Page 48 of King of Ruin

Slowly my humanity was being chipped away and I was beginning to realize no matter what, I’d capture the girl.

All I could hope was maybe, somewhere deep inside, I was doing it so that she wouldn’t burn as well.

My dream ended with this thought before I woke up on a cot with fluids in my arm, next to twenty other men.

I’m on day five now, sitting in a long room on the fifth floor with the same guys, give or take. A few left and never came back, being replaced with new faces. The majority of them are teenagers like me, while others are a few years older.

My father has been known to grab the young for their easily corruptible minds, or those in debt.

They’re all recruits, like what I’m pretending to be, and have to be properly trained. Before we start speaking to one another, I can already tell by the bruises and busted lips, most of them will run drugs or weapons, but I can see a few of them will be in charge of the women.

They have a look in their eyes so similar to the one I did when my father had me “quality test” the first shipment of women. The men with a conscience feel guilt, disgust with themselves, and sorrow.

But unlike me, they don’t bear the marks of restraints. Which means they did it without being held down. Without being force-fed drugs to keep their dicks going like a fucking battery rabbit.

If I ever get the freedom I seek, all of the men who test, or run the women, will die. Every last one.

“What’s your name?” A boy with wild red curls nudges me on the leg.

He’s been here a day, and while he’s covered in the same bruises as the others, he has a sort of happiness about him that doesn’t fit the narrative. Almost as if he enjoys whatever he goes through.

“Zek.”

He grins and holds out a hand. He’s missing a top incisor on his left side and his top tooth is cracked. “Name’s Oliver. Friends call me Olly.”

I hesitate for a moment before finally shaking his hand. “And why are you smiling?”

Oliver shrugs, dropping his arm and crossing his legs. “Hmm, people say I’m a wee bit mad.”

“So you’re smiling because you’re crazy?”

He laughs, it’s high and manic, causing everyone else’s head to turn toward him. He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. “My reality is merely different from yours, but truthfully, I’m certain I was born with my sensors in the wrong spot. Pain is pleasure, annoyances are hilarious, and frustration is a delightful puzzle.”

My brows raise. “Is that so?”

Oliver nods, but something crosses his bright brown eyes I can’t make out.

For the two days with them, I’ve stayed quiet. Observant. Watching and listening to everyone and separating the weak from the strong, the evil from the stupid. It’s probably what Phineas intended, wanting me to go through the same treatment as the others, learn about his guards, why he chooses them, and so on. Though until now, I haven’t talked to any of them.

It’s mainly because I’m tired, hungry, and angry as hell, but Oliver has piqued my curiosity. There’s something about him he’s doing a good job of hiding.

I lift my knees, and lean forward, resting my arms on them. “So is that why you came to work for the Murphy family? Because of your sensors?”

One side of his mouth hitches up. “Perhaps.”

I nod.

After a beat of silence he clears his throat. “And you?”

“Paying my debt to the universe.”

“Ah, so not by choice then?”

I suck in a deep breath and immediately regret it. Even with the attached bathroom the men’s two week stay is only granted with one fresh set of clothes a week, leaving them rancid on the days in between.

“No, Oliver. I would say by fate.”

A frown shifts his face into the grumpy cat meme. “That’s even worse. There is no escaping fate, lad.”

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