I woke up to the sound of Elias stirring in his cot. The faint light of dawn filtered through the cracks in the shack, casting long shadows across the floor. My mind was still heavy with the conversation I'd had with Tobias the day before. His words echoed in my head, sharp and unrelenting.
"I think Father Gideon definitely bangs kids."
I clenched my fists, my nails digging into my palms. Tobias was an idiot, a loudmouth who didn't know when to shut up. But deep down, a part of me couldn't shake the unease his words had stirred. Something was off about Father Gideon. The way he looked at Elias, the way he spoke to him—it wasn't right. And now Elias was spending more and more time with him, hanging on his every word like he was some kind of prophet.
I sat up, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. Elias was already awake, sitting on the edge of his cot and pulling on his boots. He looked better—stronger—but there was still that distance in his eyes, that quiet acceptance of this place that made my stomach churn.
"Morning," I said, my voice rough from sleep.
Elias glanced up and gave me a small smile. "Morning. You sleep okay?"
"Yeah," I lied. "You?"
He nodded, standing and stretching his arms above his head. "Yeah. Father Gideon said he'd teach me more today. He says I'm a fast learner."
I forced a smile, though it felt more like a grimace. "That's great."
Elias didn't seem to notice the tension in my voice. He grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"Yeah," I said, watching him go. The door closed behind him, and I was left alone in the silence of the shack.
I sat there for a moment, my mind racing. I needed to figure out what to do. Tobias's words had planted a seed of doubt in my mind, and it was growing with every passing day. I couldn't let Elias fall completely under Father Gideon's spell. But I also couldn't just drag him out of here without a plan. Not with the watchers always watching, always alert.
I stood and grabbed my jacket, slipping it on as I stepped outside. The camp was already coming to life, the air filled with the sounds of people moving about, preparing for the day. I made my way to the fire pit, where a group of men were chopping firewood. It was hard, grueling work, but it gave me something to focus on, something to keep my mind off the growing unease in my chest.
I grabbed an axe and joined the others, swinging it down with a force that sent splinters flying. The repetitive motion was almost soothing, the physical exertion a welcome distraction from my thoughts. But it didn't last long.
After about ten minutes, I felt a presence beside me. I glanced over and saw Soren, the lanky boy with the sharp eyes and calculating gaze. He was holding an axe of his own, though he didn't seem to be in any hurry to start chopping.
"Morning," he said, his voice low and casual.
"Morning," I replied, swinging my axe down again. The blade bit into the wood with a satisfying thunk.
Soren leaned against a nearby tree, watching me with that same calculating look he always had. "You're up early."
"Couldn't sleep," I said, not looking at him.
He nodded, his eyes scanning the camp. "Yeah. This place has a way of keeping you on edge, doesn't it?"
I didn't respond. I didn't trust Soren. He was always observing, always listening, like he was waiting for someone to slip up. But he was also one of the few people in the camp who seemed to have a mind of his own. Maybe he knew something I didn't.
"You've been here a while, right?" I asked, trying to keep my tone casual.
Soren shrugged. "Longer than most. Why?"
I hesitated, glancing around to make sure no one was listening. "I don't know. Just… curious, I guess. What's it like here? Really like?"
Soren's eyes narrowed slightly, and he pushed off the tree, stepping closer. "What do you mean?"
I lowered my voice. "I mean, it's not just a camp, is it? There's something else going on here. Something… off."
Soren didn't respond right away. He just stood there, his gaze fixed on me, like he was trying to figure out how much he could trust me. Finally, he sighed and leaned in closer, his voice barely above a whisper.
"You're not wrong," he said. "This place… it's not what it seems. People come here thinking they've found salvation, but they don't realize the cost."
My chest tightened. "What do you mean?"
Soren glanced around again, his expression tense. "I mean, people disappear, Rowan. Not often, but it happens. One day they're here, and the next… they're gone. No one talks about it. No one even seems to notice."
A chill ran down my spine. "Disappear? Where do they go?"
Soren shook his head. "I don't know. But it's always the ones who ask too many questions, the ones who don't… fit in. So my advice? Keep your head down. Don't draw attention to yourself."
I stared at him, my mind racing. 'Disappearances? That's the same thing Garret told me yesterday, Was that what would happen to me if I tried to leave?'
Before I could ask more, Soren straightened and stepped back, his expression shifting back to its usual calm. "Anyway, I should get to work. See you around, Rowan."
He walked away, leaving me standing there with a sinking feeling in my chest. I didn't know what to think. Soren's words had only deepened the unease I'd been feeling since we arrived.
This place wasn't just strange—it was dangerous. And if I didn't figure out a way to get Elias out of here soon, we might both end up disappearing too.
---
I spent the rest of the morning chopping firewood, my mind racing as I worked. Soren's warning echoed in my head, mixing with Tobias's crude but unsettling comments about Father Gideon.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized how little I knew about this place—and how little I trusted the people running it.
By the time I finished, my arms were sore and my hands were blistered, but I didn't care. I needed to see Elias. I needed to make sure he was okay.
I made my way to the center of the camp, where food was being handed out. The line was long, filled with people who looked as hollow and empty as the rest of the Risen. I grabbed my portion—a small bowl of thin stew and a piece of stale bread—and scanned the crowd for Elias.
It didn't take long to spot him. He was sitting on a wooden bench, talking animatedly to a group of kids around his age. He looked happy, his face lit up with a smile I hadn't seen in a long time. But as I got closer, something caught my eye.
Around his neck was a new amulet, a small, intricately carved piece of metal that glinted in the sunlight. It looked expensive, far too expensive for someone like Elias to have gotten on his own.
I walked over, my heart pounding. "Elias," I said, my voice tight.
He looked up, his smile fading slightly when he saw my expression. "Oh, hey, Rowan. What's up?"
I pointed to the amulet. "Where did you get that?"
Elias glanced down, his fingers brushing against the metal. "Oh, this? Father Gideon gave it to me. He said it's a symbol of my progress. Isn't it cool?"
My stomach churned. "He just… gave it to you?"
Elias nodded, his smile returning. "Yeah. He said I've been doing really well, and he wanted to reward me. Isn't that nice?"
I didn't respond. I couldn't. Because deep down, I knew this wasn't just a reward. It was a trap, a way to pull Elias further into Father Gideon's orbit. And I didn't know how to stop it.
I sat down beside him, my hands clenched into fists. "Elias, you need to be careful. People don't just give things like that away for free. He wants something from you."
Elias frowned, his expression hardening. "Why do you always do this, Rowan? Why can't you just be happy for me? Father Gideon's been nothing but kind to me, to us."
I wanted to argue, to shake him until he saw the truth. But I couldn't. Not here. Not now.
Instead, I just sat there, my unease growing with every passing second. Because I knew one thing for certain: we were running out of time. And if I didn't figure out a way to get us out of here soon, we might both end up disappearing too.