Corruption

Снартея 1: ыце нояи

It was a death camp for those who weren't human. Or at least who didn't seem like it. Those with deformities, strange abilities, or even those who were accused of the assisting the inhuman-- all were taken and slaughtered. Torture could last years. Some there knew nothing but the inner walls of the facility. They never had the chance to experience a human life. They were prisoners from birth and death was what they were raised with. Almost everyone was numb to it. Those who were lucky, at least.

A mother held her baby to her breast. She was a human, though the abnormal coloring of her eyes suggested otherwise. The baby was completely normal, a healthy infant girl with no deformities or other inhuman qualities. Perhaps the mother could get her out. She could pay off a guard. With her body, if she had to. To keep her beautiful little girl safe. 

But that would never happen. The mother would later witness the death of her baby as she was tossed to the hounds by a laughing guard. 

One elderly couple lied huddled on a bunk. They didn't appear elderly of course, for they were what the humans called demons. The only sign of their age was the bluntness of their horns and the paleness of their eyes. At least they were together each day through the endless hours of labor and torture. They were all they had left.

But even that wouldn't last. The man would die in his sleep one night and before his lover could hold them back, the other prisoners would advance. He would be devoured in minutes, leaving a weeping and screaming widow behind.

The camp had... thrived?... for over a decade. The labor by the prisoners paid for government funding. More government funding led to more money for human schools, hospitals, and other necessities. So there was no reason, the humans thought, to stop any of it.  
 
There were millions in a single camp. The numbers fluctuated constantly but it was always too crowded. Pregant women were common; birth control was a waste of money for the government and sex was the only pleasure some prisoners could get. Babies were born daily, some alive and some not. The majority didn't live beyond a week. They were the fortunate ones. 

Others who had made it to the age where they had learned not to cry out were sometimes put into a secret bunker that had taken five years to dig out. The guards had yet to discover it, for the entrance was hidden just inside the laundry compound under four loose boards. The children were brought what food could be spared and only a limited few even knew of the bunker's existance. 

It was a fairly small space carved out of stone and packed earth with only rags as protection from the cold ground. The bunker was crowded, with twenty or so children in the eighty square foot space. They were all completely silent, humans and inhuman alike, and lived with constant hunger and fear. Each was skin and bones with weak eyes from living in the near-blackness. Not even the fire demon child had learned to use a fire, so the only light the children saw was that of the moon when they were brought food. 

A certain child, called by only the name "Blue Horn" for his single horn that pressed closely to the left side of his head, was the only one who had never spoken or cried in anyone's memory. No one was sure if he was mute, but he had been silent for years. It would be seven years in the bunker the next month, making him the oldest among the children. It also meant he was the closest to being kicked out. He was almost eight, he supposed, with only another night before he would be forced to leave. There was simply not enough room for him in the bunker anymore. But no one ever heard him complain. He understood, for that was how he had been raised. 

His thin tail swished nervously to and fro the night of his departure and the other children clung tightly to his sides. Clothes were promised to him but he had never had them before. Would they be warm? Would any guards notice that he had never been seen before? Would they torture him with sharp blades or fire as he heard in stories? Chewing his already marred lip, Blue Horn waited sleeplessly for the sound of the shifting boards above his head.

When they came, it was not a familiar face of their feeder that greeted him. An unknown, clean uniform of tan and the barrel of a gun came down the steps instead. 

There were no cries at the sight of the smiling guard. All twenty children sat on the hard ground, pressed against each other and waited, shaking and frightened. But they knew that any movement or screams would be useless. 

Some couldn't even see the guard. Their eyes had gone too far in the darkness and all their fear was given by those surrounding them. It was a mass of terrified children and lost hope. Their fortress had crumbled. 

One by one, the children were lifted out and put in a line to face a small row of three guards. One guard was dressed more elaborately than the others and smiled sweetly at the nude, shivering children. 

Blue Horn could only understand a few of the man's words and kept his chin tucked and his eyes shut. 

"You children •••• hidden •••• ••• ••••••• years," he said as Blue Horn tried to piece the words together, "••• we will •••• your •••• parents that they cannot ••••••• the ••••• •• our •••••••••."

His smile made Blue Horn sick to his stomach and the stench of his breath was toxic as he neared the children. The man snatched a girl by the hair and yanked her out of the line. She stayed quiet even as she was tossed to the ground and a gun was pointed at her head.

"Who is the parent?" the guard demanded with a crooked grin. "••••• come •••••••. I will •••• you how to •••••• our rules or else •••••• the ••••••••••••."

With an explosion, the girl's head was turned to red and grey mush on the ground. A mother in the crowd screamed. She too was shot down. The guard went to the children one by one. Most he shot. Others he put to the side. Blue Horn was put to the side along with two other boys only slightly younger than himself. One was human and the other was a demon like Blue Horn. 

The captain of the guards whispered something that the children couldn't hear. The guards nodded and grabbed the boys by their arms, dragging them without much effort. The wails of parents were left far behind them, but the echoes remained. 

The three boys were shoved into cold showers, the first in their lives. The dirt was scrubbed off roughly, leaving raw patches on their flesh. They were then forced out, wrapped in scratchy linens, and sat on hard benches outside of the captain's home on the outskirts of the camp. 

When the captain returned, the boys all exchanged nervous glances from under their long hair. Fingers were jabbed into their ribs but none tried to stop it. Every now and then, the captain would say something to the other guards. 

"•••• one horn," he said once when examining the eldest child. "But he ••••• looks stronger •••• others. I will •••• him •• a •••••••."

He looked at the other two boys. With a wave of his wrist, he breathed, "Do with them •• you ••••••."

Placing a firm hand on Blue Horn's back, the captain led the boy inside the house. 

It was unlike anything Blue Horn had ever seen. The floor was a hard wood, the wall was painted in a creamy white, paintings and vases with faux plants decorated the rooms, and medals and trophies covered rich wooden counters.

The captain snapped his fingers and a demon maid trotted to his side with a broken gleam to her violet eyes. 

"Clothe the boy," he ordered. 

The woman curtsied and took Blue Horn gingerly by the arm. He led obediently up the master stairs and into a large servants' closet. 

The maid was a pretty demon with hair the color of moonlight that hung down her back in a ribboned ponytail. Blue Horn had seen enough darkness, so the lightness of her hair was almost welcoming. Her skin was pale, though not as pale as Blue Horn himself. Her horns were a polished ivory color. Her tail had a single notch at its matching end. 

She found him clothes almost his size and helped him dress, correctly assuming he had never done it himself. They were large, but warmer than nothing: a dark, thin turtleneck and pants, a long, blue vest, boots and a leather belt. The maid went to work on combing the boy's dark hair, which hadn't been done in years, and was forced to cut out most of the knots with a small pair of scissors until it fell just below his collarbone. When he looked in a hanging mirror, Blue Horn saw himself for the first time. His left eye was narrow and dark, with no contrast between the iris and the rest. His right eye was completely human-looking and deep blue. 

"Muria," a voice called out as the door was pushed open. A human boy about the same age as Blue Horn stepped in to the servants' closet. He was dressed in clothes of rich blue and had the look of a noble. His golden-brown hair shone in thick curls. "Muria, father told me ••••• was a ••• ••••••• boy ••• me."

"Cerrin," the maid said, sweeping the fallen hair into her hand, "••••••, you •••••• not •••••• yourself with ••••••••."

The boy, Cerrin, ignored the maid and skipped to Blue Horn. His smile etched dimples into his cheeks as he asked the demon, "What's your name?"

Blue Horn wrinkled his nose at the unfamiliar, clean scent. It took him a few seconds to reply. 

"Blue Horn."

Cerrin laughed. "Is that it? I don't •••• that name. I'll •••• you Neibi."

Blue Horn nodded. It wasn't like he cared. The human boy took his hand and tugged him out of the room. 

"You will play with me," the blonde said. "I have •••• in my room."

The child was forceful, but nice. His room was larger than the entire childrens' bunker Blue Horn had previously been in. Cerrin opened a large chest at the foot of his bed, pulling out figurines and blocks. Blue Horn couldn't remember ever playing with toys, but he took to it quickly like any child would. Cerrin continued to talk and didn't seem to mind when Blue Horn couldn't understand him. 

"Neibi," he said, "I •••• you to be my ••••••• •••. I didn't •••• ••• of the •••••••. And my father didn't •••• them ••••••. You'll be here •••••••, right?"

Blue Horn nodded out of habit, but the look in Cerrin's eyes made him feel like there was nothing to worry about. That he had found somewhere out of the darkness. Out of fear. And out of crowded lonliness. 

********

Ten more years went by. Neibi, who had all but forgotton his old name, was still a servant in the Captain's household. His only job was to follow the needs of Cerrin, a task he had never minded. When the boys had grown out of their years playing with toys, they shared interests in books and swimming in the mansion's pool. Neibi had mostly dismissed the memories of the outside. The only clue to the inferiority of demons was the beatings the staff occassionally endured from the Captain. But all but the new servants were used to it.

"Neibi," Cerrin sighed one day as he was served his morning tea in bed, "I want to do something fun today."

He wrapped his arms around Neibi's neck and pulled him down to the bed. Neibi had become used to the occurance and quickly set the tea cup down before it was spilled. A warm face nestled in the crook of his neck and he smiled. Curls tickled his cheek. 

"What do you want to do?" the blonde asked playfully, tickling his friend's neck with his breath. "Swim? Chess? My, everything sounds so boring..."

Neibi pulled away and continued to pour the tea, handing the cup to his master. 

"Oh, come on Neibi. I know you don't want to sit around all day. We could... play hide-and-seek?"

Neibi chuckled. It was just like Cerrin to be so childish. They hadn't played that game in years. 

"Let's play in the garden," Cerrin suggested. "It's beautiful outside."

Neibi smiled and went to the wardrobe. He pulled out an outdoor pair of clothes for Cerrin as his answer. Cerrin jumped up and placed a kiss on the brunette's cheek, earning a blush from the demon. The pair had been good friends since the day they met, but lately it was becoming more than that. Neibi felt his heart skip everytime Cerrin did so much as say his name. But things had to be kept secret due to Cerrin's father. It wasn't so much that Neibi was male, it was that he was a demon. A pest to the rest of the world. 

Cerrin never acted as though he cared. He'd sneak sweet kisses every now and again. And what kind of servant would Neibi be if he refused his master? The two had never spoken of their relationship out loud. There were no "I love you"s. There was nothing beyond a short kiss. They held themselves back. 

Cerrin dressed and rushed down the mansion stairs with Neibi swiftly behind. The blonde was right; it was beautiful out. In the middle of spring, the flowers were all blooming at full potential, filling the air with a sweet fragrance that hid the nearby stench of burning bodies. The sky was a rich blue with a few whispy, scattered clouds. 

Cerrin turned around and, with a peck on the lips, laughed, "You're it!"

Neibi sighed and turned his back so he could count quietly in his head. Twenty seconds passed until the demon stopped counting and raced down the garden paths to find Cerrin. The blonde was usually good at hiding, but never good enough to stay hidden for long. 

A pull to the tail sent Neibi reeling back. He landed hard and wriggler in protest as arms wrapped under his to pull him into the bushes. He heard Cerrin laugh in his ear. 

Neibi turned around to glare. It didn't last when Cerrin pressed his lips against his and held on tight. Suddenly, hands were exploring in his shirt and he found his own hands tangled in the curls of blonde, pulling his master as close as he could. His mind was muddled with heat. His tail wrapped subconsciously around Cerrin's leg as the blonde rolled on top. They pulled apart for air and Cerrin grinned, laying down beside the baffled Neibi and resting his head in the crook of his arm. 

"Sorry," he said with a smug smile, "I couldn't help myself."

Neibi huffed.

Cerrin snuggled in closer and exhaled slowly. His voice lowered to a whisper. 

"I love you."

For a long moment, Neibi forgot to breathe. His stomach churned, but he couldn't tell if it was from fear or happiness. It would be taboo to love his human master. But he did. And his master loved him too. It would be worth the risk. 

They stayed in the garden for hours, ignoring the sounds of people moving in and out of the mansion. They were well hidden in the bushes. Neibi listened to Cerrin talk and they remained in complete happiness past lunch, past supper, and past the sunset. Eventually, Neibi insisted they go inside. When he looked over, Cerrin was asleep. Gathering the blonde in his arms, he stumbled to his feet and went back to the mansion. 

The rest of the mansion had already retired. The servants had gone to their quarters in the building outside.

Neibi carried Cerrin up to his room and set him gently on the bed. Brushing a kiss against the blonde's forehead, Neibi pulled the sheets up and left.

The air outside was still warm out front. The smell from the garden was no longer present, so the stench of blood and fire clogged the air. And it was extremely fresh. But that was normal. Even in his slice of paradise, Neibi knew what happened outside the mansion gates. He slipped into the servants' quarters and into his bunk. The smile remained on his face and his heart fluttered so wildly he could barely drift to sleep. 

********

Shattering glass broke the demon's dreams. The bunks around him were empty and a shout echoed from the direction of the mansion. The familiar blast of a gun finally rattled Neibi out of the bunk. He sprinted to the mansion and saw a group of demons surrounding the main door. Pushing past, he ran up the stairs to Cerrin's room. 

Demons were rushing through the halls and doors. They paid Neibi no mind as he shoved them aside, fury and fear boiling in his veins. His paradise was being torn apart piece by piece and each step he took took forever. 

The door to Cerrin's room was wide open and blood-covered footprints littered the entryway. It was dark and the stench of blood was thick. Neibi ran to the bed and felt for Cerrin. Warm moisture touched his hand and he flicked on the bedside light. Cerrin was on the bed, covered in the dark crimson. His eyes were frozen in fear and surprise and his mouth hung open. 

With a wail, Neibi pulled the corpse to his chest and closed the eyes. The demons had revolted. They had slaughtered the only person he could ever love. All for the name of revenge. They weren't any better than the humans that murdered the innocent. Neibi kissed Cerrin's forehead through his tears and shook. 

Too soon was his pardise ripped away. Now there was no point to anything. Some part of his wished he could have stayed in the childrens' bunker, hidden away in darkness. A heart that never knew love could never be broken. 

The sounds of gunshot burst through the mansion. Neibi didn't hear it; or rather, he couldn't process it. Human guards came through the doorway and poised their guns at Neibi's skull. He clutched harder and closed his eyes as tight as he could, waiting for the eternal darkness. An arm ripped him off of the bed and he screamed when Cerrin hit the ground limply.

The base of a gun hit him squarely on the base of his skull and white spots flooded his vision. Someone yanked him up to his knees by the hair and he met the cold eyes of the Captain. 

"You demon son of a bitch," the man sneered. "You killed my son."

A sharp kick to the jaw sent Neibi back and blood poured from his mouth. Another blow to his ribs sounded a crack. One more broke another rib. 

"I will personally kill every piece of demon scum that has entered my home," the Captain growled, "starting with you."

Neibi choked on his blood. He would rather be dead now anyways. He would kill himself if the Captain didn't. With a glare, the demon kicked out, but his leg was caught by a guard and twisted roughly. He was flipped onto his stomach. With a final look at Cerrin, he closed his eyes for the last time. His love was the last thing he ever wanted to see. 

"I love you too," he whispered, angry at himself for never being able to say it when Cerrin's heart was still beating. 

Then the relief of death met the demon with a numbing blast of the Captain's pistol.