The darkness in the basement was suffocating. There were no windows, only the dim light of a torch at the entrance flickering in the distance, casting twisted shadows on the stone walls. The stench of sweat, fear and death permeated every corner, making it almost unbreathable. Kael lay huddled in a corner, his ribs scored under his skin, his lips parched and his stomach twisting in constant pain.
He didn't know how long it had been since his abduction. Days. Maybe weeks. Her world had shrunk to this hole where hunger reigned and despair transformed the children into shadows of what they once were. Some cried themselves to sleep. Others simply stopped moving and never woke up.
The sound of footsteps echoed in the hallway. Kael tensed, his heart pounding furiously in his chest. The door opened and the figure of a man was silhouetted against the light. Without a word, he tossed a small wooden bowl with remnants of something unrecognizable onto the floor. It wasn't enough for everyone. It never was.
Like desperate beasts, the children lunged at the bowl, clawing and biting at each other. Kael stood back, watching. He knew that if he tried to fight, he would end up with a bruised face and nothing in his stomach. He had learned that the hard way. Survival wasn't just strength, it was patience.
He waited. And when the fighting stopped, when the strongest had satiated their hunger and the others were retreating empty-handed, Kael reached over and grabbed what was left. A piece of cold, hard meat. He didn't ask what it was. He didn't care. He devoured it quickly, feeling his body tremble from the effort.
Every day was a struggle. Every day, one less between them. Kael watched closely. The strongest dominated, but they were also the most confident. They did not realize that he too was learning.
It was when he saw a boy, barely older than him, drown another to steal his share that he understood. There were no rules here. There was no justice. Only survivors and victims.
Kael decided he would not be a victim.