Abyssal Awakening

Sleep…

How wondrous. A moment of rest, a break from the world.

A time where you don't think, don't do anything.

You simply drift off into the darkness, unable to determine whether or not you'll wake up tomorrow.

A moment where you give up control of your life and drift off into the infinite void.

A period of vulnerability where you entrust your life to those around you.

But when you're stuck in this hellhole, in the depths where everyone around you was your enemy, could you really drift off into that peaceful nothingness?

Luke feared.

He feared what might happen if he didn't keep his eyes open.

The cold stares of the other children scanning the room.

None of them dared to sleep.

For sleeping in this situation meant death.

Luke felt as though he was in a pit of ravenous animals, waiting to tear him limb from limb.

He repeatedly bit his arm, forcing himself to stay awake. His eyes feeling heavier by the moment.

His focus drifting off only for it to snap back the moment he felt their stare.

He couldn't sleep.

He couldn't sleep.

He couldn't sleep.

"They're just trying to scare you. They can't kill you since it means one less sacrifice. If death must happen, it can only happen during the ritual." The girl nudged him from the side.

"H-How do you know?" Luke whispered back, scared.

He didn't know why this girl who seemed younger than he was so calm in this situation.

"Because I've stayed here for a while." She shrugged, yawning softly as her eyes closed.

"If they kill you, they risk dying themselves. So don't worry and sleep, you need as much energy as you can get tomorrow."

Luke tightened his fists around his pants.

"Why me… Why are you telling me this?" He wanted to know why she was helping him, especially if they might die tomorrow.

"Because you're sitting next to my spot. And the more you make a racket, the harder it is for me to rest." She furrowed her brows.

Luke became silent.

"Ria, we need to talk."

The boy opposite them came over. He shot Luke a glare before turning to Ria who groggily rubbed her eyes.

Her earlier coldness disappeared only to be replaced by a set of puppy eyes and a weak aura.

A weakling.

"A… talk? But…" She gave Luke a worried glance.

An actress waiting to captivate her audience.

The boy didn't care if Luke could hear.

"Tomorrow… You know what's going to happen tomorrow. If you help him you're just going to become the enemy of the others. I… I don't want that." He hesitated.

Even in the depths of this hell, they still formed communities to get by.

"Am… Am I going to die?" Ria bit her lip, tears forming on the edges of her eyes.

"No! I'll make sure of it." The boy leaned down, hugging Ria.

But the moment her expression was out of view… It changed.

Luke felt a chill.

Cold eyes like a predator. Her prey in her arms.

Right now, she could just bite down on his jugular and ravenously consume the bounty in front of her.

But she waited. She waited for him to lead her to their home.

And as he moved away, her expression returned back to 'normal'.

A fearful rabbit who could be killed by a light breeze.

Delicate, needing of protection.

The perfect specimen to invoke the feeling of guardianship.

"I-I don't want anyone to die…" Ria began to sob while the boy patted her back.

She hid her face in her arms but Luke saw her annoyance.

A face that screamed why won't this guy leave already.

Once he left, Ria sighed in relief and laid down.

"Get some sleep. And when tomorrow arrives, be prepared to run. Run because your life depends on it. A weakling like you… Will die if you don't run."

This time, there was something subtle in Ria's expression. The way she spoke.

Was she…

'Sad?'

Luke spent the night thinking about that last expression before falling asleep.

###

"ARGH!!!!"

"HELP!"

Luke ran as panic overwhelmed his mind. His chest heaving up and down in rapid bursts as he scrambled to run from the danger. Each breath scraping against his throat as the taste of iron lingered in his mouth.

Madness.

A ritual of madness and blood, a carnival of slaughter.

Shadows flickering from torchlight, weapons hurled across the sky.

Children screaming as blades dug into flesh.

Crunching of bones, tearing of flesh. Blood spraying into the air.

Luke screamed, tears stained with blood streaming down his face.

He held a dagger in his hand but he dare not use it.

He didn't want to approach the madness that surrounded him.

In the background, the chanting of robed cultists echoed out in unison.

He felt as though something was trying to dig its way into his mind, to change the way he thought.

Blood? Did he want blood?

Hungry? So very hungry…

Primal instincts streaming out over reason, the desire to survive dominating his morality.

Luke crashed into another boy and fell into the blood pool. He gagged from the blood pouring into his throat, the feeling of disgust dominating his mind.

He was pulled up by the throat so that the boy could get a better look at where he wanted to stab.

And just as Luke shielded his face, he watched as another child lunged onto the boy's back, stabbing repeatedly into his face and throat until the skull split open.

Everyone around him clawed at each other like hungry beasts.

Another girl shirked in fear, her voice piercing through the screams only to be silenced by a knife against the throat.

She fell forward, gurgling on her own blood while reaching out her hands for help.

Any help.

Only to contribute towards the pool that they were killing each other in.

Luke scrambled onto his feet, trying to run.

Then he spotted her, Ria.

She was cowering behind the boy that talked to her last night.

He fended off the dangers and right when people left them alone…

"ARGH!!!"

The boy screamed, a dagger stabbing through his lower spine.

He lost feeling in his legs and fell backwards.

A laugh of madness followed as Ria killed the boy.

No… it wasn't a clean kill.

A torture.

Slashes against the tendons, a prolonged death to feel the despair.

The perfect kind of death that the cultists wanted.

Luke noticed the one who stood in the middle of the cultists looking at her with great appreciation.

Her actions screamed for everyone to look at her.

Look at the sacrifice she had prepared.

But tears streamed down her cheeks.

In her smile, Luke saw sadness.

In her eyes, Luke saw grief.

In her actions, Luke saw hesitation.

But nevertheless, she still struck.

She killed the boy and scrambled away from the battle, hiding lurking, going after the next prey.

But between kills, Luke felt as though she was screaming a different message.

"Someone please stop me."

Just as Luke was about to run after her, another girl lunged at him.

Her dagger inches away from his face as he pushed her off, kicking, flailing in panic.

The dagger cut against his arm as he cried out in pain but she didn't stop.

No, she wanted his life.

He saw the girl's desperation, she too wanted to live.

And to live in this place, she needed to kill.

The same goes for him.

To live, he must kill the girl in front of him.

Clenching his fists, Luke threw out a punch and watched the girl stumble back.

Tripping over the corpse of another, she fell backwards, landing on a dagger that stabbed into her neck.

Her voice was muffled by her own blood, tearful eyes glaring at Luke as she gasped for air.

He stumbled back, averting his eeys from the final sufferings of a girl.

He ran. One step after another, he kept running.

That was how his first ritual ended.

Once a certain amount of kills had been obtained, they forcefully stopped the ritual. This was going to be a long ordeal that required hundreds of sacrifices.

Luke clutched his arm in pain, swerving left and right from exhaustion.

His foot was caught and he almost tripped.

Looking down at the culprit, he saw that it was tangled in the jacket of another boy. A victim of the ritual.

"Right… I needed a blanket…" He muttered.

Reaching down, he took it and walked away.

As they returned to their cell, Luke noticed that their numbers had roughly dropped by 80%. There were only a few who remained, some from the new batch who survived out of luck like he did. Some who killed their way through.

They sobbed to themselves, huddling in corners.

Luke sat down.

He didn't care that the jacket was soaked with blood.

"You found a blanket, congratulations." Ria spoke, sitting back down and faced the wall.

She laid down with exhaustion.

Even though she was covered in blood, she wasn't wounded.

He noticed some dried blood being wiped away from her mouth. Pieces of skin still clinging to the gaps.

He wanted to move away in fear but noticed her shoulders trembling.

Without thinking, he threw the jacket over her, surprising Ria as she turned to look at him.

There was no doubt he saw her killing those kids so why?

Her expression was one of surprise and confusion. Not the same kind of expression she put on when deciding her next target.

Luke hugged his knees and leaned against the wall.

"You were… crying."

Confusion.

That was the only thing on Ria's mind.

"So you gave me a blanket to remind me of what happened?"

"Ah… No that's not… give it back then." Luke panicked but Ria shook her head.

"You gave it so it's mine now."

Turning her body, she laid back down on the ground with the bloodied jacket over her body.

"So I was crying…" She mumbled.

As strange as it was… A small smile appeared on her face.

She was glad… Glad that she could still cry for the person she had become.