The Silence That Surrounds: Screams of the Damned

Harry’s POV:

Boots against dirty cement.

That’s all that sound in the hollow tunnels, all that you can focus on at least. Once you get inside, the cries of other prisoners intermix with the boots clanking on a metal catwalk; leading bodies and captives alike down to the main cells.

These cages are lead along the dome in a complete circle that is painted yellow. On the other side are racehorse stables, cage doors that lead you in and another to open into the ring once your number gets called to fight.

The left is always a place you rest – the right side of the dome is place you are sent to die and I don’t know how I can even begin to explain that to Louis or Zayn. I just know neither of us can die.

I heard the feet stop beside the van, our straightjackets being torn off first. The next to go was our gags but I stayed quiet. Begging and pleading would do no good an insulting them just got you bitch slapped.

“Fuck you mama’s boy!” Louis spat as they undid his gag. If they had been smart they would have waited and undid that last.

“Louis, stop!” I pleaded as a harsh slap sounded.

“Fuck you porcupine fucker!” Louis growled, ignoring me completely.

Another slap.

“You know, I can’t figure this out so help me here; which one of you is the horse’s ass and which one of you is the jackass? Or do you switch? Jackass looks like he’s overcompensating and the horse’s ass is undercompensating.” Louis glared, making me look at him. I wasn’t overly concerned as Louis can take a hit and once he gets started, he’s not going to stop anytime soon.

“He’s going to be at it awhile.” I warned them before hearing Louis’s muffled insults a moment later, followed by my own gag being slipped into my mouth.

Great.

Louis tried to throw a punch but his hands still weren’t working but his feet were. I only know this by the rabbit kick he put to the one guard’s chest.

I’ll give him credit, when he is pissed he gives a good show, unfortunately, we have bigger problems to worry about.

“There were three here, weren’t there?” Jackass asked, finally taking note that there were only two of us. Point for the genius in the black hoodie.

He ripped off my gag, figuring he’ll get more out of me than Louis. I’d say at this point – he’d be right.

“I was asleep, ask Louis.” I retorted.

Then again, who says I’m going to make their job any easier.

“Bloody hell!” Horse’s ass exclaimed, radioing in on his walkie-talkie.

“One escapee, male – dark skinned, skinny –might be heading up towards the exit. He answers to the name -” He paused, looking at the two of us, his black coal eyes hidden just in the holes of the balaclava. He double checked the paper he held in his hand.

“Achmed.” I respond sarcastically.

“Achmed,” Horse’s ass repeated before pausing to see if I was telling the truth. He gave it a moment and shrugged it off, continuing with his message. “Make sure he is brought unharmed to cell 398.”

Louis snorted but past the fear I could see some sort of amusement.

Wasn’t hard – I just took a page from his book but boy, I’m going to bet Zayn’s going to be confused as hell.

“Alright, let’s load them out.” Horse’s ass replied, grabbing my ankles and dragging me out of the van. My head hit on the side of the bumper on the way down. Jackass was a bit rougher with Louis as I heard a muffled insult and a hard drop.

He decided that he wasn’t going to drag me to the cell by my arms, not sure if I should have been thankful for that or not but my head was dragging, I could feel a burn mark slowly appearing on my skin from scrapping against the ground.

“Could you drag me by my arms or something? You’re giving me skin burn.” I requested tiredly but he only continued to ignore me.

Soon enough we came through a door, the temperature dropping at least ten degrees. They kept it cold at night to keep the fighters cool. I remember complaining about the hot temperature during the fights when Damien would take me.

Like expected, we were drug across the metal catwalk and painfully down the flights of metal stairs to reach the lower level. The catwalks reserved only for the premium betters – like my father. We were now fighters and I couldn’t help but wonder if my father would show up just to take in a bet before rescuing us.

The scenery moved, the high ends of the ceiling were passing inch by inch while the cold metal walkways speed bumped my vision at the same time my head hit against the metal holes each inch they dragged me. Louis was fairing a lot worse, calling them names – not that the gag really granted him clear speech.

Just like that we stopped, the creak of our cell door opening.

My feet were dropped and the boots walked toward my swimming head, picking me up from the ground completely and hoisting me over their shoulder like a ragdoll.

He walked a few steps before slamming me down onto a thin mattress that rested on metal frame, the movement causing a harsh sound to emit from the metal itself. The same thing was repeated with Louis.

“Do we chain them now or later?” Jackass asked, looking down at Louis before reaching and tearing off his gag.

“Fuck you!” Louis yelled, moving to rabbit kick again but Jackass stopped it before he could manage.

“They still need to change out of their former clothes and Styles seems to be having a reaction to the muscle relaxant. Bring me the antidote, sooner we give him that, sooner we can get them secured for the night.” Horse’s ass replied while Jackass walked away.

It was about that time I could hear distant yelling, it took me a few moments to realize it was Zayn, his voice growing louder the nearer he got.

“My name is Zayn Malik, not Achmed! Put me down you fucking piece of rubbish!” Zayn yelled, a nearby door slamming open.

“PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW!” Zayn demanded forcefully, the clanking of boots against metal sounding as they descended the stairs and walked in formation with one another down the lengthy catwalk.

“Shut up, Achmed.” One of the guards huffed, throwing Zayn against a nearby cell – at least that’s what it sounded like by the way his cry echoed throughout the quiet arena.

“Fuck you!” Zayn challenged, greeted by another forceful slam against the bars.

“Be quiet or we’ll give you something to cry about, mate. Now, be a good lad and get in there with your friends.” One of the other guards taunted, degrading him as he spoke.

Another push and Zayn found himself on the floor next to my bed, our eyes meeting.

“You alright?” I asked as he was ascended on by the guards and taken from my line of sight. A moment later, clicks of handcuffs sounded, chains rattling a second later.

“Do I look alright? I tried Harry, I tried to make it to the surface. Igor got me before I made it all the way. I got signal for a few seconds before they attacked me, with any hope Damien saw it.” Zayn rambled before Louis spoke up.

“Better a few second signal than none at all. Job well done, mate.” Louis praised, his eyes glaring defiantly up to the one Zayn nicknamed Igor.

Igor grumbled something under his breath before a slap against flesh could be heard.

“Pussy! You hit like a girl!” Louis challenged but was quickly silenced but Zayn.

“Shut up Louis! He hit me, not you, asshole! He hits like fucking bloody King Kong, don’t encourage him!” Zayn argued, making Louis roll his eyes.

“Whatever you say, Achmed.” Louis responded.

“QUIT CALLING ME ACHMED! It’s bad enough you got them doing it.” Zayn argued, pulling at his chains in frustration.

“Don’t blame me, blame curly hair and green eyes there, that’s the one you should take that up with.” Louis shot back, making me look at Horse’s ass.

“And you guys are supposed to be taken serious as a gang?” Horse’s ass questioned me.

I wanted to roll my eyes but refrained.

“You ever heard the expression ‘it all started with a girl?’” I questioned back, making horse’s ass smirk.

“I swing for the same team, mate. So not exactly but I get the reference and it seems she’s got you all into some predicament; must be one special little bird.” Horse’s ass chuckled, turning when Jackass arrived back.

“Got it, will take about five minutes but these three are our last arrivals in today.” Jackass announced, bending down next to me with a chuckle, showing me the needle.

“Unless you’re going to sodomize me with it mate, jab me and get it over with. After the week I’ve had, needles tend not to frighten me as much.” I replied dully, taking away some of his fun.

He merely shrugged, uncapped the syringe and injecting it quickly into my neck.

I flinched as he pulled it away, aware of the soft crying that came next door to my cell – it was definitely female.

“Sophia is very special and trust me when I say this, my father, Damien Crow – he will find us. When he finds us, not if but when, I pray you three don’t suffer too long.” I pick up on the conversation from before but only hear the men snort.

“Many attempts have been made at rescue and if your father tries to interfere, he will watch his son die…he will watch you all die. So don’t get your hopes up lad. We’ve handled people like Mr. Styles before.” Jackass smirked, his lips curled up in a sadistic Cheshire cat-like grin.

“That’s the thing, mate – you haven’t met my father but God be my witness, you’re going to.” I chuckled in good humor, feeling my muscles start to tighten back up. I moved my arm cautiously, feeling it protest but obey.

“We shall see, won’t we? Oh, before I forget; I took a look at the fight roster for tomorrow and it looks like you and Tomlinson are performing.” He let me know with a carefree, lighthearted tone.

I sat up slowly, groaning as I did so, glancing around the small room. The cell was barely able to hold three cots but somehow they managed. Zayn was to the far right, his hands chained together above him, held securely by the cot’s frame. A small toile sat not too far from my own. Louis’s cot was placed a little upward but I could still see him clearly when laying down. Next to us on either side I saw bars, rows of them, allowing me to see into one cell to another, people of all genders, shapes, sizes and ages held prisoner in them – the same position we were in.

“We were told that we wouldn’t be fighting for a few days, what happened to that?” I demanded but felt Jackass’s hand meeting my cheek, knocking me back against the bars.

“You will watch your tone with us, Styles or you will not have a voice to speak with at all,” Jackass warned but answered my question nonetheless. “Elliott Dawson called before your arrival and told us to put you and Tomlinson on the roster. As you know, we were all too happy to oblige.”

He seemed thrilled about the outcome and I simply looked at Louis, his return gaze was nothing more than a raised eyebrow.

Jackass was in good spirits as he threw me a light cotton shirt and a pair of black stretch pants, they smelled like scented lemon.

“You will get a new set of clothes the start of every week. My advice is, if you get blood on your clothes, you will just have to wear them until Monday, unless you wash them out in the toilet but I don’t suggest it as we do not clean those but once a month. One pair of clothes every seven days is all you will get, no exceptions. If you are prone to bed wetting, we have materials here to help preserve your clothing – if not, not our problem.” Jackass explained as I stripped off my old shirt and replaced it with the new one. It was two sizes bigger than what I normally wear.

I peeled my old sweatpants back and grimaced.

“Any chance you blokes want to help me up so I can finish getting dressed? I’m a little unsteady on my feet.”

None of them spoke but Horse’s ass did oblige my silent request by taking my arm and helping me to my feet.

“Thanks.” I replied gratefully, pulling the rubber shorts and protective underwear down before stepping out of them gingerly. I felt exposed and became unsteady again as I went to take the new pair of pants.

Jackass saw and rolled his eyes while Igor left, figuring his job was done.

Jackass took the pair of pants and helped me step into them, the material sliding up my bare legs and over my hips once more.

“What am I permitted to call you all?” I asked them, figuring if I called them by Louis’s nicknames I might get the literal piss beat out of me.

“I’m Jake.” Horse’s ass replied, helping me to sit back down on the bed while he bent down and picked up a shackle with a short chain attached to it. It was long enough to go to the toilet and to Louis’s bed but not Zayn’s. Louis appeared to be in the same predicament but he was not yet chained.

“I’m Jensen.” Jackass replied in a toneless fashion, throwing Louis some clothes while the cold metal of the shackle met my ankle, locking onto it with a single click.

“The lock is tamper proof. If you try to get it unlocked, it has a built in explosive. If that goes off, kiss your foot goodbye. So do yourselves a favor and don’t mess with it.” Jake warned while Jensen watched in amusement as Louis tried to sit up. I could tell the drug hadn’t worn completely from his system and that it would take a few more hours.

“I’m going to need help getting changed, jackass.” Louis muttered, his cheek reddening, looking specifically at me.

I got up unsteadily, making my way over and falling to my knees beside him.

“Just ignore them, it doesn’t matter – they don’t matter.” I whispered, my hand reaching for his shirt but he shook his head.

“No, I don’t want your help. I want to do it myself.” He protested, making me sigh.

While I was busy trying to talk Louis into letting me help, Zayn was unchained and given his clothes to put on. He did so without too much hassle, looking defeated as he complied with our captors.

“Lou? I’m sure you don’t want Jensen or Jake helping you. It’s better to let me help.” I tried to sound convincing but he just snorted, his eyes hardening.

“You wouldn’t have been so fucking weak to offer help a year ago, maybe jackass and horse’s ass are right, she’s the epitome of trouble…Sophia’s made us all weak.” Louis admitted, glancing down at himself before back up at me.

“Right now we have bigger problems like if we’re going to die down here than someone seeing your scrawny white arse. Lou, we fight to the death down here. Alright? Our roster tomorrow – we have to kill someone or we are going to be killed. I don’t know if dad bothered tracking us – I don’t know what’s going on so please…please, Lou? Let me help so we can all go to bed. We are going to need our tomorrow. They only feed the prisoners here once a day – we need to preserve as much energy as we can for fighting.” I explained, reaching my hands over and unbuttoning his shirt.

He let me take it off and redress him in the same oversized shirt I had on.

When I lifted down his pants, I turned my head away and got the new pair, helping him from the old pair, with the rest of the dressings and fitting the soft cotton back up to his hips, covering any of his essentials that had been on display. Evidently he was more bothered by it than I had been. Then again -seeing people in their birthday suites is something you get used to in this sort of business. So helping Louis was nothing, he unfortunately didn’t see it like that.

I backed away from him once he was redressed, watching Jake put his ankle shackle on and warn him again what would happen if he tampered with it.

Zayn had calmed down enough and was shackled up like the rest of us before they both bid a goodnight and left us, the sound of their boots fading down the catwalk.

For a moment it was quiet, save for the soft crying coming from the next cell and someone coughing loudly on the other side of the dome.

“What’s your name?” I asked the crier softly, turning to peer into the darkened cell next to me.

A small girl, no older than eighteen, sat huddled in her bed, knees pulled up to her chest.

It took a moment for her to realize I was talking to her but when she did, her arms grew taunt around herself and she hid her face into her knees, letting out another sob.

“I’m Harry and I’m with my friends – Louis and Ach -Zayn.” I bit my lip to hide a smile and looked at Zayn who was giving me a glare.

“We’re going to be talking about that later, mate.” Zayn promised, flipping onto his side and using his arm as a pillow.

“Sure Zayny, we’ll talk later.” I agreed in good humor. It was subtle but we needed it right now.

Louis was surprisingly quiet, his body facing away from me. “Night, Lou.” I greeted but he didn’t reply. Instead he simply grunted and remained still. I decided not to press and turned my attention back to the girl.

“Hey, what’s your name?” I asked again, hoping she’d talk to me but it was her bunkmate that answered.

“Her name is Sophie. We’re having a really hard day, could you give us some space, mate?” A young male voice asked politely and I was all too happy to nod.

“Sure, sorry for disturbing you.” I apologized, laying down on my cot and closing my eyes, hearing the male voice that had spoken to me move by the sound of his chains clinking, he seemed to make his way toward her cot, sitting beside her.

“No problem, we lost one of our mates today – like I said, it’s been a tiring time for us both.” He said, making me turn my head. His voice was oddly familiar but still masculine.

The moment I turned, I saw long hair and a rugged young face that had aged with years of mental anguish that can ever fully be understood.

I stared at him for a few moments, wide eyed.

“Forgive my evasiveness but do you by chance have a brother? Andros? Andros Deprave? He mentioned Elliott Dawson had sent his brother – “I started but he interrupted me.

“I used to have a brother named Andros but that was another time ago. We cannot live in the past here; it will destroy you…you won’t survive if you let yourself fall victim to the swell of memories. Andros no longer exists to me, he died when I got here. Everything I knew from that time is dead and I cannot bring myself to fall victim. You either survive here or you die. So no, to answer your question, I no longer have a family.” He was monotone as he explained his outlook, which was sad that he felt the need to lose hope…but was it all just wishful thinking? Would we get out of here or die within the confides of these walls?

“He asked me to pass on a message to Aiden Hunter Deprave. Tell him that if he is still alive in this place – if he ever gets out that he, Andros, will be waiting in the place he has for the past few years…at the Dawson house. He said you would know how to get back to him, said for me to tell you that not a day goes by where he doesn’t think about you. He’s still waiting, his hope hasn’t died and neither should yours,” I smiled, knowing he couldn’t see it. I couldn’t believe that out of every cell, I had been placed next to the very person I had been looking for.

“Goodnight, Aiden.” I greeted, closing my eyes, hearing the soft even breaths of my two other gang members.

“Goodnight, Styles.” Aiden repeated before turning his attention to Sophie, speaking soft words into her ear.

“Harry…my name’s Harry,” I corrected before finishing my goodbye’s by addressing the girl. “Goodnight Ms. Sophie. I hope tomorrow is better for you, lass.” I told her sincerely before relaxing my unsteady muscles. It never felt so good to be in control of my body again.

“Goodnight, Harry.” She spoke, her voice barely audible before another sob emitted from her chest, muffled by Aiden’s arms as he seemed to shush and calm her at the same time but my need for sleep was too much and I slipped uneasily from consciousness, worry plaguing my thoughts.

Notes