Aluran wasn't sure what was worse: the long stretches of encompassing darkness that hindered his eyesight and made him sensitive to the light or the sudden, perpetual flash of sun that subjected him to the horrors of what hid in his dark, dank cell room. Neither option was appealing. Night time lasted too long and daylight burned his delicate retinas, but it wasn't like he had a choice. At least in the darkness he couldn't see the corpses of fellow Valos littered across the chamber floor. Most were in various stages of decay, their damaged flesh rotted and infested with maggots or insects that crawled from their spoiled wounds. The stench of the fallen bodies wafted beneath his nose; so vile and putrid, it took Aluran ages to keep from vomiting. Longer still, to grow accustomed to the rancid odor. It grew worse in the dark, when the stretches of nightfall lingered longer than normal and the use of his eyes were limited. Sometimes he could taste it on his tongue, pungent and revolting, like eating month old meat left out in the heat of the sun. Still, Aluran couldn't decide if he preferred to watch his dead company or smell them. How long had he been here, trapped within these dripping, blood stained walls? There were no windows in his prison. The air was dank and rancid; his only source of light came from the sun that seemed to pop into existence after long periods of darkness. Aluran tried to keep track of time through the slop his captors fed him, but it'd been inconsistent. He wasn't fed in regular intervals, only when they remembered to or wished to shut the wailings of the other prisoners. He tried tracking by their visitation, but just like his food, the Karkans came to his cell whenever they pleased. The pain he received from his torture after their visits kept his mind from functioning. What felt like hours could have been minutes and what could have been minutes were probably seconds. He could have been here for days, weeks. Maybe even months. Aluran couldn't tell. It depressed him too much to think of it. The Valon eyed his dirty bowl of "food" with distaste. The slosh the Karkan fed him was almost as putrid as his dead company - gray and lumpy with the consistency of soup. He was lucky it didn't taste like anything, though he was certain the chunks of "meat" he found in his dish were pieces of Valon meat. It nauseated him to ingest their disgusting swill, but he had long since abandoned starving himself in an act of defiance. He needed his strength to survive their brutal encounters. He would force himself to eat, if only so he wouldn't have to stare at it any longer. Having his fill of the horrid meal, Aluran tossed the rest aside without a care. His muscles constricted from the harsh movement, straining the tattered flesh across his back in wretched agony. Aluran hissed. He felt something warm trickle down the length of his back, his torn and ragged clothes uncomfortably sticky against his wounds. The scent of iron filled the air. The Valon whimpered, tears prickling the edges of his puffy eyes. How could this have happened to him? How foolish he had been! He should have been more careful, less impulsive; more aware. He should have seen the signs, but how could he? The Karkan were tricksters, skilled in a way Aluran had never seen before now. His mind ached from the memory of a gray distorted creature, tall and imposing. He couldn't recall the face of his captor or even if he had gotten a good look. It happened so fast... Aluran's backside continued to pulse in pain. It hurt to sit or lean against the wall - it hurt to breathe. He wasn't sure what the Karkans had done to him, but he was certain the extent of his damage was nightmarish. The entirety of his back, from the tip of his shoulders to the ends of his knees flared in white hot pain. He ached on the inside from his captor's intrusiveness, but Aluran forced himself not to think of it. He curled tightly on the ground, in a far off corner that wasn't covered in valon decay or infested with rats, and buried his dirty face behind his shackled hands. It hurt to curl up so tight, yet Aluran felt the smaller he was, the better. Maybe if he hid well enough in the dark, the Karkans would think him gone and hunt for another captive to satiate their horrendous agenda. He wished it were possible. A rustle from the far end piqued his interest. Another rat possibly, but as the sound continued, Aluran poked his head from between his arms and strained his eyes in the darkness. The pile of corpses twitched and clanked, their chains from broken shackles scrapping the floor. Something dark rose out from beneath the bodies. Aluran tensed, panic thumping in his chest. The figure shambled out of the heap, its form sickeningly thin, and its clothes just as tatty as Aluran's. He couldn't make out what or who it was in the dark until it shambled closer. Aluran bit back a terrified gasp. The figure before him was a dead valon. Most of its body had rotted, its flesh devoured by vile creatures. The corpse was practically skeletal, but what little meat it still bore on its bones both terrified and devastated Aluran. This valon had been in the etsera phase just like the others. Just like Aluran. What little face the corpse still retained reminded him of Tebric, his everyn. It broke his heart. "I pity you." The corpse rumbled, its voice strangely low and gravelly. It even sounded like Tebric. "Do you really think you'll make it out alive?" The valon peered down at Aluran's prone form, its eye sockets empty, yet somehow Aluran felt like the creature were staring directly at him. "Isn't it better to die than to continue with this torture?" "You don't know me." Aluran hissed. He grimaced at the harshness of his voice, his throat dry despite having eaten. He mustered what energy he could to saddle a death glare on the Tebric lookalike. Though, he wasn't sure how effective it was in the dark. "I'll... I'll make it through this. I swear it! I'll return to Tebric alive!" The valon corpse drew away from Aluran, its head tilted in a way that conveyed interest. "But at what cost?" Aluran trembled. The Tebric lookalike shuffled back into its dark corner without a word. To Aluran, it seemed to melt into the shadows like an ethereal being, but he heard the rattle of chains and the soft rustle of bodies shift until the figure disappeared beneath the corpses. He licked his lips, wanting to call out to the only companion he had in the dark cell when daylight disrupted the tranquility of night. The sudden harshness of a bright ceiling blinded Aluran momentarily. He hid behind his hands, whimpering again from the burn in his eyes. Anxiety flooded in his veins like poison. He blinked away the tears as fast as he could, his mind screaming for him to hurry up and regain his senses before the Karkans came to torment him. Nothing in this prison seemed consistent save for one: when daylight came, so did the Karkans. It was almost as though they waited for the light to make him suffer. (And yet, somehow, he still couldn't see them no matter how hard he tried.) The heavy iron door swung open with a dreaded creak. Aluran blinked away the tears in time to make out his Karkan captor; broad framed and threatening with sharp curved horns and blood red hair. His facial features seemed blurred in Aluran's eyes, as though he still held tears. He tried to wipe them away, but the Karkan began to approach. Aluran threw up his hands in panic, the skin beneath his shackles rubbed raw from strain. "Please stop!" He cried, his limbs trembling in fear. "Please let me go!" His words fell on deaf ears. In a flash, Aluran's cheek met the cold unforgiving ground, barely inches away from the pile of corpses he'd seen the Tebric lookalike appear from. The creature's claws raked down the length of his back, tearing the muscles and healing flesh like paper. Aluran's screams reverberated off the damp walls. The piercing pain between his legs as the Karkan penetrated his sex was nothing against the agony that enflamed Aluran's backside. The scent of iron overpowered the rot and decay of the cold bunker as it oozed down his frame like a sprinkle of rubies against the hard floor. Aluran shut his eyes. He ignored the tears that streaked down his dirty, pale cheeks and forced himself to escape through his mind. He pictured Tebric through his mind's eye and felt his heart lurch in despair for the everyn he missed so dearly. He pictured the Valon's dark crimson hair, how it fell over his eyes like a cute red curtain. He thought of their first meeting, how unimpressed he'd had been with Tebric's flirting to the pleasantly shocked look on his face when Aluran asked him out on a date. He thought of the Valon's smile, his laughter; the way his lips quirked downward when he was upset or upward when he felt particularly playful. Aluran held onto the image of his lover so fervently, he could almost escape the damp, dirty surroundings of the bunker. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could pretend it was Tebric penetrating his vaginal walls and not - Aluran's mind reeled. He refocused on Tebric again, pushed himself to recall the fresh scent of clean air, the sound of the wind rustling through the leaves. How it felt to be at home again, safe and warm in Tebric's arms. Aluran withdrew so deep into his mind he didn't notice the Karkan sink sharp claws onto his hips or feel hot liquid erupt inside him. He didn't return to the world of the living until the creature was gone, leaving him battered and bruised inside and out. He sobbed into the stone floor, his whole body trembling with the intensity of an earthquake. "How much more can you take?" He heard Tebric's lookalike say. The corpse returned to his side, watching with empty sockets, a ghastly, toothy smile on its torn face. "Even if you do survive and return to your beloved, you will be a Dam to this creature's ilk. Unable to bear again for your everyn." Tears seemed unending on Aluran's face. He didn't know how long he could cry, but it felt like he shed enough tears to last a life time. His body ached, broken and abused, but it was his soul that mourned in a way he never thought he could. He wailed into the air, his mournful cries silencing the murmuring dead. He cried until his voice grew hoarse; his throat pained and dry. He kept on crying, until he tasted speckles of copper on his tongue and it hurt to swallow. He didn't stop until his voice was gone, and even then, he remained curled on the ground, disturbed and violated as tears continued to rain down his cheeks. I'm so sorry Tebric. I'm so sorry. How much more could he withstand this torture? Aluran's hope of escape, his desire to see Tebric in one piece, grew dimmer and dimmer by the day. He wasn't sure how long he could last, trapped in this wretched place. He wasn't sure what he would do if he did leave carrying the child of his captor. How could he ever face Tebric again after this? He would die here, alone, broken and tormented. He would die wallowing in his own blood and piss and Karkan spunk with his fellow valon corpses. Aluran shut his eyes, tired of the tears and the light that plagued him, and willed himself to sleep, fearful of his next awakening.