As we traversed the labyrinthine corridors of this unknown, dismal facility, the two other captives drew near to me, their faces etched with fear and confusion. They appeared to be around the same age as me, yet their expressions were those of children, lost and scared.
"I am Chun Jiao," said the girl, her voice trembling with uncertainty. "And this is Xie Dongyi." She gestured towards the boy beside her, who offered a weak smile, clearly trying to be brave despite the situation we found ourselves in.
I deduced from their dialect and names that we had been snatched from disparate locales, possibly from different regions altogether. When the girl introduced herself and the boy, I hesitated for a moment, realizing that I had never been given a name. I had to think quickly.
"I was incarcerated in the adjacent cell," I changed the subject, hoping that would suffice.
"The adjacent cell?" the girl repeated incredulously. "Do you mean to say that there are others like this?"
"It appears so," I replied, noting the concern etched on her face.
As we continued to exchange questions and answers, I gleaned that, like me, neither of them knew how they had come to be here. Each had been on the brink of death when they were mysteriously rescued by someone named Xiao Fei.
"Where are you from?" I inquired, hoping to gain more insight into our captors.
The girl furrowed her brow in concentration, struggling to recall. "Have you heard of Emerald City?" she asked tentatively.
The question left me perplexed, and I realized that these shadowy abductors had the resources to ensnare children from across the world. From what I knew from stories told by merchants, Emerald City was a faraway place, almost mythical in nature, situated at a great distance from Baghdad, that it would take a life time from a person from Baghdad to even get a glimpse of the gates of Emerald City.
As we exchanged stories, Xie Dongyi extended his hand towards me, perhaps as a gesture of solidarity. I reached out to shake his hand, but I underestimated my own strength. As I squeezed his hand, I felt something crack, and the boy's face contorted with pain. He screamed out, his hand shattered from the force of my grip.
Chun Jiao looked at me in fascination, her eyes wide with a mixture of fear and curiosity. Strangely, she seemed indifferent to her friend's pain. It was as if she had seen suffering so often that it no longer affected her, or perhaps her survival instincts were kicking in, making her more focused on understanding the new, unexpected threat that my strength presented.
As Xie Dongyi cradled his broken hand, our two saviors seemed to show utter indifference towards his injury.
"What's the hold-up? Let's move!" Xiao Fei barked impatiently, prompting Chun Jiao and Xie Dongyi, who had wrapped his broken hand in his shirt, to hasten their pace. I lagged behind, my thoughts consumed by the enigma of our captivity and the potential motivations of our rescuers.
...
As we traversed the hallways, corpses adorned the rooms we passed, each clothed in garb foreign to my eyes. A disturbing thought crept into my mind, could these individuals have kidnapped children from neighboring kingdoms? The implications of such a heinous act were troubling, yet the possibility that Biyu and Xiao Fei were capable of dismantling such an organization was equally daunting. However, the mural warning from Alexander suggested another possibility, that perhaps they were in league with the very organization that entrapped us. The question remained, why the elaborate theatrics?
My mind was filled with innumerable questions
As we approached the colossal iron gates, Chun Jiao and Xie Dongyi were oblivious to their existence. Fear clutched Chun Jiao as she stammered, "By the heavens! Are there more places like this?"
"Silence!" Xiao Fei quickly hushed the girl.
"Really?," Biyu remarked to Xiao Fei, earning a withering glare in response, before the masked man spoke.
"Follow me."
Chun Jiao and Xie Dongyi, the latter still holding his broken hand close to his chest, trailed after the surly man, while I hung back a little.
The next section of the hall lacked any torches, yet Biyu and Xiao Fei moved with ease. Meanwhile, the duo scrambled to find the correct path.
I could have offered them my hand so that they might have walked faster, but I refrained. To surrender my hand was to reveal a weakness, and in the presence of two dangerous individuals such as Biyu and Xiao Fei, that was not an option.
With the level of paranoia that consumed me, I knew that survival depended on not allowing anything to easily penetrate my defenses.
"Hold my hand," Xie Dongyi offered his uninjured hand to Chun Jiao.
I thought she might hesitate for a moment considering the attitude she showed a few moments ago, but to my surprise she instantly seized his hand and followed behind me.
As they advanced into the next area, they beheld more survivors alongside adults akin to Xiao Fei and Biyu. These enigmatic adults convened to converse.
"Hmph, at the very least, I am not surrounded by mere mortals," a stunning red-headed woman called out to Biyu, who snorted and averted her gaze.
"It is not the opportune moment, Shen Xiu. Let us assemble and return to our cultivation," a white-haired man with slitted eyes declared, prompting nods from all present.
Upon hearing their words, I couldn't help but frown. Why did these individuals treat us all like mere pawns in some mysterious game? And what did they mean by "cultivation"? Were they planning to use us as fertilizer in some twisted, morbid garden? The thought crossed my mind, but I quickly scolded myself. This was not the time for dark humor or wild conjectures.
As with Chun Jiao and Xie Dongyi, the other victims likewise convened and exchanged information. They were initially startled by the unexpected arrival of me, Chun Jiao, and Xie Dongyi. Nonetheless, Chun Jiao stepped up and calmly clarified the situation, which quickly helped to ease any tensions.
.....
As I cautiously peered into the room, the overwhelming stench of decay assaulted my senses with an almost unbearable intensity. The air was thick and heavy, laden with the putrid odor of decomposing bodies. Unlike the section where I had been imprisoned, where starvation claimed most lives, the grisly signs of self-inflicted harm were alarmingly evident here. Shattered skulls, evidence of strangulation— the despair, isolation, and terror had driven these poor souls to take their own lives in a desperate bid to escape their torment.
This was a bleak and merciless environment for children to endure. The fact that they had managed to survive even this long was a testament to their remarkable resilience. Yet, as I glanced at their food bowl, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of resentment. It was larger than the one in my section, and the amount of food was more abundant. Were they being discriminated against? Was this part of some sinister experiment?
It was evident that whoever had imprisoned us here had deliberately engineered the different sections to receive varying levels of treatment. And as I compared what I had observed, it became apparent that the area where I was confined was the harshest. It was nothing short of a miracle that I had managed to survive there alone.
The soft murmur of voices and the faint echo of footsteps drifted through the dimly-lit corridor. But the children outside, absorbed in their own conversations and seemingly oblivious to the cruel reality of their existence, appeared not to notice this fact. As I emerged from the shadows, Chun Jiao, clad in tattered garments, sensed my presence and introduced me to the others—Lee Min and Wang Fu. It was as if they had formed a bond, a collective strength born out of their shared suffering.
I committed their names to memory.
Lee Min, whose ethereal beauty seemed to defy the grim surroundings, addressed me with a voice as delicate as the fluttering of a butterfly's wings. Her once colorful dress now stained and frayed, she appeared to be a fragile flower in the midst of this desolation.
"Hello, I'm Lee Min," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'll be in your care from now on."
I was uncertain of what to make of this peculiar gathering, but I nodded in silent agreement as Biyu, her weary eyes betraying a strength forged in adversity, led us deeper into the darkness. The haunting melody of distant, mournful cries accompanied our journey, a constant reminder of the suffering that surrounded us in this forsaken place.
...
As Biyu and the other adults guided us deeper into the darkness, our group grew as more survivors emerged from the shadows, enigmatic figures that materialized as if from thin air. They were a diverse group, but the loss they shared was palpable.
Despite the growing number of survivors, the harsh reality was that for every child who managed to escape the clutches of death, twice as many succumbed to their tragic fates. Within the confines of this haunting labyrinth, a total of three hundred young souls had been trapped, yet a mere one hundred had cheated death and lived to see another day.
As we continued our journey, I couldn't help but ponder the sinister motives that fueled this twisted game. The blood-stained messages scrawled on the walls gradually revealed a gruesome truth: these children were not orphans, snatched from the streets by chance. Instead, they were helpless victims, cruelly torn from the warm embrace of their families.
The chilling realization brought forth even more questions: why had this been done to us? What could possibly connect us all, a group of seemingly unrelated children? What made us special enough to be subjected to such unspeakable horrors? What could possibly justify the senseless suffering and heartache that we had been forced to endure?
As we navigated the seemingly endless darkness, the answers to these haunting questions continued to elude us, leaving only an unsettling mystery that clung to us like a cold, suffocating mist.