, so he remained silent and tried to conserve his strength.

The pain was intense and fogged his mind. Maybe this was all some terrible fever dream, brought on by an infected wolf bite. It would be a relief to wake up from it.

Or maybe he was dead. Was this the world after death? He had no guarantee that Gabriel was alive, and if the child had preceded him... well, for the moment there was no direct evidence that he was alive other than the child's description of the Rhone coming and going, and his own pain continuing.

Roland's beliefs about the afterlife weren't very informed, and he had no idea what to expect to have happened if he was, indeed dead.

The disturbing thoughts plagued him and he decided that he would just assume he was alive for the time being. The logical outworkings of him being dead were too complicated and devastating to absorb right now. He shook his head in defiance.

It was better to go with the assumption that he was still alive and could do something about his situation than give up. Gabriel had been so brave for so long, and he could do the same.

A sound like the creaking of wood broke the oppressive silence. After nothing but whispering and quiet for an interminable amount of time, the sudden cacophony startled Roland out of his deep thoughts. The boy beside him shot to his feet and scrambled away, presumably back to his 'own tree'.

Suddenly, as if a door were opening, bright light shone directly onto Roland's battered face.