Twenty-three.
It was neither twenty-three years nor days, what it was were harrowing rotations, each one representing the number of times the guards changed shifts.
Mr. Edward, not knowing their names, had dubbed them Angry, for the aggressive guard who was prone to outbursts, Burly, the calm guard who possessed leadership traits, and Jumpy, the pushover whose weak temperament allowed for idle chatter amongst the prisoners.
During these twenty-three rotations, it had all been the same, with little deviations in events or at least nothing threatening his immediate health.
At the beginning of every rotation, he would be tossed rotten meat along with a mushroom.
The meat he would discard and said meat the feline would hunt.
He had gained no progress so far as to the eldritch origin of this interesting creature, partly to blame was his inability to get close to it.
It was abysmally faster than him, that he had discovered the hard way.
Additionally, it would not come near him if the meat was too close and it was perceptive enough to sense him hiding by the corner.
Fortunately, in his overall endeavor of finding the creature, he had made some progress, and it had to do with his mother.
Apart from his quest to capture the feline, Mr. Edward also expected visits from his mother who always appeared in the gap between Angry's and Burly's shift.
He felt odd calling a total stranger his mother, but he got used to it quickly as her preternaturally warm temperament, a rarity in this place, made him feel less forsaken.
Not to be mistaken, she was indeed his biological mother; there was nothing to prove otherwise. Furthermore, she was present not now, but in his mind or the forced memories implanted in his mind, yet she was far away, like a mirage, a stranger.
In his time here, Mr. Edward had tried to assess the memories implanted in his mind in hopes of learning the language. Unfortunately, he failed.
The reason was deceptively simple, the memories were not as vivid as it was initially fading with each passing moment, it was similar to the feeling one would get when one tried to recall the details of a particular fleeting reverie from their childhood, to grasp every word spoken and even the actions performed was a small challenge in itself.
Chief amongst his challenges was his incapacity to grasp the alien and maddening nature of what he had witnessed on his journey here.
The beast that had been killed by the green-eyed man did not surprise him much. The existence of a new world with a bizarrely divergent biosphere warranted the presence of such outlandish animals, as perceived by him
He knew not the factors nor the cosmic mechanisms that had shaped and guided this world to take such an evolutionary path, and he could not wait to find out what—such was the essence of science, and to him, became common sense.
What could not be grasped by him was infinitely more arcane. "What was that beam of flame that shot out of his hands," he thought; no plausible theory coalesced within his mind.
Such phenomena as he had unwillingly witnessed could only be associated with archaic and forbidden terms like magic or, more fitting a term for this place, witchcraft.
As Mr. Edward exercised his mind, he noticed the presence of a shadow hardly noticeable in the already dim room.
Though subtle, it was still there, and as such, Mr. Edward naturally turned to investigate a resonance rippling through his senses as his green eyes met a red pair.
Mr. Edward had experienced this feeling multiple times, and as such, he was used to it, though his jaded indifference did not deter his curiosity as to what caused such a frictional anomaly.
Looking back to the matter at hand Mr. Edward was disheartened by the fact that it was currently Angry's rotation heralding or at least partly explaining the following sequence of events.
The cell was unlocked, allowing entry, whilst Mr. Edward braced himself by blocking or attempting to protect his vitals.
"Bang!"
A very powerful kick pushed him against the hard wall followed by a very familiar but unintelligible sentences.
"⩤Ԑ𐑮Ԑ /Ϟ ጥȞԐ ٧⍥/ꓓ ϞȞጰ𐑮ꓓ?"
Mr. Edward had long since gotten used to this vituperative routine, doing everything he could to prevent it, unfortunately, one could never truly get accustomed to pain.
He groaned, face scrunched whilst never removing his arms from his head and stomach.
At the same time, he curled up slightly as though expecting a follow-up, and sure enough, Angry delivered a set of painful kicks to Mr. Edward's body, all of which were reluctantly received with pained groans.
The quondam paragraph that attested to the safety of his immediate health seemed to have been false as each strike delivered was bound to leave a bruise.
Soon, Angry seemed to have had his fill, forcefully hitting the cave wall so soundly that he broke a piece from it.
It would appear that he had held back greatly for fear of wounding Mr. Edward too badly.
"The fifth time," Mr. Edward thought as he laid back softly, bearing the bruises on his skin, blood trickling down his wounded lip.
During these twenty-three rotations, the guard, dubbed Angry, had attacked him five times, beating him to his satisfaction whilst repeating the same sentence.
Were his actions particular, or was he following orders? Mr. Edward often wondered but just concluded that he was acting personally; such low and violent tendencies fit perfectly into the profile that Mr. Edward had mentally created for him.
Time passed, and it was finally time for Angry to leave.
During this period, Mr. Edward had hardly rested lest he got ambushed in his sleep, even opting to stay awake whilst the guard took his scheduled nape.
He sighed in relief as he watched the walking time bomb leave, and like clockwork, after a few minutes, a beautiful green-eyed woman arrived from another angle of the cave.
She smiled at Mr. Edward, beckoning him to come closer which Mr. Edward obediently did.
In the soft glow of the dimly lit room, she felt like a beacon of warmth and light, a quiet reassurance that someone truly cared. In her presence, the world seemed a little less heavy, and for the first time in a long while, it felt good to be seen and valued.
As before, she came with a lump of edible meat, which unlike before, Mr. Edward did not eat immediately.
Instead, he sat quietly, enjoying as this woman gently caressed his face, her gaze wanting, body language hinting so clearly at her unwillingness to leave.
Suddenly, a familiar and unexpected voice caused both Mr. Edward and his mother to look toward its source. Eyes widened as they spotted the guard.
Mr. Edward knew that his mother did not have access to this prison and she certainly did not have the skills to sneak in repeatedly and on a schedule.
It was obvious she had made an arrangement with Burly, the muscular guard who, despite walking in on the duo multiple times, had done nothing.
Unfortunately, it was not Burly who had walked in but Angry the one with violent tendencies.
Mr. Edward immediately had a bad feeling, his heart beating erratically at what was to come.
"He had never returned before," he thought with mounting unease, keenly aware that, though he held no power to sway the outcome, his heart ached with the fervent desire to do so.
Angry moved quickly, reaching the green-eyed woman in the blink of an eye.
His actions were brutish, grasping her hair as though it was some kind of entangled leash, forcefully tugging her towards him.
"Aghh!"
The green-eyed woman tried to speak in the same unknown language Mr. Edward was unfamiliar with but was cut short by yet another yank, forcing her to groan in pain.
"Stop," Mr. Edward muttered, a growing feeling of hatred and disgust welling inside of him, and yet this was unlike him.
It was because of this anguished woman, her suffering pained him, not because she was the only one to show him humanity, no that was far from enough for Mr. Edward to risk himself, this feeling ran deeper, as though integrated into his bones from a soul that was not his.
"STOP!" Mr. Edward yelled again, his voice laced with rage and frustration, fragments of dreadful powerlessness gnawing at him, leaving him wanting.
Unfortunately, the guard ignored his pleas; in fact, there was nothing to listen to as to him, Mr. Edward's ramblings were only that of a madman or, more appropriately, a deranged boy.
And it was that moment when Mr. Edward's mother, the green-eyed woman, was dragged away that Burly walked into the room.
From his movements, he appeared to have been hiding, his form alert as he gazed deeply at the exit Angry had taken.
After a tense and suffocating amount of time, he shook his head and sighed regretfully, sitting at his post.
Into the dark and barely visible exit of the cave, Mr. Edward stared, the negative emotions welling inside of him showing no signs of dissipating.