"Why are you doing this? They are just children! We are innocent!"
A male voice, far off yet loud enough to pierce the ears, shouted.
His cry was swallowed by a cacophony of voices, a loud commotion that spelt one thing out. Doom.
People screamed, cried, wailed and even screeched. Blood spilled into the air as armoured men carved through the crowd with their swords. Young children scurried in fear and the women mourned as their houses were burnt down and their children taken from them.
Bodies were splattered around. The stench of dead corpses filled the air along with the choking dust rising from the ground.
Far off in the chaos was a boy not too younger than twelve, dragging a blue-eyed girl by the hand through the disoriented crowd. The girl shrieked, but before the boy could react, a soldier's blade sliced his shoulder.
"Ahh!"
He screamed, doubling over and almost falling. The girl cried as she was ripped away by the armoured brute.
He staggered to his feet and lunged, but the soldier vanished into the crowd with her.
Another soldier pushed him down as he scanned through the chaos, looking for the girl. His blade went up, its sharp edge pointing directly at his chest. Down it went...
"Ahhh!"
Ren jerked awake, clutching his shoulder and his chest. His breath came in gasps, sweat plastering his black hair down to his face. The horror still burned in his eyes.
'That felt real. Why do I keep seeing these?'
"Finally, you are awake."
Ren turned his head. He sighed, relief flickering across his face.
"Mace. You scared me."
He pushed himself off the rocky platform he'd been lying on, only to stumble. Mace caught him before he hit the ground. He helped him balance on his feet.
"You don't look good," Mace said, his eyes full of concern.
Ren gave a weak laugh. "Have I ever looked good?"
The clatter of metal echoed deeper in the cavern-like space they stood in. The sound of metal striking stone and shackles rattling filtered into their conversation.
"You mean red eyes, fever, and sweat are normal for you now?" Mace raised a brow.
Ren shrugged.
"You're sick, Ren."
Ren coughed and shoved him back. "No, I'm not."
Sickness was a word everyone had grown to be afraid of. It was like a death sentence. In this world, being sick meant turning Rancid. Turning Rancid meant death, in the most torturous way. Ren wasn't ready to accept such fate.
He grabbed an axe and stalked toward the carved path that led into the mines. The clinks and clangs grew louder. Men and boys their age hacked at the filthy brown walls of the dome-shaped cave, dragging out chunks of copper red ore.
Mace hurried after him. "If it's early, there might still be hope of a remedy."
"Stop," Ren said, not knowing how loud he was. The cave fell silent. Dozens of eyes turned their way.
"Ren—"
"I said, stop!"
Their colleagues turned their attention fully to them and then continued their work after seeing they were just two boys conversing.
Ren exhaled slowly. "I'm fine. Just a fever. We breathe this hot air everyday, it's probably an allergy or something like that."
Mace's frown said otherwise.
Ren joined the others, striking the wall with his axe. Mace set a steel bucket beside him.
"So, any plans yet?" he whispered.
Ren paused, glanced around, and then leaned in. "The shipment sector is the safest way out. Those crates are big enough to hide us. Only problem is getting in there."
"You think it'll work?"
Ren's eyes hardened. "It has to. It's been seven years down here, mining particle ores for these bastards. I'm not dying in this hole, Mace. My sister is still out there and I need to find her."
He grunted as he raised the axe in the air and swung again. A part of the rock split, but his arms shook. He swung again and almost dropped the axe. The tool clanged into the dirt. Ren fell to his knees, panting.
He stared at his palms. His skin was pitch black.
'No… no, no, no...'
"Let me crack, then you pick the particle ores out."
Mace offered his right palm to him, while picking up the axe, but gasped when he saw Ren's black palms.
"What's going on there?"
A voice boomed through the cavern, and heavy stomps followed.
Before they could turn, Ren felt a sharp pain on his back. He grunted, trying to get up, but trembled again.
"Stand upright, you worthless thing."
Two soldiers appeared, and with them a boy as tall as they were. He was Torrent Darth, the son of the taskmaster.
Mace tried to help, but Ren forced himself up, refusing to turn to the company behind him.
Torrent's eyes narrowed down at the steel bucket. "Your carrier is empty."
A whip lashed before Ren could speak. Mace cried out, crumpling, blood seeping from his cheek.
"We don't keep you here to gossip," Torrent snarled.
"Like you even pay us," Ren muttered.
"What was that?"
Torrent raised his whip again.
'This jerk!'
Ren lunged first with a low growl. His fist cracked against Torrent's jaw. The whole cavern froze, workers gasping as Torrent stumbled back.
The soldiers seized Ren, locking his arms behind him.
"You'll beg for your life, scum—" Torrent paused, his whip halfway down to Ren's face. His gaze slid to Ren's fists. His lips curled and a cruel, loud laughter escaped his mouth, echoing through the cave.
"Why bother killing you? You're already rotting."
Ren looked down. His hands, up to the wrist, were black, coated like tar; like thick itchy gloves he could never remove.
"You're rancid," Torrent spat. "I only see you dying, like the rest. Scums like you can only be that lucky. Turning Binged is far too good for you."
The cave was in utter silence. Every worker's eyes burned into Ren.
Torrent sneered. "Take him to quarantine," he smirked. "Wait, no. Take him to the cells so I can watch him rot to death."
Mace gasped. He watched as his friend was paraded across the cave. Ren didn't say a word. Not like anything he'd say would make any difference. He was just a slave that was really meant to die. He got a death sentence already by turning rancid.
Torrent's gaze slid to Mace who was about to pick up the axe. His smile widened.
"Take the golden-haired brat too. He might be useful."
Mace's blue eyes widened in terror as soldiers dragged him away in the opposite direction.
Ren strained against the men holding him, panic spiking within him.
'What? Why him? Where are they taking him?'
"Mace!"
He grunted, wriggled and did whatever he could to slip out of the grip of the soldiers, but his body was too weak to respond the way he wanted.
"Till the light fades, Ren!" Mace screamed as he disappeared round the corner with the guards.
"Get back to work!" Torrent spat at the others before leaving.
The usual noise came alive again, the men and young boys chipping away hopelessly at the walls of the cave with their axes and some others carrying the chipped reddish brown metallic rock that they pulled out of the holes.
The soldiers dragged Ren into the darkness outside the cavern. He turned one last time. Not that he had much to look back to... except Mace, of course. But Mace was gone.
'Was Mace Rancid too?'