Young Writers Society

Hiba blinked, the fear that vibrated his core was long gone. How many months ago did he arrive? Twelve months or was it fourteen? It was no use resisting he learned that the first time the guards came in. He learned not to resist due to the magnetic restraints that prone him in the air. He learned not to resist due to threats against his brother.

Even after that, there was a downside, the pain had grown dull. His back no longer screamed when a sharp nylon cord scraped against his back, his sense of pain was a numb tingle that did not care to warn him when he neared his demise, he never did but it was a comfort, something to fall back on. Now he was left with a strong desire for emotion, a thudding headache, anything to numb the ruminations that replaced his agony.

The most terrifying thing the young fox had ever encountered was his own mind. For its cruelty surpassed the guards, the Sirens, or whatever hellspawn put him in here. For his ruminations would be with him until his death. They were untraceable and omnipresent at the same time and hunted him with the ferocity of wolves, and like wolves, they attacked him with similar ferocity. Each day they came closer to catching him, feeding on every ounce of emotion and wringing them out like tears, but so far, their quarry had remained elusive.

they assaulted his psyche, tearing down his retorts and maiming his sense of reason. Eventually, he would have no defense, and he would give in. Then the dreams came, piercing him through the soul, stealing away any hope of sanity. Even now as he tried to quiet his thoughts, the nightmares tortured him from the other side of his prison door. They invaded his every moment, tormented his every thought, tortured him with memory; he could feel it all now. The way the teeth sank into his neck and cut off his oxygen supply. He could smell blood, dirt, filth; his nostrils burned. He tasted metal on his tongue, hot cold burning wet; how was this possible? Was it real?

When he closed his eyes, everything swirled and changed shape, they ran together, too much movement for him. Was this pain acceptable, and manageable, and would it ever change? This dream was layered like an onion and laden with deep complexities and when the swirls stopped and the dark silhouette of his room dawned on him, he wished the nightmare would continue.

He looked down, he was in his bed on the IJN Amagi. He let out an exhausted sigh as he got ut and began to pace around his room, making sure that no one was awoken by his rambling. As soon as his fears were quelled he grabbed his head, it was throbbing and buzzing. He dropped down onto his mattress and exhaled deeply, letting out a pitiful whimper, the sound reverberating throughout his room.

The fox had managed to put himself back together before Nagasaki had to wake up, or at least enough to make it look like he had slept the entire night. He was exhausted, and he knew it was only a matter of time before his friend noticed something was wrong.

He had been having these episodes since he got on board the IJN Amagi, and each one seemed more terrifying than the last. He desperately wanted to tell Nagasaki about it but knew that doing so would only worsen their already strained relationship. He was dealing with his own problem, why exasperate them?

Still, he could not help but feel helpless in this situation. The only thing he could do right now was wait for the next episode and prepare himself for when it came. He went about the rest of the night as if nothing was wrong, when Amagi checked in on him he simply feigned sleep only to return to his pacing and ruminating.

He thought about leaving the IJN Amagi– surely the ocean was more merciful to his misgivings– but then again he would rather not be alone. But even being with people didn’t guarantee anything; after all, no one knew what might happen at any given moment and everyone dealt with their own problems in different ways.

He clenched his jaws shut and closed his eyes tightly as a tear rolled down his cheek. It did not seem like there was any end in sight to this torment that held him captive day in and day out until finally, mercifully, it passed again…This was the eighth time this had happened in the past week and he still hasn’t told Nagasaki– he believed it was selfish to do so. He was dealing with his own problem at the moment, why exasperate them? He sighed as he lye back down in his bed the hoplessness again drowning im.