Birthright

CHAPTER TEN

(The next few chapters are already written, so I'll be uploading faster. PLEASE don't forget to vote/comment! Also, it'll be a while before Kray and Alex meet again, but stick around for it. It'll be good. :) )

Chilling cold crept into Kray's body, invading his joints and muscles until every inch of him hurt. Goosebumps covered his naked arms and chest. He knew that he was shirtless because his skin burned from the frigid air enveloping his exposed flesh.

Cold. It was too cold.

His shoulders quivered when he tried to lift himself on weak elbows, turning over onto his back on the hard, narrow surface beneath him. And then he heard a voice.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Kray opened his eyes and flinched at the piercing light. Squinting, his gaze flickered in all directions as he tried to locate the source of the voice. But all he could see was encompassing whiteness.

"You'll feel better soon," the person called out. "Be strong."

"Not that it will do you any good," another disembodied—but distinctly sarcastic—voice muttered.

"Heru, Ork," a third voice joined the discussion, this one closer to Kray than the others. "Enough with the bitterness."

A loud snort, followed by, "I'm not going to pretend to be happy each time a kid is dumped here."

"Then shut up."

Trying to follow their chatter was making Kray's head hurt. "The lights . . . ."

"The lights?"

"The lights . . . are . . . ." He forgot what he was trying to say. Instead, he sank deeper into his disorientation, and his senses abandoned him again.

It was a long time before the numbing coldness retreated from his body. Even though he continued to shiver uncontrollably, he could finally think coherently.

They were still speaking, but something was different—he could no longer understand them. His bewilderment faded as he realized that they weren't speaking in English. The foreign words were strangely lyrical, rolling over him in soft waves. For a full minute, he lay there quietly and listened to them.

As he did so, his eyes focused on the ceiling; the brilliant light was right above him. His stiff muscles protested when he struggled to sit upright.

A quick look around revealed that his bed was in the center of a small cell. The head of the metal-framed bed pressed against the back wall, and to his right stood a concrete wall. But the other two sides of his cell were made of clear glass.

There were two other cells to his left and three across from him. And all of them were occupied; a shirtless, unmoving figure lay on the bed to his left, his back facing Kray. Judging by the steady rise and fall of his shoulders, he was asleep.

The boy across from him noticed his movements and he stopped talking to his neighbor, a grin breaking across his tanned face. Kray stared at the two metal, button-sized circles underneath his ribs. "Thirty minutes! Shane, looks like you were right about him. Hey, Shane! The new guy's been out only half an hour!"

The sleeping figure fidgeted and then sat up, swinging his legs off the bed. His skin was light brown and his black hair shaved close to his skull. He had the same metallic rings on his torso. Kray realized with a sick feeling that they protruded out of the skin. "I told you he looked tough," he said. "He'll walk out of here, no doubt."

It seemed as though having a clear mind didn't make it any easier to understand their conversation. "What are you talking about? Where am I? And who are you?"