[Silverin]

It was dark where ever he was, the kind of darkness that made him feel like it was closing in on him. He wanted to run but found him self unmoving, as if he was pinned down by something. Something he desperately wanted to get away from. He wished to cry out but not a sound came out of his mouth. Not a soul could hear his distress as he cried silently. No tears rolled down his pale face as he did so. The shadows surrounded him until he could just make out the sound of men talking. It was faint and he could not make out the words but he could hear them. He struggled to scream for help but again not a sound left his open mouth. No one could hear him in the depths of his own mind.

His eyes opened slowly, vision still hazy from the supposed sleep he had fallen into earlier. It was almost as dark as the back of his mind. As connections between his mind and eyes clicked, he began to feel the same crushing feeling he felt in his own mind sweep over him again like he had been hit by a wave. Unlike inside his own mind, he managed to find some relief as he caught the hazy golden glow from flickering candles that sat in the arms of a candelabrum in the far corner of the room. He was not sure if the haze he could see was from his own tiredness or because of the smoke raising from the incense that was being burned. His mind was still clouded and body numb but he had managed to regain consciousness.

Wh-where am I? What’s going on? How did I get here? A-and… what happened before this? All these questions rushed through his mind as he pushed him self up off the cold concrete floor. He could not remember anything of what happened at all. All he knew now was that he felt slightly ill and had a bitter taste in his mouth. He shivered as his skin began to regain its feeling bringing him to the realization that he had been stripped of all his clothing and given only a well worn shirt to cover his body which at this point looked more like rags. He pulled his knees to his chest defensively even though there did not seem to be anyone else around.

There was something tightly wrapped around his neck, cutting into his skin with its abrasive edges. He lifted one of his hands to feel it dragging the other hand with it as he traced his fingers down the rope to its origin. His hands had been tied with the same material but the line of the rope was not attached to anything and the bindings were just loose around so that it was more like hand cuffs than the way they frequently used in movies where both hands were close together. He could just run away right?

He turned to face the door, now realizing why his bindings were loose and had not been tided to anything. He had been locked in a cage just tall enough that he could sit up in and crawl on his hands and knees. The incense wafted up his nose as he took a deep breath. He could pick up the scent of juniper as well as a bit of lavender from the smoke in the air, one used to calm and the other to cleanse. Neither of the smells made him feel that good, in fact they made him feel more ill as he now grasped the full extent of the situation he was in. What he had not realized was that this was just the beginning of this nightmare.

[Silverin]

What was he going to do? How could he get out of here? He tried desperately to keep his mind off of what could happen next and focus on the task of escaping. His mind was still not cooperating with him making it harder for him to assess the situation better and his reaction time was sluggish. He had to pull it together, he had no other choice. It was do so or bend to the will of his unknown captor and let them do as they wished to him. What ever they were going to do, he wanted no part of it. He shook his head and began to think. Maybe this was just a sick joke played on him by some of the less fortunate souls… or not. This was a little extreme for a bit for jealousy from people he did not know. They were more likely to beat him on the spot or mug him than lock him in a cage in a dark room… with candles and incense. Or possibly he had been captured by someone who wanted to get rid of him, his father’s last remaining child and ere to the fortunes but even that seemed unlikely.

His… father… How long ago was it that he was taken way from his family’s mansion? Was it long enough for his father to notice? A soft whimper escape his lips as he thought about how he might never see his father again. He wished that his father would come find him, to take him home to a warm bed and wrap him in comforting arms that would hold him tightly, never letting him go. His father and uncle were all that was left of the family he held dear to him. All his siblings had died of illnesses and his mother died giving birth to him. By the death of his last sibling he was convinced that he was cursed and was the cause of their deaths. He had begun to cling to his father, thinking that he was the next to go but judging on the current situation he felt that he had been wrong.

He curled up and placed his head in his arms, shifting his head so he could just peak over top at the bars surrounding him to look for a lock. It was hard to pick out the padlock in the shadows at first but a glint of light running across its surface had caught his attention. He reached out for it with one of his hands so that he could examine it properly, giving a grumble of displeasure as he was reminded that his hands were tried together. His fingers ran across the cool metal of and body of the lock until he found the key hole. The hole was one made for a skeleton key. This lock was an antique… or designed after one. From what he learned those kinds of locks were easy to pick, he just needed something to pick it with. He felt relief, clinging to the thread of hope that he might be able to get out.

Running his hands a long the floor he looked for something to use to pick the lock with, until his ears picked up on a faint noise. Someone was walking down the hall towards the room, making a characteristic click with each step, typical of shoes that were dressy. He instinctively pulled back from the cage door, letting go of the lock and Backed him self up into the corner of the cage like a frightened dog in the shadow of its abusive master. With fear visible on his face, he kept his eye trained on the entrance. Waiting to see what was beyond the door. Part of him wished it was someone sent by his father but he knew that was not likely true. All he could think was how the situation could get worse, from who or what the foot steps belonged to and what possibly could they want with him as the sound grew louder before stopping just out side the wooden door.