A Once Distant Memory Chapter 6
By Shaun Curran
I looked up as the door opened and Dalton walked through, with a small pushcart. There were five plates on it with food. It looked greasy and unappetizing, but I was hungry. I dared not say anything to Dalton; for fear that he wouldn't feed me. How low I was! I was about to eat something that looked like leftovers, when I was the Prince of Zeal!
But one must endure such things if he expects to survive. I awaited the food, but Dalton fed the others first; personally, and then he fed me. I believe he did this just to antagonize me.
"Well, Janus Zeal, how's it feel to be a part of those cursed freaks and enemies of yours that you trapped into the dungeon and forgotten? How's it feel to be fed, when you cannot use your arms?" I said nothing, but my insides were growing furious with anger and hatred. And the more and more I thought about it; the more and surer I was that I was going to kill him.
"You and your friends die at sunrise," Dalton announced as I swallowed the last of the greenish slime that he force-fed me. "So enjoy your last moments of 'freedom'." And with that, Dalton walked out the door with the pushcart. We were all downcast. Magus glanced up at me.
"Janus.... finish the story."
"What difference does it make?" I asked," we all die anyway."
"Please, Janus, go on," said Schala. I sighed.
"Do you remember any of this?" I asked. Quelchen exploded.
"For the millionth time no!" he said.
"Then what the hell difference does it make if I go on or not!" I screamed.
"Janus!" shouted Schala. "Quelchen, please. Let him go on."
"I'm not going on for Quelchen." Schala looked at me with teardrops in her eyes.
"Then.... then go on for me." I stared at the floor.
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