"So, I am still being punished, correct?."
His voice was the first thing that stirred his consciousness. The dark is slowly being consumed by the light until familiar views greet his eyes. As if he was watching all through the lens of the other eyes, he couldn't move on his own, his lips spoke mindlessly, and his hands did some work but it wasn't his act. Slowly, his mind takes over his surroundings, piece by piece until he realizes he is once again in that house, sitting on the seat behind the dining table. Peeling the potatoes's skin, while the light bathed in from the entrance near his left. 
A soft hum was heard above his own conscience but it wasn't from him, not from Sarah in front of him. He looked around, but it was limited to what was in this person's sight. His eyes roll around, taking in the place he misses the most, also, needing something to understand the situation, it's still the same just like the warm home he misses so much. The morning warmth, the fresh coffee smell in the air, the smell of something sweet, probably the excessive syrup on his pancakes, and, the still lingering smell of apple pie and applesauce hit his taste buds really good.
"How's work in Michael's shed?."
The lady asked calmly. Her white strands tucked behind her ears, her curly hair safely tied behind her. She was cutting some vegetables, placing them on their respective plate. The calm in her figure calmed his erratic mind, the slight smile on her face soothing the pain in his heart. 
"Sarah..."
This person wants to complain but stops midway at the sound of the bathroom door creaking open. The line of view moved from the basin of potatoes to the steam blown from the bathroom, and soon outline of a figure roughly dried his hair with the towel, however, some splattered on the lady. 
"Oh, Dylan!."
She groaned as he shook the water off next to her from his hair. 
"Can't you behave in front of our son!."
She frustratedly groaned again which made the guy snort. He doesn't know why they are both still unaware of the humming. It was soft and calming, almost lulling him to sleep. And he recognized the scene, it was a week prior the memorial day, when it's already been three weeks being punished in Michael's shed. Not that he wanted to complain, the work was good and gave his body some shape again, he could feel the strength pulling every muscle after the whole day, every day forging the metal. One day they make blades, one day they make automotive parts, or turbine parts, or something. It's never been a good leisure day there. 
"Boy, you always got her attention. One can make a mistake She hates me more than she loves you."
He teased before Sarah gave him the infamous glare. He laughed heartily, booming at that.
"Shut up!. He's our boy!. Of course, I would love him more than you."
Sarah countered with a smile.
Suddenly the humming grew louder, and both of them stopped as if time halted for a moment. Sarah was smiling, her smile made her eyes invisible, Dylan was pulling a chair to sit, both of them unmoving. Not even a twitch. 
"My son."
The voice called. 
As if something snapped, both of them moved again. 
What was that?.
Both of them suddenly put everything down, looking toward the only young man in the house. The smile disappeared, only a trace of seriousness wiping their emotions in a second. A swoosh sound of air cutting the silence, the hot dry air caressing every exposed skin. 
"My brother."
He looked to the side to see a man smiling at him. His dazzling smile has a resemblance to Sarah's, he has a high beautiful nose like her too, but he has Dylan's caramel eyes once his smile fades and lets his eye peel open. He has dark hair, as dark as the night, his buff body leans on the seat, unaware of his own shirt struggle. His square jaw made himself more intoxicating, he was sure, the girls would run for the said man.
"Be careful. And we are always looking out for you."
There's a figure, a woman, at the end of the table, she was illuminated with white light, too bright, even her outline almost hot engulfed by the said light, there's also a small young kid on her side, hugging her waist as his eyes landed on her. He surely can't see her, but almost as if he can feel their smile for him.
As his head tries to recognize the other three except Sarah and Dylan, the uncomfortable on his right side waist starts from numb to unbearable pain as if a cramp from sitting for too long. He now was aware of his body, the pounding on his head, as the humming faded and so did the scene. The pain on all of his body starts to gain his mind and his comfort.
He groaned under his breath. Clenching his jaws so hard to distract his muddy mind. The white bright scene turned darker and darker, all five of them faded until it was nothing but him and the pain. Once a sharp hiss left his lips, his consciousness fully intact to him now, the previous events flooding his mind in a quick show. The unmoving bodies which are supposedly too rotten to the ground already are truly dead, once they were moving although they were dead, but it's not. The greenhouse, the old couple in there, the main house...
The main house!.
His eyes flew open, hitting the dizzy spot right away. The white spot cleared his blurred sight slowly. It was dark, dimly but still dark to his liking. He could feel the hard spot under his body and the uneven spot beneath him, an uncomfortably hard spot. The heat wasn't helping much as his body ached, his head started to feel pain, the parched on his lips and the dry throat making him want to scratch the deeper space in his throat. 
The first thing he saw as he opened his eyes was a blurry and wobbly sight along with his dizziness. The bile taste on his tongue didn't help as much as he was feeling like vomiting every second as he woke up. He jolted up, realizing he was on his stomach, laying uncomfortably on the hard cold couch. The ridges were the ones poking him making his whole body in pain. His shoulder felt stiff, his back felt like he just cracked the spine wrong, his neck felt cramped, his waist was nothing but bone cracking to the sides, every limb was left uncomfortable and he slowly knew that he hated the feeling. Yet he pushes his body faster than he can address every pain with bile in his throat threatening to spill out. 
His head snapped in every corner searching for the windows or anything like the toilet maybe. On the opposite of him, there was a long window, from the far corner to the other corner, he pushed every limb, running for the window as if his tail got caught on fire, he right way spilled all the ingredients to the ground below, now realizing he was on the second floor. The spill made a loud noise, he was afraid the captors heard it all as he emptied his stomach to the ground. His Stomach forced everything to get out even if it felt like he already emptied it all, he couldn't let out anything anymore, not that he remembered that he had eaten that much to throw out. The force made his eyes teary, as his dizziness got worse. 
With the last attempt, he knows he can't let out anything anymore, and the contracting on his stomach lessens, he turned and drop to his ass on the floor. Sucking the air as much as he can, feels like a fish out of the water. Now, he got his wits back, he checked his surroundings with a clear throat and empty stomach. 
He was in some hallway or some sort of thing, both walls behind him and the opposite was only half covered by the woods and rattan surface. He remembers waking up on a couch or something and now as he looks at it, it was a log being chopped a quarter of it, with ridges as if attempting to separate the seat into five, it reminds him of a seat in a hospital waiting lobby, he almost got the whole gist of it in a picture in his mind, but he only caught the blurred memory as if he was looking on the seat with the lack of clearing image, as hponderser again what was the hospital's waiting lobby was, it's came out as nothing, he almost remembering only to get it slips from his mind again. 
"This is always frustrating."
He mindlessly let that out. 
He looks around again, noticing the same seat at the far right and left of it. There's nothing else except a desk and a seat on his right, and that's it. A door on both sides, leading to who knows where. If he remembers correctly, the last place he got himself was the main house in the Laketown residence, and slowly all the view of the unmoving corpses fills his head with a clear inability to forget the rotten smell filling the air, and even now, he can faintly smell it. And the old couple in the greenhouse, tied and spasming, not a human anymore yet somehow it makes him feel not comfortable with these all. The world should not be like this, where humans are not even human, dead but still walking and aggressive, all the while living, the survivors running and scared for their lives. 
"Where's everybody?. Hm?."
He whispered to himself. At this point, he slowly realizes he feels like he could lose his sanity under the roof, alone. No sight of Blythe, not even Caine around. This hallway is big, what function does it serve? He wonders as he pushes himself up, feeling every inch of his body protesting against the act. Stiffly, he chose to try at least to see what lay beyond the door on his right. 
His hands unconsciously tapped his body for the guns as if it was the first thought he was having even before the thought registered in his head as if that was his muscle thought. He silently opened the door, he tried to be discreet as much as possible, the only sound he heard was the pounding in his chest along with the pain in it. He maybe got his chest hurt or something when he was unconscious. The silence follows for a second as he bends his knees slightly, ready to pounce on whoever comes to the door. 
With the door slightly ajar, he heard some whispers, but they grew louder for a second before a hiss, somewhat a warning, shutting them off. 
"He's still unconscious, lower your voice."
Whoever was it warned the others, successfully made the noise die down. The man has a rough voice, his whisper sounds firm. Is that the one who leads or what? He tried to find his stance here, did those guys he saw when he was almost knocked out on the good side or the bandits' side? He heard some passing news that bandits really are a trouble here, even close to the only way to safety they say. What if he initiates attacks and risks others' safety? What if those guys are good and he attacks on wrong people? what if they are truly dangerous more than he thinks? what should he do now? which way is safer?. What about Blythe and Caine, where are they?. Are they safe?. Why are they separating them?. 
Before he could think the door clicked in front of him, he took steps back slowly, following the door lead, he lowered his body, planning to launch, for now, all the option he had was to tackle down and ask questions if these people truly dangerous, he would go and find the other two, Blythe and Caine and if they're not dangerous, well, they should leave anyway, they need to find the others survivors, wait, what if, they are the survivors?.
The door stops moving in front of him, and so do his thoughts. He waited patiently behind the door, until he saw the foot come in first, crossing the door. Perhaps that person realized he was gone, he groaned a curse word. 
Thinking this might be an option, he pounced from behind the door, as he heard the man turn, making his way out in a a hurry, he knocked the guy out cold so hard that the guy made inhuman noise before plopping down for him to be caught. Refusing to make any more noises as already did, he dragged the guy inside quietly, placing him in the corner out of the door easiest sight, behind the door...
He took a seat on the log couch or a seat at least as recognized, in a second, lost in his thoughts, as his thoughts became more chaotic, his feet tapping nervously on the floor, his heart beating thunderously in his chest, and he sure swears that maybe it was the hot weather making him wiping his sweat off profusely. He stared at the man deeply as if he could uncover every answer he needed, analyzing the situation within the territory, and importantly asking the whereabouts of the two. 
"Gosh!."
He harshly let out under his breath. 
Jolting from his seat, he charged the man, searching for anything possible as a weapon. But, the guy was just as empty-handed as he could be. Knowing he still needed to get out, he rolled his shoulder in absolute resolve. 
He walked to the seat earlier, trying to push it as hard as he could, slowly the seat moved even an inch at times, he placed it next to the unknown man, aligned with the half-closed wall, as close as he could be. After making sure the seat touched the man's shoulder, he aimed for another one, and placed it on the other side, this time he worked faster, maybe because he already knew the weight and how much energy he needed to get it moving. Another one was placed In Front of the man, and another one against the first log. He knew this man possibly got up and just climbed it off, but at least he would struggle for it. He chuckled darkly with a satisfied grin followed after. His eyes satisfyingly admire the sloppy square of log couches around the unconscious man.
" Nice work!."
He whispered under his breath before he crept to the door the man came from. The hallway was long and dark, on both sides. Unlike the hallway with half walls earlier, this part particularly has no window beside the small empty part shaped squared at the top of the wall, covered with something like thin clothes or something. Apart from it was nothing, at least it spared some lights into both sides of the hallway. After some quick decision, he shut the door behind him. He took a few spins with his eyes closed. 
"Okay, that would be it."
He sighed. He just took whatever side of the hallway his feet led him to. Taking another couple of steps, he opened his eyes. The hallway just looks the same as the other side, and he refuses to look back unless necessary. 
His steps were quick but surely quiet, even the wooden floor didn't make a sound as he was sprinting across the dim hallway. Somehow, feeling suffocating with the darkness, he was uncomfortable but at the same time, his body hair stood at no end, and the bus heartbeat was twice as quick as before, his breath shortened too. He wanted to deny the fear slowly crawling into his every limb, but, because of it, he almost lost his footing and his hands were shaking badly. 
"Shit!. What the fuck is wrong with me?!."
He scolded under his breath. 
"I need light, air... something, this is too suffocating!."
He quickened his steps with his hands on the wall, balancing his body if he almost lost footing again. However, the more he walked, the darker it had been, earlier, the square shape on top of the walls was numerous, a rough calculation, perhaps a a one-meter gap from one square to the other.
But, the longer he sprinted, the less it became to be until there was none left and he was sprinting blindly in the dark. Deep within, he was chanting a curse word again and again, even faster than his feet could bring him at the moment. He can feel his legs weakened from the fear and threatening to fall again.
"I can't lose them because I am weak!."
He sucked the air with another resolution again. Pushing himself again, he met the corner of the hallway, it led to another hallway but this time, there was a light spreading in the middle of the hallway, perhaps a door. He clenched his jaws at the relief he felt, yet he still couldn't stop shaking like a leaf.
Suddenly, his head felt like being smashed to the wall, white soaring through his sight with the throbbing on his head, he groaned as he let his body drop to the ground. He can't even open his eyes, he can't even suck the air properly, every inch weakened as a flash of something comes into his head like a horror game with a personal point of view type. In his head, he can collect as much as he can from the sudden white splash, oddly. 
The scene he saw was somewhere in the dark. He can't make up anything, he was left there for months already, without a light at all. He felt his sanity starting to crumble, the voices in his head getting louder, mocking and laughing at him. The seat was cold, and so was the sharp pain as his flesh was digging with the leather straps on his wrist and his ankle. It was cold as if he was left in there, in a frozen refrigerator. He can feel all the wounds being uncomfortable as he was strangely slow to heal making him wonder how deep the wounds they left on him. 
He heard a door swooshing outside the room. Footsteps came closer making his heart beat in fear they would hurt him again. This time he prayed that they would take his life instead of suffering, he feared the seat, he feared the men, he feared the whips they used on him, and the fear now has taken over his head after months and months of being tortured. 
The door to the room opened, and the light smashed on him like a harsh whip as he looked down, felt the pain in his eyes after so long there wasn't a light. He was weak, too weak as he felt the swollen cheeks, the swollen eyes, the swollen on his lips, and his jaws throbbing. A dark menacing chuckle was heard from the man in front of him, startled, he accidentally lifted his head to see the man, they hated it when he looked at them. But, as he stared at the outline of a man, the trace of a smirk felt hit on his skin. He knew what kind of sick expression the man was putting in because another satisfied sigh was heard. 
"You bastard!. How dare you lift your head on our lord!."
A man who was in the room with him, which he never noticed until he opened his mouth came with a whip with sharps of metal thorn, and the end was a small blade, it was dirtied already from his blood. Now, the room was lit up by the light, he could see other torturing tools before the whip met with his back, tearing open the wounds that were healing. The loud sound was filled with the air, the sound of his skin having contact with the whip, and the scratch sounds it made as the whip trailed the floor before having contact with his flesh again. He screams at the top of his lungs despite refusing to. The pain spread quickly, as he felt his body was nothing but a weight being pulled by the straps above, and his head fell with the other part. When the whip came again his body spasm at the limit it reached, his head jerking to the sky, with his jaw clenching in pain while the one with the whip was smiling and felt the satisfaction. 
Another whip, another spasm, he was on the verge of fainting on the fiftieth whip. Blood splatters everywhere with pieces of his skin, warm blood trickling his already cold pale back, as the blood drained from him every second, his eyes filled with white dots, he almost lost it, gave up to the lure of emptiness, if it wasn't for the so-called lord slightly nudged his right cheek with his leather boots. 
"Enough, Gilbert. I don't want him to die, yet."
"Yes, my lord."
The man who carried himself in some regal manner, clutched in his black attire, holding his swell and bloody face, and let out a low chuckle, coming closer to him.
"You look nothing as you used to. The notorious assassin, son of Yevgeny with many talents, collecting girls wherever he went with this very face. They said you were good looking but I think this suits you more."
Huffing, the man who's in pain, spits on his face with anger as he sits. 
"Now, now, look at the dog trying to bite."
He smirked as he wiped it off with his short sleeve. His smirk still plastered on his face, as he swung his fist to the man's jaw, adding more to his injury. A loud crack was heard as he broke this man's jaw by then, he stopped and looked at the stained fist of his with a disgusted look. Gilbert or whoever servant he has, reached a towel for him which he gladly took and wiped it off.
" Just admit I am your lord and serve me, you don't have to endure this anymore. It's been six months since you disappeared and they don't even send someone to look for you when I, have given them a clear hint as to where to find you."
The man sighed and suddenly laughed as if he had turned into a madman.
"How sad your life can be, you've been dumped by your own people, they now, strive with the powers you used to have. You lose!. I win!."
He laughed again as he made his way out, as the light out, and the door close with a thud. The straps suddenly fill with electricity, as it spreads through his body until he faints from the blood loss and the spasm from the electricity.