Inside - Part 3 (Shorty Story)

9 days ago

Inside

The hours passed slowly. Occasionally, the noise of the complex would be interrupted by the sound of Dunga talking to himself. Sometimes, the Beskin would scratch himself. Jaradin could hear, in excruciating detail, as he dragged his nails across his fur-covered body.

"The sun is down. The sun is down." Dunga said enthusiastically. "It's down!" He exclaimed before shrinking against the wall.

Jaradin turned as he spoke. He glanced at Dunga, but the eyes of a psycho stared back; an unsettling glare that made him turn away as fast as his eyes could move.

Beyond the bars, a streak of light caught his attention. It was a sudden flash, barely visible. Just a green dot in the darkness of the complex. He concentrated on the space between the cells. The space he walked through to get here. Then he spotted it again. No sound. Just a small green light zipping up the main walkway.

The overhead lights were dim, but they grew dimmer still as the sun disappeared. He could still make out the basic shape of the place. The cells across the hall. The walkways above. The staircases that impeded his view of the left-hand side of the ground floor.

"What was that?" Jaradin asked.

He turned back to the others. The Beskin met his question with a shrug. It didn't seem like it was born of not knowing. Instead, it seemed to come from a place of no caring. A bored expression that communicated that he couldn't be bothered to answer.

Dunga sniggered; however, his answer was far more genuine. He, too, knew what it was, based solely on the way he gritted his teeth. He was waiting for something and was barely able to contain his excitement.

In the pit of Jaradin's stomach, he knew something was off. He knew to be on guard. He couldn't be certain whether it was something bad from without or within. He didn't want to take his eyes off Dunga, or the Beskin, for that matter. But, also didn't feel safe turning from the complex beyond the bars.

"What brought you here, Human?" The Beskin asked.

Jaradin's head was darting from the bars to the Beskin, and then to Dunga. The Beskin's voice was even. Was it asked to confuse him? To distract? Was it genuine? Was he trying to start a conversation? He couldn't be sure.

"Eh, I," he said. "I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." He stated, as he turned again beyond the bars.

"Vague," the Beskin said. His voice carried impatience.

The cell doors shook and opened. Not just theirs. But every cell in the prison.

Somewhere down the hall, there was a scream of excitement. Someone else shouted something, inaudible over the rest of the shouts. He heard a screech.

"Here we go!" Dunga screamed with excitement.

Jaradin was distracted by the noise beyond their cell, and he turned to Dunga. He collided with him. Jaradin raised his hands in time to catch him, but it was too late to block the weight of his body.

He hit the bars with his side. Pain shot through him. Hands gripped arms, but one broke loose. One hand turned into a fist. A fist came at him. One to the face. One to the body. Then another. In the scuffle, he lost hold of his arm. Jaradin raised his arms to block. He pushed back against the waif, and positioned his back against the bars. It gave him leverage. He expected another charge. Dunga stepped back and charged once more. Another onslaught of strikes. These were harder than the first. He blocked some. Others connected. The dark room made it hard to see them all.

"What are you in for?" The Beskin asked.

His voice was barely audible over the noise of Dunga. His screams.

Jaradin grabbed Dunga's face to push him back. It helped. Searing pain shot through him. Teeth on flesh. Jaradins free hand wrapped into a fist. He punched to make Dunga release his hand. Once. Twice. He wouldn't let go. The third punch made him bite harder. Jaradin screamed. Guttural. His hand was on fire. His throat burned, too. Teeth released, and a spray of liquid covered his face. Hands around his throat now.

Jaradins slid to the ground. He couldn't speak. Couldn't scream. He could only scramble to find something. Anything. His hands found the face of Dunga, and his thumbs found eyeballs. He pressed as hard as he could. Laughter? Dunga was chuckling. It was a sick laugh, and it made Jaradin press harder. The hands around his throat loosened for a moment, and gave him a chance to shove Dunga from him. From the ground, he noticed the green light. It was close, hovering outside the cell.

"What are you in for, tell me?" The Beskin asked again, this time, they were angry.

Jaradin lifted himself off the ground and hunched forward. Dunga was holding his eyes, lost, and staggering around the room.

"I got caught in a stolen speeder!" Jaradin shouted at the Beskin. He was out of breath, and his voice was strained.

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