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I stopped moving and peered at the cold ceiling above.
My eyes slowly adjusted to the claustrophobic blackness, aching with the need to see.
And…bit by bit, glow by glow…I did.
Raising my arm, I touched the forever-wet rock and stroked the faint luminescence.
A rustle of legs. A wriggle of insects. The light glowed brighter, then vanished as the critter scrambled behind a crag.
More light blinked on around me—like bluish stars falling from the heavens.
For the first time in my miserable existence, I stood in awe as more and more dots began to glow, following the contours of the cave, lighting up the space with cool teal radiance.
It felt as if I’d stepped into another dimension.
Found a portal and fallen through.
Glow worms.
The name popped into my head, followed by a stabbing memory of sitting on the rug in my childhood lounge and watching David Attenborough. He’d bewitched me with his iconic voice, filling my young mind with facts about all sorts of animals. His documentaries were the highlight of my weekends, all while my mother stayed locked in her room.
I’d been lonely and lost and living without any kind of guidance.
I was raised by the TV and consoled by the radio.
Enough!
Shaking my head, I pressed my fingers to the lump on my temple from the blowhole sucker-punching me.
I had to have a concussion.
No way would such a pointless, ridiculous memory dare trespass otherwise.
No way would the pathetic little boy inside me dare, fucking dare, make himself known.
Hefting the axe, I tossed away the useless torch and followed the path of glow worms.
* * * * *
I heard them before I found them.
Laughter and grunts.
Glee and despair.
Stepping from the seam that’d grown so narrow I’d had to travel sideways, I blinked at the brightness of lanterns. The four Masters didn’t notice me as two of them fucked two jewels on the ground while the other two watched.
Their paintball guns were tossed in the corner, forgotten. My stolen one clung to my back, occasionally pressing against a bruise. My jeans and t-shirt hadn’t dried. My feet were blocks of ice. And I had no doubt I was now filthy as well as orange.
Five hours I’d been stuck in this hellhole.
Five hours was a long fucking time to stay sane when every bend and shadow whispered with nightmares.
A jewel screamed as a Master rutted into her like an animal.
The cries from these jewels weren’t like the ones with Stewart and Ben. They weren’t given with an edge of acceptance or trust that their Masters wouldn’t go too far.
These men weren’t here just because they had nowhere else to go.
