An Encore from my Crying Heart ♡
27 - Chapter IV : Daily Life Part 4
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The room was bland, annoyingly so. The walls had probably once been the color of milk but time had painted them more green than white, with the color dripping from the ceiling. The only light of the room came from a narrow window, build in the wall he was leaning against. It seemed to be sunny behind the thick ivy as far as he could tell. Moss and thin vines of sort strangled the three bars of the window though they stood strong. He was sure that whenever this building will admit defeat under the scrubs, the bars won’t. They’ll stay. They’ll survive Mother Nature.
The room’s door would too. Like the bars, it was made of iron. The metal was dull, having lost its shine a long time ago. There wasn’t a pawl on this side, only a thick block of metal with a slit at eye level. It was closed from the outside. The only item in the room was the bed he was sitting on. Filthy and squeaking from everything he does. The frame was made of metal, though it didn’t seem to be iron. It looked more like bronze. Or perhaps it was rust. The mattress was strangely yellow, from what he didn’t want to imagine. The smell didn’t leave much room for imagination though.
The whole room reeked. The overwhelming smell of decay and shrubbery. It was hard to breathe.
Still, he took a deep breath: “I am… My name is…” he sighed. His head throbbed with how hard he had been thinking: “I am…” he shook his head, pulling his knees to his chest. His hand wandered to a collar he wore. Uncomfortable would be an understatement when describing the thing. Whatever kind of textile it was made of, it was scratchy and irritated his skin if the burning sensation was anything to go off of. His fingers went over a small, rectangular plate. Its corners were rounded off surprisingly smoothly. On it was things engraved.
R.A - 7639
The other side was blank.
His mind told him it meant something, maybe even connected to his name, how he got here or what here even was. But he came up with nothing. All he remembered was being dragged through a long, long tunnel or hallway. It was white, really white. Not like the room’s walls.
How long had he been in here? His head told him about a day? One and a half? However, his stomach told a different story. It pulled itself in, twisted and turned, eating at itself. A low groan escaped his lips, his arms hugging tightly around his stomach. He needed food! Now!
“Hello?” he called out, hoping for somebody standing in front of the door or outside the window: “Is anybody there?”
There was silence. Then,
Scratch, scratch, scratch
At first, he froze, staring at the door. But the sound didn’t come from the door. It didn’t come from the window either. Hunger momentarily forgotten, he got up, turning his head to hear where it came from.
Scratch, scratch
He got up from the bed, closing his eyes to let his body focus on his hearing. He stood still.
Scratch
It came from below the bed. Grabbed by curiousity, he pulled at the bed’s frame. The thin legs made a horrible squeaking sound. He froze again.
It stayed silent this time.
“Hello?”
Scratch
There was something else besides the scratching. Slowly he got onto hands and knees between bed and wall.
“Who is there?”
There was a small crack in the wall, starting from the ground, barely big enough for a finger.
Scratch, scratch, scratch
Driven by the muffled sounds behind the wall, he began to scratch away the thin stone that covered it, listening for the sounds every now and then. There was a brick, grey and old. Just before he finished freeing all the corners though, hee gasped, crawling back a few inches. The brick grinded against the rest of his brethren than made the wall but didn’t quite free itself, walled in thight. Then he heard it. A soft groan. Then an even softer voice: “H-Hello?”
“I’m here.” He said with surprising steadyness in his voice.
“Could you -ah- help me a little?”
He came back and letting his fingernails work against the harsh cement. Only then did the thought of how dumb this was, cross his mind. He didn’t know who this was! Who he was helping! For all he knew it was someone or -thing dangerous.
He took another step back: “Wait, who are you?”
…
“Hello? Are you still there?”
“Yeah, yeah. Ah I’m here.”
“Then tell me, who are you?” He asked.
“I… I don’t really know. I guess it’s -ah- S.S Number 6271.” the voice answered.
“S… S?” His hand wandered absentmindedly to the small plate hanging from his neck. His fingers traced the engravings.
“What about you? What’s your name?”
“I’m afraid I don’t know either. But I have this weird plate that says R.A with the number 7639.”
There was a hum.
“… Do you think you can help me? The cement around the brick looks dry enough to scratch off.”
Even with logic telling him that it had the high risk of something going wrong, he began to scrape off the grey material.
Son of a gun, it really worked. His fingers burned and even bled a little but the cement was coming off. Bit by bit.
The sunlight dimmed, transformed into a harsh orange behind the dark green ivy. It must be such a beautiful sunset out there right now…
Finally, after night began to reclaim the sky, it happened. With a crumble, the rest of the cement came off. The tiles were cool, not that he wasn’t aware. He wore only the choker and a strange version of a nightgown. Still, though, he pressed his cheek against it. Back looked an eye seemingly made of gold ore. A mix of yellow and grey.
“Hello.”
The other smiled based on the way his cheeks pushed up: “Thank you for helping me. I -ah- heard you. Ah forgive me, you must be pretty hungry, right? Did you have food yet?”
“No, I haven’t.”
The other pushed himself up and disappeared from the hole, giving way for him to look at a blank wall, identical to his own.
“H-Here. You can have it.” The other pushed a piece of what appeared to be bread through the hole. Ravenous, he bit into it, sitting up with his back against the bed. He had never tasted anything that good, no doubt about it.
“Thank you.” he said: “I was starving.”
The other gave a small laugh: “I’m glad I could help.”
“Do you know anything about this place?” He said.
“No, I don’t *know* anything. I only came here a few hours or so ago. But guess this is some sort of prison.”
“But I didn’t commit any crimes.” At least, he was sure he hadn’t. He wasn’t a person to commit crimes… Right?
“Me neither…” the two fell into a deep silence. He looked around the room to make sure there weren’t any cameras.
“So…” the other spoke again, making him lean back down: “Is it alright if I call you R?”
“Since that is all we can go off of, sure. I’ll call you S then.”
“Sounds good. Nice to meet you, R.” S said, cheek partially closing his eye again.
“The pleasure’s all mine… How much do you know before you came here, S?”
“Not much, I’m afraid. I remember… Hm…”
“Is something wrong?” R asked.
“Ah no no. It’s just… Now that I’m thinking about it, I can’t remember anything.”
“That’s okay.” R laughed softly: “At least I’m not the only one.”
S hesitated: “…”
R took a moment to take everything in: “So if you can’t remember anything, how can you tell this is a prison?”
“Like I said, I am not 100% sure this is one. You have to admit, though; These rooms sure look like cells.”
He was just about to agree when the clear sound of steps came from the direction of the door. S gasped, speaking in a hushed whisper: “Quick! Cover up the hole!” and then disappeared. R jumped to his feet, pushed the bed back into it’s original place and sat down on it, legs crossed.
The iron door opened and a single person, dressed in light armor came in. R guessed he was male, judging by his build. Just like S had said, the man didn’t say a word, neither when he entered nor when he strutted towards R who froze, back straight, staring at the mask covering the man’s face. It was hard to make out details under the hood and the general darkness of the room. The man grabbed R by the plate, eyeing it up carefully. R didn’t protest, only flinched slightly.
He took out a rope with a hook at the end. With a little
Click
the hook was set in place at the tiny ring that connected plate and choker. The man pulled at the rope, R getting up from the bed.
The hallway behind the door was long and straight, on the right half a dozen doors on either side. Each door had two letters along with four numbers engraved on exchangeable plates.
T.C. 9276
G.G. 1532
K.O. 7429
…
Rantaro x Shy!Reader x Nagito(NSFW)
V3 boys accidentally knocking up their s/o in the killing game
Rantaro with an ultimate Broadway actress s/o
Rantaro with an ultimate contortionist s/o
Rantaro with a fem! SHSL plushy maker s/o
(Valentine’s Alphabet)Z, N, K - Rantaro Amami
Rantaro w/ a s/o who has a sweet tooth
Rantaro walking into his s/o trying on his boxers
Camboy!Rantaro head-canons
Sub!Shuichi x Dom!Reader(NSFW)
V3 boys accidentally knocking up their s/o in the killing game
Shuichi x fem!reader fluff oneshot
Shuichi: Kaede and I don’t have pet names for each other.
Tsumugi: Uh huh yeah okay. Hey what do bees make?
Shuichi: Honey?
Kaede: *from the living room* Yeah babe?
Shuichi: *traps wasp under a cap*
Kokichi: *appears and sets down 2 more cups*
Kokichi: *shuffles the cups*
Shuichi: Kokichi, why?