His Sodier

Chapter 1

*Jamie's POV*

I sit in my "room", listening to the commotion going on outside the door.

My "room" was nothing more than a cell with slate grey walls, no widow, and an operating table serving as a bed with thin yellowed sheets splayed across.

Suddenly, there's loud, booming bangs that echo and cause my ears to ring. I scream in fright and back away into a corner. I huddle in the corner, head on my knees with my hands clasped firmly over my ears and my eyes screwed shut for at least thirty minutes before the frightening noises finally stop.

With no warning, my door is ripped open, allowing bright light to blind me and further terrifying me. I scream once again, tears of fear flooding down my face.

I hear a gasp come from the doorway. I look up to find a metal...thing standing in the center of the bright light. The faceplate of the metal humanoid slides away to reveil a man who's face screams with concern and horror as he looks at me.

And who can really blame him? I'm wearing what could be classified as tattered yellowed rags as clothes and thin, barely-there slippers.

The man steps forward and I automatically whimper and shrink back.

"Hey, it's okay." The man soothes, holding up his hands. "I'm not gonna hurt you."

I look at him doubtfully before examining the white circles in the center of his hands which seem to be some form of weapon. And they're pointed right at me.

I cry out in fear and try to huddle closer to the wall, but fail.

The man follows my petrified gaze to his hands and seems to understand.

"Okay. Hang on." He says.

Slowly he puts his hands down. Suddenly, the suit of metal removes itself from him, allowing me to fully see him. I look up at him, still fearful.

"I'm not gonna hurt you, sweetheart." The man whispers inching closer.

I involuntarily whimper even though I believe him. I continue to whimper until he's right in front of me.

He kneels down so that he's level with me. He slowly shifts my hair out of my face, his eyes boring into mine.

"You wanna get out of this place?" He asks.

Not trusting my voice to work, I nod vigorously.

He chuckles lightly, the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Alright." He says.

He stands back up and holds out his hand to me. I grip it lightly, allowing him to pull me to my feet. I try to take a step but my vision blurs as I tilt forward into his chest.

"Whoa, easy." He says, supporting me. "When's the last time you ate or drank anything?"

I shrug my shoulders, unable to remember that far back.

He shakes his head and sighs. I suddenly feel guilty for not being able to answer his question and begin to cry.

"Oh, hey. Shhhh." He cooes, wiping my tears away. "Man, they've really done a number on you, haven't they?"

Before I'm able to even try and understand what that means, he scoops me up carefully and carries my out of the cell that I've called home my whole life.