The Rune (1.1)

After much soul-searching, I have decided to write a few short stories, unrelated to the other works, before continuing on with the next of the Shadow Wolf Sagas, just to keep it fresh. As always, this is raw and uncut; enjoy responsibly.

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The cell envelops me. It is cold and dark, a womb of stone and iron bereft of sun, warmth, and comfort. A little stone bench and a chamber pot are the only furnishings of consequence. Small tubes eject water and nutrient capsules at regular intervals.

The cell across from me is dark. Those yawning shadows could conceal any number of horrors and my eyes often dart, furtively, toward them. Yet no sound issues forth from the darkness, save perhaps a faint breathing.

Every fiber of my being felt screams that I am being watched, and yet I cansee no evidence of eyes upon me. There are no visible cameras or wires in the cell, but they have to be watching me.

Unless they just brought me here to rot…

How long have I been here? Three days? On the first day two inquisitors came to the little cell and asked me a litany of questions. They were interested in the test, of course. I assured them that the results were aberrant, and that if allowed to take the test again, I would prove myself to them. I would then return to my safe little life, ten hours of battery per day, followed by six to eight hours of gaming and occasional socialization, followed by fitful sleep, wash, rinse, repeat, die.

Except they didn’t buy it. I try in vain to remember the test questions, to guess which of the questions had invoked my doom. Surely they could not stake a person’s life on a single answer…

Unless it was not an answer, but a question that gave me away. A question that only someone like me could see…

I can see the runes. I have been able to see them for years now, tried to hide it, but the test got me… It always does they say…

I look around the little cell for the thousandth time.

I try to ignore the massive rune on the wall right in front of me.