"Bern, you're going to get yourself killed . That's the fourth time this week the executioner's sentenced you to 40 lashes for not hitting your target," Glenn said to the man named Bern.
Bern had once been a powerful, muscular man, but he'd become heavyset after losing a lot of weight working as a slave in the mines. His muscles had softened without the intense training he used to do, and with the poor food here, his body was slowly falling apart. His hair had gone completely gray, and his beard was a mess. His right eye was completely white and blind from one of his failed escapades.
"Relax, Glenn, I know what I'm doing. These guards are just low-ranking soldiers barely awake," Bern said, raising his wrists to show a different chain than the one that bound Glenn. "If it weren't for these suppressors, I wouldn't even feel their blows," he added with a smirk.
"Shut up, you crazy old man. It might not hurt you, but if they hear you and decide to take it out on me, I'll be the one paying for it all week. And then there's that damn room with the pink gas," Glenn whispered, leaning in close to Bern's ear.
Bern was the only friend Glenn had managed to keep in this hellhole. This had happened five months after Glenn was first exposed to the strange pink gas. For one hundred and fifty days, all his neighbors had died in a single night. Glenn even started calling the next room "the cursed lust room." No demon had ever survived more than one night there. But two weeks ago, Bern became his new roommate, against all odds.
Through the translucent wall, Glenn saw Bern using yet another trick to resist the gas. He simply held his breath for several minutes, something Glenn thought was impossible for anyone else.
Out of curiosity, Glenn got closer over the following days and discovered that Bern was able to do this because he was an Awakened—on the verge of becoming a Warrior.
"I would've made it, of course, if that bitch hadn't handed me over to the city guard," Bern said proudly, puffing out his chest. Soon after, a soldier punched him in the ribs, shouting at him to get back to work.
"Yeah, right. Like being a professional thief was a legit career choice. You're lucky they didn't just chop your head off after you tried to rob the Ferrox Umbra family's convoy," Glenn said, shaking his head.
"Details, kid, details. High risks, high rewards. That would've been my retirement," Bern replied.
"Your retirement now is living with your finger up your ass, trying not to die from a heart attack every time you get hard from a blowjob. Kkkkk," Glenn laughed.
"At least I won't die a virgin. But you, fallen nobleman—you won't even get to enjoy the divine tool the gods gave you. Now that's what I call a curse. Kkkk," Bern chuckled loudly.
"Shut up. I don't know why I still talk to you, you old pervert," Glenn said, though the smile on his face showed how close the two had become. A strange bond had quickly formed between them over the last few days. "Maybe I would've been a bad boy in my past life if it weren't for the cancer," Glenn thought.
They arrived at their rooms, exchanged farewells, and entered their respective torture sessions.
I went into my room, getting ready for the ritual of resistance I'd perfected over the past five months. As soon as the door closed behind me, I noticed something had been left on my bed. But I ignored it for now and rushed to the bathroom, sitting by the tap in a meditation posture, waiting for the pink gas to flood the room.
"What's going on?" I wondered when no gas filled the room. I waited a few more minutes before standing up to check on the other rooms.
"What the hell is this?" I asked Bern through the translucent wall. The material wasn't soundproof, so talking was easy.
"I don't know, but they left us some new food," Bern said, holding up a strange orange-skinned fruit.
I walked up to the tray and saw five of the same fruits Bern was eating, sitting on a tray above my bed. They were round but slightly oblong, about the size of a small apple or medium orange, ranging from 5 to 12 cm in diameter. The skin was thick and leathery, clearly protecting the inside. The fruits were a mix of light yellow to deep red.
"What the hell is that?" I asked Bern.
"Beats me. I've never seen anything like it," Bern said, chewing on the fruit, peel and all.
'Even with Glenn's memories of this world, I can't figure out what this is. Should I eat it?'
"Do you think it's safe to eat that stuff?" I asked.
"Cough, cough! If you don't eat the skin, it should be fine," Bern said, coughing up a hard chunk of bark from his mouth.
I searched around my room for the dog food the executioners usually gave us, but found nothing. "Looks is our new meal."
I gave the fruit a firm squeeze and split it in half. The inside was surprising: it was segmented by thin white membranes that held numerous seeds. I tasted the flesh, and it was sweet, like a ripe peach, while the seeds had a slightly bitter taste.
"This is delicious!" Bern shouted.
"You're right. I've been eating nothing but dog food in this hellhole for three years," I agreed.
The sensation of pleasure filled my mouth, spreading down my throat and into my stomach. I quickly devoured all five fruits from the tray. It felt amazing—finally having a full belly after three years here was something I couldn't even put into words.
"Knock-knock," I heard a sound through the wall, and saw Bern pointing to the edges of the room. "Damn gas is back. Better get ready," Bern warned.
I realized what was happening and quickly positioned myself according to the ritual I'd developed.
"Totally uncomfortable position, check."
"Pointed stone, check."
"Water tap next to me, check."
"Penis tied to my waist with the rest of an old pair of pants, check."
"New acquisition: straw tray to destroy in madness, check." (This was the tray with the fruit.)
Soon enough, the pink gas began to fill the room. I breathed it in slowly, little by little, almost imperceptibly.
'Slowly, slowly, control yourself, control yourself'—I had to stay calm.
But then I frowned. An unbearable heat began to rise from my stomach, up to my lungs. At first, it was mild, but soon it felt like an erupting volcano.
'What the hell is this? Was it those fruits?'
Within minutes, it became unbearable. My controlled breathing was shot, and I ended up inhaling a huge breath of gas, which mixed with the heat inside my body.
"Haaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa..." I screamed, unable to control it anymore. In desperation, I jabbed a sharp stone into my left thigh, hoping the pain would help me stay grounded. But it was like a drop of water in a raging fire.
"Clunk-clunk-clunk-clunk-clunk," I twisted, over and over, unable to stop.
Whatever that fruit was, it had been sent by the devil himself to make our lives even worse. The strange food had multiplied the effects of the gas by at least thirty times. At this rate, I wasn't going to last much longer.
'Contingency plan', quick_—I thought. While I could still control my body, I quickly shoved my head into the toilet.
"Blup-blup-blup-blup-blup-blup. Haaaaaaaaaaa," I breathed the gas in, then immediately shoved my head in the toilet, expelling the air from my lungs.
After ten minutes, I heard things breaking in the room next to mine.
"This isn't the time to worry about other people," I thought, forcing my head back into the toilet and stabbing my leg again with the stone in my hand.
Three hours passed. "Today felt like twenty," I muttered to myself.
Lying on the floor, my vision started to fade. "My body's giving out. Bern, Bern?" I called out, but then I lost consciousness.
"Shit, it can't be... it can't be!"
Struggling to stay upright, I dragged myself to the bed, where I could see into the next room. What I saw there sent a chill down my spine.