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Pulling against the tight confines of my newly appointed uniform, I follow behind a girl I only just met who apparently works here.

"You have this aisle. All you have to do is make sure no one gets out, or screams, or troubles any other patients. Every now and again you can bring them food," she informs me, pausing at the intersection of the aisle. On one side, it's a normal looking sight of treatment rooms holding patients, however on the other, it's the same strange hallway with dimly lit cells. I shiver, not being able to see past the darkness at whoever dwells down there.

Glancing back at Renna, the overly friendly girl who informed me quickly that she works here almost full time, and will likely be one of the only other workers that I'll see, seeing that our aisles are relatively close together. I don't mind so much, she seems kind, and in reality, I'm just here to make enough money to have some independence.

"How many are down there?" I ask nervously, staring into the darkness, the silver bars appearing more vividly as my vision starts to adjust.

I haven't had any experience with magic purposefully, so being this close to many of those who may not wield it, but have been in contact with it is terrifying. This makes me grateful for being a mortal, not having to worry about ever being cast into a place like this, hidden so outsiders don't have any idea it exists.

"Thirteen cells, with nine of them being full," Renna informs me promptly, her white teeth gleaming under the artificial lighting, close in colour to the pale walls and slick flooring. I wonder if I'll ever see her in normal daylight. In here, her blue eyes are a dark, sultry shade, her brunette locks dead straight and light in colour.

"Do you know what any of them are like?" I ask softly, not wanting to speak too loud and at risk of any of them hearing me. My job shouldn't be too invasive, but I can't help my curiosity.

"The patients? They are all relatively the same," she remarks with a bored shrug, leaning her shoulder against the wall. This uniform is far more flattering on her, consisting of dark jeans and a tight shirt which sits underneath a covering we are meant to wear around patients. It's sad, really. "They all have magic related injuries that completely fried their brains."

Sighing through my nose, I ignore the chill in my blood. "That's horrible."

"All except one, right at the end," she muses, pointing into the endless abyss of darkness. I frown, not realising they took anyone else, considering this underground facility is purely for monitoring those with magical injuries, not anything else that's typically mortal.

"Who's in there?" I ask nervously.

"It's a very strange case. One day, Cian, the pure-blood Sin just walked straight in here and admitted himself. He's never requested to leave since," she tells me simply, pushing off the wall to motion for me to follow her. I hesitate, looking back down the hallway, suddenly unsure of whether I want to see and know more, or if I want to flee from here.

I know very little of the immortals who are personifications of each sin and virtue, as mortal schools don't openly like to teach anything about it, especially about the sins. Yet I know enough to be scared, alongside all the horror stories I was told growing up. All I know is that I should be frightened.

Anxiously, I follow Renna away from that dark hallway where Cian dwells. "Wait, why?"

"He wouldn't say. In fact, he hasn't said a word since he arrived," she admits, raising an eyebrow at me, daring me to ask more, already knowing she has lured me in. This is a story she likely shares with all those newly employed here. "Not to mention he has been here for three years. Not a single word out of his mouth.

"And no one cares?" I question. If he hasn't had any particular injury, they should be trying to help him, trying to figure out what would lead him to admit himself into this facility.

"There's nothing we can do. He's a pure-blood, he makes his own decisions beyond us," she tells me. A dark shadow passes over her eyes, brows furrowing slightly. This is rhetoric she has been told by someone higher up, warning her not to question it. Curiosity mingles with fear within me, stinging beneath my skin.

"Maybe I can make him talk," I offer. I'm willing to try, knowing this is just a job, but I want to be able to help. Who would want to live in this miserable place willingly.

Renna turns around as she opens the door to the staff room, motioning me in through a veil of hazy dust and stale scent from an incense nearby. The way she looks at me, smiling slightly while shaking her head, suggests she is amused by me.

"Unlikely," she notes, tossing her clipboard onto a nearby table. "We've all had a go at it, but he's adamant about not saying a word."

Stiffly I sit down on a wooden chair, wishing there were windows in this concrete box they call a staff room, even if there would be nothing to see outside. I'm not sure how far underground we are, but it's enough to cast everything in a sense of coldness, the air stale and thick. Thinking about what it's like to live in here permanently leaves me with an uncomfortable sense of unease.

"So now what?" I ask, mind numb from the extensive tour of the facility that I just experienced and all the information I have since acquired. Lev will be fascinated to hear all this, although will attempt to convince me to not work here, considering how dangerous being in the proximity of an immortal sin is.

"Like I said, make sure everyone is quiet and not bothering each other. I'll come back at lunch," she tells me, sending me off with a quick wink, leaving me shrouded in silence.

Well, I suppose I better get to work.

***

A week past and I didn't let into the temptation that has been persistently buzzing inside me since my first day.

I've seen Renna in passing, who keeps me up to date with all the work-related gossip, which usually involves her patients. I haven't dealt with any particularly difficult patients, most ignoring me or are bound down to their beds. Each has a vacant, far off look in their eyes, touched by the darkest magic that I hope to never witness in my life. '

Although that doesn't seem likely, since I've decided I have to do it. I have to speak to Cian.

I'm not sure why I want to speak to him so desperately. Perhaps it's the mystery, or the fact that everyone tells me to avoid him, which isn't difficult considering he doesn't need food like everyone else. Or maybe it's my desire to help him. It's only been five days that I have been working here and already I'm haunted by the idea of living here, of this being a full-time reality. It sticks with me, even after I hang up my uniform and remmerge into daylight again.

And if he is behind these bars, he won't be much of a threat to me anyway...Why would he decide to attack me when he hasn't even moved from here in many years.

I wait until Renna is taking her break for me to risk venturing down the dark hallway, knowing she will be invested in her favourite book and snack for the next half-hour.

The bottoms of my shoes tapping against the floor disrupt the perfect silence, the lighting dim down this end, although as my eyes adjust, I am able to see the steel bars of the cells and even into them. Most I pass are empty, although some have hunched figures curled up on the floor, starting anywhere but at me. I've dealt with these patients before...they are the most frightening, as they appear to be functioning bodies with a mind wiped away by magic.

I walk all the way to the end, shivering at the brittle air that seeps through my clothing, struggling not to cough at the stagnant, stale air that dwells back here. How can anyone live like this?

I reach the end cell, pausing in front of it. There isn't much to see, but there is no missing the fact that I'm starting at a pure-blood immortal sin. It just seems so...obvious.

He leans against the far wall, legs sprawled out in front of him, wearing dark trousers and grey tunic that look awfully clean for someone who hasn't accepted any clothing or other possessions from anyone else working here. His hair is damp, hanging down in front of his face, falling short at his eyelashes. My breath catches in my throat as I realise the roots of his hair are golden, the colour spilling out before fading away into ebony ends.

"Hi Cian," I breathe, inwardly cursing at my shuddering breath, the way my nerves seem so apparent. I crouch down, wanting to be somewhat level with him as I grasp a steel bar, nearly flinching away at it's slimy texture. "I'm Amolet."

He doesn't respond. Instead, he stares downward at his hands, not moving a single inch. There's no sign of life there, no sign that he has a working mind, any ability to be coherent. It has my stomach sinking, which is a feeling I've become accustomed to here. It's sad seeing people like this, cast into their own vacant world due to something as wicked as magic.

"I'll be working here from now on, so I hope we can...get to know each other," I offer lamely, the cheer in my voice diminishing with each word that passes my lips.

Again, no movement. Not even a flicker of recognition in those dark eyes. This was a bad idea. I should have listened to Renna and not wasted my time coming down here, I mean, what did I think was going to happen? If he wasn't willing to speak to a single soul since coming here, why would he have any interest in me?

"You don't have to talk to me, just know that I'll be here," I say simply, standing again.

I'm not sure what I hoped for. Maybe a nod, perhaps for him to even meet my gaze. Once again, there is nothing, but I silently affirm to myself that this isn't the last time I'm going to speak to him.

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Sophie_Midika

Midikacrane

~Midika 💜🐼