Chapter 24

Harrelson Territory

Three Years Ago

Drip. Drip. Drip

Ethan was roused from unconsciousness by a cold tap and trickle on his face. When he opened his eyes and became awake enough for functioning thought, he understood that water droplets were failing from the ceiling onto his cheek.

He turned his head to get a comprehension of his surroundings, and he saw that he was lying on a hard concrete floor in a cell caged off by Batrock metal bars. The cell was dark and there was little sound outside of it, so he guessed that it was pretty late at night.

He rolled on his knees and tried to stand up, only to be yanked by his collar back down to the ground. He put his hand to said collar and felt that there was a chain linked to the back wall of the cell. A rather short one at that. It only allowed him the ability to sit or lie down next to the wall, so standing or moving around was definitely not an option.

Realising that, despite his strength, he couldn’t move at all, he gave up for the time being and decided to fall back asleep, pushing his problems onto his tomorrow self.

***

The Next Day

Early in the morning, he found himself being forcefully awakened by the same man whom he fought yesterday.

“Rise and shine, boy!” the head leash said, dumping a bucket of cold water on him. Unsurprisingly, Ethan jolted awake in a flurry and tried to leap to his feet, only to be yanked back down by the same chain as last night.

Holding his neck and coughing, he glared at the head leash with intense animosity. To that, the head leash smirked as he enjoyed the feeling of superiority.

“What? You gonna do something about it?” he asked in a taunting manner before suddenly kicking Ethan across the cheek, drawing blood in his mouth.

“You can’t do shit to me, slave. You have no rights and you have no options. My name is Darrell, and as of yesterday, I am your law and I’ll be damned if I let you defy me.”

He then turned to the men behind him, handing one of them the remote to activate the shock mechanism in Ethan’s collar. “Don’t take no chances with this one. In a one on one fight, even I can’t beat him. He’ll kill you before you can even scream ‘mommy.’”

“Yes sir.”

***

After being cautiously escorted out of his cell and eventually outside, he found out that he and the other slaves had slept inside the wall. That’s right, the very same wall which surrounded the city also served as the barracks for the slaves at night.

The wall was four meters thick and was just tall enough for three floors. Taking into consideration its length and the fact that not every slave got their own personal cell, it was a very efficient method for sheltering a significant number while keeping them separated from the general public.

Ethan was then forced to march a few miles outside the city to the Batrock metal mine. While doing so, unlike the rest who were marched single file, he jogged separately and was surrounded on all four sides by Darrell’s subordinates. They watched him with scrutinizing, scornful and cautious eyes, which showed how weary they were about him lashing out and attacking them.

They were absolutely right to be concerned as Ethan was, be it in the past or the present, a fearless madman who cares little for his own safety or health. Although his philosophy was to not sacrifice yourself for others, he had no problem enduring copious amounts of pain for his own goals.

His goal right then was to figure out a plan of escape while making the leashers’ lives as terrible and frightening as possible. His iron will power wouldn’t allow him to become subservient.

Arriving at the Batrock mine, the line of slaves were unchained from each other, leaving only the shock collar around their necks. They then stood ready, still in a line, to enter the mine shaft elevator. Ethan also joined the line in the very back, still surrounded on all sides.

Before the first group boarded the elevator, various kinds of tools were passed out to the slaves, and depending on which tool they received, it essentially assigned them their roles for the day without the use of words.

Going down the line, a tool, which was pulled from a large wagon, was forcefully handed to them individually by a group of three leashers. Going down the line, Ethan observed that each of the slaves seemed to be familiar with the tool they were handed and assumed that each one had a specific tool assigned to them in order to maximize productivity.

If that was the case, he expected that the two in front of him would feel less comfortable, since they were bought in the same batch as him and, as a consequence, would be brand new to the job they were assigned.

The two were handed a pick axe and a drill of some kind. Not unexpectedly, they two stared at their new tools wondering if they would be alright. As if to read their minds, Ethan thought that every slave there had probably fucked up once or twice when starting out and had been whipped for it, so he wouldn’t be surprised if those two came to the barracks with a laceration or two on their backs.

Ethan was then handed a pick axe as well … yeah right. Every leasher knew quite well how dangerous it would be to give him something like that. Not to mention, making him do grunt work would be a complete waste of his Awakened strength. They had other plans for him.

Still, the wagon which carried the tools was pushed within arms reach distance of Ethan while they were handing out the drill to the slave in front of him, and though there was a Leasher standing between him and the wagon, it was still a fatal mistake. Those other plans were about to go out the window.

He, without hesitation, rammed his shoulder into the middle of the Leasher’s back, launching him forward with a great deal of momentum and sending him tumbling over the wagon. Then, in swift fashion, Ethan reached into the wagon and pulled out a shovel, which he then swung around and smashed the sharp end of the tool through another Leasher’s head.

With the strength of a 4th tier Awakened behind the swing, the shovel’s blade cut down into the man’s forehead like butter and proceeded to slice his face clean off. He died as quick as anyone possible could.

The other Leasher’s, seeing this happen without any time to react, gathered their wits and jumped out of the shovel’s reach before Ethan could target them. The one frantically tried to pull out the remote to Ethan’s collar.

Within the split second it took for the possessor of the remote to do so, Ethan readjusted the shovel in his hand in order to hold it like a javelin. He aimed and, with deadly precision, threw the shovel which pierced through and killed a second Leasher.

With two dead and Ethan looking for his next target with rabid eyes, which scared the living daylights out of the other slaves, only then did the one leasher finally press the button to activate the shock collar.

Electricity once again pierced his body, causing his muscles to grow stiff before he passed out on the ground. Unlike the head leasher, who only pressed the shock button for as long as necessary, this leasher continually held down on the button for as long as possible. Electricity ran through Ethan’s body for over a minute straight before the collar auto-stopped the process to avoid ruining it’s structural integrity. It was only after the collar shut itself off that the leasher removed his finger from the button.

***

Afterwards, the other slaves went about their day in regular fashion, only this time, they were far more talkative than usual. The guards didn’t regulate conversation between slaves, as it would be a fool's errand, so the hot topic among them was the crazy young man who killed two leashers in an instant. Although they thought he was scary, the sight of two leasher’s being mercilessly killed in front of them was cathartic.

Of course, his infamy also spread amongst the other leashers as well. They described him as a mindless, uncontrollable monster, which painted him more as a mythical beast rather than an Awakened human.

This all happened in under a few hours and within the time it took for Ethan to wake up. As for when he did, he found himself locked back in his cell. Upon opening his eyes and understanding his situation, his internal clock told him it had been around 4-5 hours since he fell unconscious, which would put the time at 10-11 AM.

He then sat in silence for hours, slowly watching the shadows move across the floor as sunlight shined through a window at the end of the hall. During that time, he trained.

Now, understand that, since he had not received any tutelage from his teacher Genku as of this point in his life, he did not know how to do sensory training nor how to strengthen his Geinta through Hinsation. Instead, all he knew at this point was a relatively developed understanding of martial arts and a basic understanding of Geinta.

What he knew was that Geinta is like a muscle in that if you work and strain it, over time, it will grow and become stronger. Therefore, using his somewhat decent control over his energy, he pushed as much power as he could into his muscles and held his Geinta like that for hours.

While it wasn’t the most effective way of strengthening Geinta, after doing it for years, it had proved quite fruitful.

(Hinsation would be like doing multiple pull ups while this self taught method would be like holding your chin above the bar.)

Eventually, after hours of him doing this, around 8:30, the head leasher walked down the hallway to his cell.

When he arrived, he and Ethan just stared, without a word, at each other with anger and hatred in their eyes. Only after a minute or so did the head leasher say anything.

“I’m insulted, slave,” he said with a clearly faked sad look in his eye.

“The name’s Ethan. Not ‘slave.’ Got that, Dave.” Ethan said back, emphasizing the name at the end.

The head leasher flinches and a moment later, his face twitched as he couldn’t hide the rage that was brewing inside his body. “That’s really cute, slave, but I told you not to forget the name Darrell. Do you remember why?”

Ethan smirked before answering. “Because you're a narcissistic sadist with a grandiose sense of self worth. You can’t stand it when your victims forget any little detail about you.”

“Grandiose sense of self worth?” Darrel asked. “There’s nothing grandiose about it when it’s the truth. No, I shouldn’t have expected a slave like you to understand.”

Then, a large, sadistic smile appeared on Darrel’s face, instantly wiping away Ethan’s earlier smirk. “You see, boy, I told you not to forget my name because I am your law and that I’d be damned if I let you defy me. Well, slave, you defied me. It’s time you paid the piper, and the pierce is apt to be an excruciating one.”

***

In a little grass field, about a five minute walk outside the city wall, there was a single, large tree sitting in the middle. Standing in the grass field were the thousands of slaves who had just come back from their work. Though they looked exhausted, the atmosphere was more tense than ever. They all stood in a circle around the tree, staring with pity and anticipation.

That was because Ethan was chained with his chest pressed against the large tree, struggling to break free. With his strength, he should have been able to break free from the tree given enough time, but he found that his strength was lacking. Rather, it felt completely sapped, as if he were no stronger than a normal person.

Darrell, noticing Ethan’s confusion and terror at his strength’s absence, decided to let him in on the secret.

“You look puzzled, boy. I’m surprised you can’t figure it out. Do you want to know?”

“Fuck off.”

“Don’t fucking give me lip!” he yelled while kicking Ethan across the back. “My patience has run thin with you.”

Ethan toughed through the pain. “Don’t worry, I know how your little mystery chains work. They’re made from Giovantine, the raw mineral in Batrock alloy. It’s Geinta conductive and is essentially siphoning my energy out of my body and releasing it into the atmosphere.”

“Hoh, color me surprised, slave. Despite Batrock being everywhere, most don’t know about the Gio.”

“I know more than most in this world. I’m not some sheep who lives out their life mindlessly.”

Darrel’s expression crumbles. “That’s where you’re damn wrong. That’s all you are, slave. A sheep to be herded as I see fit.”

He then kicked Ethan in the back once more, this time with more force. Ethan let out a grunt from being kicked by an Awakened, but luckily none of his ribs were broken, despite Darrell, in that moment, having the ability to kill him if he wanted.

However, he hadn’t the time to be thankful for such a mercy as an even greater punishment was about to come. He knew it was coming. He knew why he was chained to a tree with his bare back exposed.

A punishment dished out of all slaves when they misbehave.

“Clench your teeth, boy!” That was all Ethan heard before …

WHAP!

“GAAAH!” An intense, concentrated pain from the end of the whip slicing into and peeling off his skin caused him to scream out a shrill which he hadn’t heard himself make in many years. Even with his impressive tolerance for pain, the intense burning of a whip’s laceration was nothing like he had ever experienced before.

WHAP!

Again, the whip lacerated his back. He gritted his teeth and tensed every muscle in his body in an attempt to prevent himself from screaming, but a weak grunt still escaped his mouth.

WHAP!

A third time he was whipped, an even louder grunt escaped his mouth. He butted his head against the trunk of the tree and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to prevent his tears from flowing. However, the next whip came and he couldn't stop the teardrops from streaming down his face.

He was whipped a fifth time, a sixth time, a seventh time. Each time, he gritted his teeth and forced down the pathetic scream which his body wanted to release. The intense burning sensation on his back began to spread throughout his entire body, and each time he was whipped he found it harder to brace himself as his strength continually left his muscles.

A tenth time, a twentieth time, a thirtieth time. At this point, he had long since stopped trying to stay strong. Each time the whip hit his back, he let out a scream of agony appropriate for someone his age, which startled him. He had convinced himself that he was someone who could stand up to any sort of pain no matter what, but this had scattered that misconception.

All around him, thousands of slaves watched, though some were unable to watch and had turned away, as a sixteen year old kid was savagely whipped, the skin of his back slowly disappearing. He had stayed strong throughout the first twenty, but with the head leasher as the helm of the whip, there was no way his will could have stayed intact for long.

The word about who he was and what he had done had spread throughout the entire slave population. Therefore, they understood that this was the head leasher’s idea of a showing of power. The Awakened kid who was made of slave was also made into an example. A lesson for any other slave who dared muster the courage and try what he had.

In the end, he was whipped seventy times. His back bled as if the concept of injuries were going out of style, which generated tremendous pity and sorrow for him. That being said, the sight had also achieved what head leasher Darrell had wanted: a brutal warning. The anxious and excited mood which had encompassed the slaves as a result of Ethan’s earlier actions had been thoroughly destroyed.

Ethan, still chained to the tree, waited for the next whip to come, but it never did. Instead, a group of leashers unchained him and reactivated his electric collar. They then dragged him back to his cell, where they dumped him as if they were handling trash. The other slaves were herded back into the barracks, wondering as to the condition of the poor, brave kid which had shown them just a small taste of revenge.

***

The next morning, Ethan woke up lying on his stomach as his lacerated back screamed out in agony. His breathing was ragged and his muscles ached like never before. He slowly pushed himself off the ground and onto his butt.

Every movement stung and it generated a pain filled grunt which involuntarily left through his teeth.

He began thinking back to yesterday, remembering every time the whip hit, hearing the satisfied expressions coming from the leashers, the gasps coming from the surrounding slaves, etc. He remembered every vivid detail about yesterday, as he never lost consciousness nor allowed his brain to block his senses. He focused on every, excrustationg moment he was chained to that tree.

“FUUUUCK!”

Suddenly, his eyes became bloodshot as he let out a mighty, rage filled yell. He let them beat him. That flogging broke his will to fight yesterday, and eventually, he succumbed to his natural urge to cry out in pain. That was something unforgivable to him.

For the last five years, he had attempted to erase any kind of weakness from himself, and yesterday proved that he had not succeeded. They broke him. They won.

He couldn’t stop himself from crying, which wasn’t that surprising. At that moment, he was feeling every kind of negative emotion possible. Rage, sadness, regret, frustration, disgust, and one which he thought he had rid himself of, fear. Everyone of these emotions were painted across his face.

After half an hour, the guards found him quietly crying by himself and, after ridiculing him for doing so, they aggressively moved him outside for roll call. They placed him in the front row in a very indiscreet way, pulling all of the stares of the slaves in the rows behind him. As they’re eyes landed on him, he could hear whispers regarding his whipping the night before.

It was very apparent to the rest of the slaves that, despite him being absent for yesterday’s roll call, he was there to display the results of his flogging. Their pity towards him grown as a result.

During the roll call, Ethan stood in silence, staring at the ground with vacant eyes whilst occasionally listening to his surroundings. He heard his name called and felt a leasher tap him on the shoulder to confirm his presence, but he did not give a reaction to this.

He was essentially numb to what was happening around him.

After everyone was confirmed to be present, the head leasher appeared from the direction of the city wall’s exit. He noticed that roll call had finished and his eyes quickly made their way to Ethan.

Upon seeing Ethan’s ragged and disheartened expression, his lips curled into an ever so slight sadistic grin, proud that he had beaten the kid into submission. He walked up to Ethan with confidence and stopped in his tracks next to him.

“Heya, slave. Mighty fine day we’re having.” He then surveyed the crowd and could hear the whispers had intensified once he interacted with Ethan. “Looks like they’re all still frazzled from last night. I can’t blame ‘em. Hoh~, what a show that was. Don’t you think, boy?”

He then, with a cheerful expression on his face, playfully slapped Ethan’s gashed back as if he was teasing a friend.

However, the pain of such actions nearly caused Ethan’s knees to buckle from the pain. He swallowed his grunt and tried to keep a straight face but he couldn’t stop a tear from welling up in his eye. In a subservient manner, he kept his eyes glued to the ground.

However,

“Oi, is he going to do something?”

“Probably not.”

“There’s no way.”

The whispers from the surrounding slaves reached his ears. They had watched his flogging from beginning to end, so they knew how much he had to be suffering. However, they couldn’t stop themselves from being slightly disappointed, as he had been the first rebellious slave to take the lives of various leashes. He was, in a sense, a hero to them.

“Not after yesterday,” the whispers continued.

“Yeah, poor thing.”

“He was made an example of. They definitely broke him.”

“I can’t blame him for falling in line.”

These rumors caused Ethan to flinch as they struck a nerve within him. He slowly began to raise his head from the ground to face the head leasher.

Are they … talking about me? Poor thing? They broke me? Is that how they see me?

Ethan then began to think back on the past few minutes. He realised how dispirited and detached from reality he probably looked.

They’re right! How could I fucking let them win?! These guys put me through one bad day and I act like it’s all over! I even cried! Fuck!

Snapping out of his daze, strength returned to his eyes as his gaze met the head leasher’s. He noticed that he wore a satisfied smile, which caused his blood to boil and he sheathed his rage.

“Are you happy?” Ethan mumbled inaudibly.

“What was that, slave?” the head leasher asked back.

“Are you satisfied with your work?! Have you come here to gloat, you pathetic shit stain?!”

“What did you …” but the head leasher was cut off but a sudden punch to the diaphragm, sending him flying backwards and tumbling on the ground. He held his stomach, trying to regain his breath while coughing. The other leashers immediately went into defense positions.

“Fine! I’ll fucking admit you beat me, but you’ll never break me! You better fucking remember it, Daniel!” Ethan yelled, once again emphasizing the wrong name. “I’ll fucking kill you the first chance I get!”

He then dashed towards a group of three guards standing there in battle ready stances. One of them tried to dodge a punch thrown by Ethan, but the fist was simply too fast and struck him right in the face, killing him.

As the leasher’s dead body went flying, Ethan turned his sights towards the other two leashers, but before he could attack, his collar once again electrocuted him, but this time, he did not fall unconscious.

Laying on the ground, unable to move, his fierce expression and aura remained as he stared at Darrel who was holding the collar remote.

“G-guess my body is getting accustomed to the shock. P-pretty soon, your collar will be useless. On that day, Damien, I will rip your narcissistic tongue from your mouth and force feed it to your mother!”

“It’s Darrell, your fucking slave! You actually dared to threaten my mother?! I will peel your fucking skin from your bones one lash at a time. You think you're invincible?! I will prove you wrong! By the time I’m done with you, you’ll be begging for death.”

The surrounding slaves and leasher shuttered, the air seemingly growing colder as Darrell and Ethan stared at each other with overflowing murderous intent.

Although the slaves were glad that he stood his ground and fought back, they also knew that a fate worse than death was waiting in his future.

***

After that, every day for Ethan was filled with one kind of torture after another. Sweatboxing, sleep deprivation, waterboarding (Darrell wanted to test this one), and floggings to the chest, arms, and legs. Every day, a new part of his body received an abundant amount of scars.

But, true to his word, his spirit never broke. In fact, his defiant and rebellious attitude was only heightened by the continually cruel treatment. During his nightly flogging, he would taunt Darrell, adamantly trying to get under the head leasher’s skin more and more.

By the 8th day, after spending the whole day in a sweatbox, he was once again chained to the large tree in front of thousands of slaves. Only, this time, the atmosphere wasn’t nearly as heavy and depressing.

The nightly flogging had almost become ritual over the past eight days, and Ethan, especially, treated it like a show. Although he suffered, it was a chance to bring shame and humiliation to the leashers. Tonight was no exception.

After the tenth whip, although a grunt exited his mouth, a smile never left Ethan’s face.

“Ohhh yeah! That’s the spot! I give a nine out of ten!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Darrel yelled with rage and frustration, his face bright red from embarrassment. His massive ego was being stomped on by Ethan and the rest of the slaves who joined in on his games. The self proclaimed “law” of the slaves was now nothing more than a child throwing a tantrum.

He cocked his arm back and swung the whip once again, delivering an intense impact to Ethan’s chest.

“T-that one stung a little, Dylan,” Ethan said in an insincere meek voice while batting his eyelashes. “You’ll have to be a little more gentle with a delicate maiden like me!”

This coy attitude generated some laughter from the spectating slaves, which only intensified once they turned to see Darrell’s face seething with unbridled fury.

Grinding his teeth, he unleashed a series of intense whips across Ethan’s chest, each one harder than the last, until his poor torso looked more akin to hamburger than skin.

Tears welled up in Ethan’s eyes but he never lost his calm and collected demeanor. His spirit wasn’t anywhere close to being broken.

“I could feel some passion behind those, Dustin. You would happen to be sweet on me, would you? Haha!”

However, his teasing did not elicit a response from Darrell. He just stood there with an expressionless face, as if to say he gave up. At this moment, Ethan and the other slaves thought he had won, but they were woefully mistaken.

“So, boy, you like that?” Darrell suddenly asked.

“Huh?” Ethan couldn’t help but say aloud.

“You like teasing men?”

“What the fuck are you …”

“No, I know why my methods weren’t working. You're a sicko who gets off on this.”

Ethan’s eyes sharpened. This guy is very mistaken about something. Did he finally snap or ...

But when he looked at the smile returning to Darrell’s face, he knew that, instead of a misunderstanding, a different type of hell was in store for him.

“I …

“No fucking getting out of it now, boy! You like teasing and being abused by men, then I know of the perfect person to give it to you!”

Darrell then approached Ethan and whispered into his ear. “You're gonna wish you’d just fallen in line. These past eight days are gonna seem like seventh heaven in comparison.”

Ethan stared back at him with doubtful eyes, finding it hard to believe that a worse treatment was even possible. He was soon proved wrong.