Chapter 3: The present haunts too
Unfortunately for the two of them, that comforting silence was short-lived. The doors opened slowly. A slow, calculated move that screamed power and status. The cell temperature dropped to such degree that in comparison it made Antarctica seem like a sunny beach. The devil has come, and it looks like he was with someone. This simple action, the door opening, was enough for them to snap out of their thoughts, as the cruel reality sent a shiver down their spines. The hell wasn't over yet.
The walls were a depressing shade of gray. Gloomy and lifeless, just like the air surrounding them. There were no windows, but there was a small light, a fragile flicker that looked like it would shatter if you looked at it for too long. Although there was a light source there, the room was cloaked in deep dark shadows. Shadows that loomed over them like guards of their prison, cold and venomous.
The two kids might have escaped that infernal day, but they have ended up in hell ever since. However, in this kind of hell they weren't alone. A total of 15 unfortunate souls were sharing the same inferno. They braced themselves for the danger that had come to smile at them. The devil came to bring their doom. The light flickered as the room fell into a terrified silence.
A man entered the room. He was tall and had coal-black hair, which was swept back with an incredible amount of gel. Enough gel to last an entire country for 10 years straight. He wasn't exactly bulky, but you were a fool to assume this man was the normal kind. Although he didn't look like it, his frame was strong and his skills sharp. Truth be told, he was the personification of the devil himself. His features were sharp and clear. His aura was ice cold. There was a constant bloodlust surrounding him and an unmistakable arrogance and pride. His eyes were a dark green, like a mysterious forest, and as deep as the Pacific Ocean. That type of leafy green that told false stories of trust, with a smile so bright you'd never bat an eye.
Behind him a much younger man followed inside. The guy looked about 16 years old. He looked just like your average teenage guy. Freckles decorated his cheeks, which brought out his hazel eyes. Eyes that burned with an unreadable spark, but don't you dare be blind enough to let his appearance fool you. He was quite strong for someone his age. Too bad he didn't have the brains to back it up.
They looked so different in both appearance and demeanor, one carrying arrogance and experience, the other loyalty and submission, but one thing they had in common was the tattoo, the Blackstone Industries mark. It looked so simple yet so complex at the same time. Mesmerizing in its simple design. The shape of an eye surrounded by vigorous flames decorated their left wrist. The mark of the infamous Blackstone Industries.
The two of them entered the cell. Most kids hid and scattered in fear, but not Amelia. Her eyes followed the two, her expression turning grim and cautious. Pure, raw, and undeniable hate shimmering beneath the surface. This man brought only suffering and torture to their lives. The man before them, whose name was Jack, Jack Will, was the head manager of Blackstone Industries.
He mostly didn't show his face, but sometimes he'd honor the prisoners with his presence. Such a marvelous honor, indeed. Whenever this happened, it was never good news. More often than not he didn't have a reason to be down there. He just enjoyed watching others suffer. A devil in human form, his steps silent, his eyes icy. The unfortunate souls who crossed paths with him almost never lived to tell the tale.
The Blackstone's plan was the work of a mastermind. It was a cruel but simple and efficient pattern that never raised suspicions to the authorities. This company was selling orphans as slaves or for other wicked purposes. Blackstone targeted orphans because they had no one to worry about them, no one to file a missing person report or to care enough to search for them. For years, Blackstone Industries was able to avoid detection by the police.
They either bought the orphanages or forced them into bankruptcy, then took the orphans before selling them to their loyal customers. To the outside world, it looked like they bought the orphanages to give them financial support without too much paperwork. A noble act of charity. They looked like saints, angels blessing the less fortunate.
Some of the lucky kids managed to escape this nightmare before it even started. The only way to get away was to either get adopted or get sent to foster care while the orphanage was still running.
Somehow this wild, unpredictable life brought Liam and Amelia there. //How did we even get here?// Liam put his head in his hands, thinking about the time when their only worry was how to avoid bedtime. The bittersweet memory becoming more and more tainted by the pain that followed that day.
Liam and Amelia's experience wasn't smooth sailing. 17 May was the catalyst that brought them to this new kind of hell. So many things happened in just 3 short years. Things that happened too fast too early. The pain affected them in different ways, but it hit her the hardest.
She had something known as the chameleon condition. A rare condition that allows one to change their hair and eye color. She changed her appearance, a physical reminder of her efforts to erase that girl. Her brown hair turned obsidian, her amber eyes darkened, and the name Amelia became forgotten. She started going by her middle name, Ashley. It was easier that way, or at least that's the lie she told herself. The lie she repeated constantly to justify her action of destroying the girl she once was.
Jack entered, smug as ever, enjoying the depressing atmosphere in front of him. The guy with freckles followed as the loyal dog he was. He wasn't exactly the sharpest tool in the shed, but he was loyal beyond reason. In Blackstone's chess game, he was merely a pawn. There stood no doubt that they were using his unwavering blind loyalty to their own advantage, and when the time comes, they'll toss him in the trash.
He was just too blind to see the mess he was in, but even if he knew, would it be enough to betray them and to change his ways, or was it already too late and had loyalty consumed his logic? Only time would tell. After all, some things are just out of our control. All we can do in this unpredictable world is either adapt and move on or stay the same and drown. Destiny is something no one can escape. Maybe things were always meant to go this way, or maybe not. Maybe this was a blessing in disguise, or maybe not. Nobody truly knows which one.