Unknown.

31

The hallway has gone black, dark as the raven flying in the jet tar coloured midnight sky.
Everything is pitch black; it's like someone has put a dark inky blanket over us- to shield us perhaps, because I can hear both of the boys breathing. They're alive.
Then who's dead, or maybe injured after that gun shot? I'm not dead; Otherwise, how could I even think?
It doesn't make sense? Why is everything so sable black, then?
"Who turned off the lights?" Someone asks; it sounds like Josh. His voice is so close, yet so unreachable.
I start to move back to catch where he is standing in this pitch blackness. Warmth envelopes me and I find myself crawling into someone's arms, and resting myself on to his chest.
"It'll be alright," The boy whispers; I think I'm holding onto Dylan, but I'm not sure. It doesn't feel like Dylan; or even smell like Dylan. I nod my head to whatever he says, and just stand there, until I hear his voice again, this time, more quieter and into my ears. "The power supply has probably gone off,"
"The power supply?" I say, hesitantly. "The lights can't just go, someone must've turned them off,"
The boy's grip tightens, more violently. "That's exactly what I was thinking," His voice is calm and gentle, even when we're in a situation where the person who wants to rip my guts out is creeping around in this very hallway.
"Unknown?" I hear my name being called out from another direction. That voice doesn't belong to Josh. It belongs to someone else; someone extremely familiar.
It takes me time, but then it suddenly comes to me. "DYLAN?" I scream out to the voice that has called out my name. Wait...if the person calling out my name is Dylan, then who is this guy holding me?
"Unknown?" The real Dylan calls out once more.
I'm screaming now; but soon one hand has clutched my waist, and the other is muffling out my yells for help.
"Keep it shut," The boy grumbles as he drags me across the floor and into an unfamiliar room with a strange stench.
My vision is starting to come back, and I can see again because this room's has lights turned on.
It's hard to make out what is actually going on because there are so many unfamiliar faces in this room. And what's worse is that there is that weird smell; the smell of dead corpses rotting in the summer heat.
There are yells and moans, but they aren't coming from me, they're coming from the other people in this room.
My eyes open immediately, as I start to look around the room to observe it. "What the-" I pause, and then let out the next word in confusion. "fu*k...?"
I look at the different people lying in the room, all of them bruised, and broken; injured or maybe even dead. There are men and woman, teenage girls and boys, toddlers and children.
"Where am I?" I whisper to myself. "And who brought me here?" Who am I kidding? Of course I know who brought me here; it was obviously that daddy's boy Brett. Brett Mandeth. The son of Sirois Mandeth.
I let out a groan as I find out my left arm in bruised badly with a few cuts after Brett dragged me across the hard surfaces of the floor: Carpet, then wood, then concrete.
"And why are you here?" I hear someone whisper from behind me.
I twist my head around to see a sandy headed boy with grey silver eyes staring at me. His face looks a little unwashed, with a few small cuts on the cheeks.
I shake my head. "I don't even know where I am?" I whisper.
He smirks and sits down next me. "Welcome to hell," And then he starts to laugh.
I stare at him, scared and confused. Hell? Wait..I'm dead. No. Soon I realise he is just being sarcastic and start to laugh with him. "I can see that," I clench my teeth and close down my nerve wrecking laugh.
He shakes his head. "This is where Sirois Mandeth throws all his prisoners, before killing them," He doesn't seem scared at all as he speaks.
"Oh," I whisper. So this is why Brett brought me here.
"They torture you before they kill you," The boy smiles, and then gets up to walk to a small boy, who must only be around the age of 8 or maybe even less.
"Cute kid," I whisper and follow his steps towards the little scared boy who is standing with tears in his eyes.
"He is my little brother," The sandy boy smiles, and then he shakes his head. "Oh, I'm so sorry, I never got to catch on your name,"
I laugh. "My name is Unknown,"
"Alex," The boy returns a grin and shakes my hand. "And this is Derek," Alex points at the little 8 year old.
"Well nice to meet you Derek," I giggle, and rub the small little boy's hair with the palm of my hand.
"TAKE THEM!" A shout comes from behind us. A few men come in and drag an old lady and a few small kids away, and out of the room.
"Where are they taking those people?" I ask Alex, in confusion.
He doesn't reply and then let's his words out in a whisper. "To kill..."
School is getting worse and worse.
I feel as if the teachers are actually planning to kill us with all the homework -__-