Galaxy Of Hope

The first thing I noticed was the cold. I woke with violent shivers racking up and down my spine and numbness in my hands and feet. Teeth chattering and eyes watering from some unidentified pain because literally everything hurt. I could not tell from which body part or body parts it came from.

The room was dark but there was this sole window way above me, barred and small, but it was a window, giving me some semblance of light. It was a full moon out, so the room was sparsely lit. I was in a cell. A big cell but it was only me in there. Even though the other side of the cell was covered in shadow because the light of the window couldn’t reach that far.

Through the ringing in my ears I could not hear anyone else in there but who knows. I was on a dirty old mattress, with holes in them. As I glanced down I could also make up some unidentifiable stains and I quickly cast my eyes towards the bars again. I was given a small bowl to relieve myself in, I assumed, but by the state of the pile of drying vomit next to it, I seemingly had missed my mark.

I could not even remember last night. What had happened and how did they take me? Who were they?

Behind the bars, it was also vast darkness. I felt it by the echo in the room and the intense deep cold, that I was in a gigantic chamber with high ceilings. I wrapped my arms around myself but one of my arms had slow movement. It might be broken by the intense pain that went through me. I yelped. It echoed through the room for a few seconds longer.

‘I-is anyone there?’ I asked feebly. The words also lingered in the room like a ghost.

I was so thirsty but there was nothing around me to drink. My lips chapped and dry. As I tried to stand my ankle burned hotly, it was also hurt. I apparently did put up a fight even though I couldn’t remember anything of it.

‘Don’t move.’ A deep voice drifted towards me from the other side of the cell. I gasped and tried to scurry to the farthest corner of my side of the prison. ‘You are badly hurt, don’t move please.’

Somebody shuffled closer, slowly. A guy stepped out of the shadows. About my age, dark and scruffy hair, long beard. He was thin and pale. Seemingly starving and he was bruised all over. He was wearing a black training gear combo which was dirty and had cuts all over. He looked like he had been in a fight with a werebear.

‘Who are you? Don’t come any closer!’ I said. My throat hurt too and my voice was an angry rasp.

‘I got some water.’ He said and shoved a small plastic cup my way. I was weary of it.

‘Please drink.’ He added. ‘It’s safe. I made sure to keep it safe until you woke up.’

‘I don’t know you.’ I said.

‘I know. You can trust me though.’ He crouched down in front of me, still a good two meters of space between us. ‘I’m Derek.’

By the way he was acting and making me feel something told me he was a good person. My radar had hardly been wrong.

‘What are you doing here Derek and where are we?’ I asked still ignoring the cup.

‘We are in the Razz Moros Red Cells.’

That didn’t sound good at all.

‘Red cells?’

‘Secret cells. Here is where they stash the terrorist who don’t deserve trials according to them.’

‘So are we terrorists?’ I asked more so for him than for me.

‘I’m not. I’m not so sure about you though.’ He joked. ‘You seem like a very bad person in those pink pajamas.’

‘Hey, don’t be fooled by my looks. I’m still deadly.’ I joked back.

‘Drink Lux.’

I reached for the cup and right before I drank I said. ‘How do you know my name?’

He sighed.

‘I heard it when they brought you in here. One of the guards said your name.’

Something didn’t feel right. I put the cup down again.

‘You don’t trust me?’

‘I don’t know you, Derek.’

‘What can I do to make you trust me?’

‘Drink from the cup first.’ I said.

He eyed me. Contemplating my question.

He reached for the cup and brought it to his lips and he drank a big gulp. ‘There. Safe. Your turn.’

He gave it back to me and I could see it in his brown eyes. He needed me to drink this.

‘If this is something bad. I’m haunting you from the grave with my pink pajamas, Derek. Mark my words.’ And I drank.