Dashiell woke up when he felt someone shaking his shoulder. His eyes flew open and he sat up and pressed himself against the wall again. His body was protesting his movements and he wanted to scream from the pain.
“No!” he yelled while shaking his head violently. “Please! Not again!” Tears were running down his cheeks and his whole body was shaking. He didn't look at the man touching him. He kept his eyes closed. He couldn't look Eudon in the eyes again. He couldn’t go through this again, not now. It was still hurting too much.
“Hey,” a kind voice said, and he felt a hand on his shoulder. “I'm not here to hurt you.” Dashiell opened his eyes and looked into the kind blue eyes. Averet. “I'm not going to hurt you, okay?” Dashiell nodded. Averet scanned his body and anger flashed in his eyes when he looked down at where the blanket had slipped away. Dashiell hadn't had the strength to pull his pants on again. He'd just pulled the blanket over him to cover himself up.
“Did Eudon do this to you?” Averet asked through gritted teeth.
Dashiell didn't answer, he just tried to avoid Averet's gaze. He didn't want to tell him, because he knew that Eudon would want revenge on him if he did. Averet laid a pale hand on his leg and smiled at him but Dashiell flinched away from him.
“Please,” Dashiell begged. “Please, just don't touch me.”
“Sorry! I didn't mean to scare you,” he held his hands up in surrender. Dashiell just nodded. “Your name is Dashiell, right?” he asked.
“Yes,” he whispered.
“Dashiell, no one is going to hurt you again, okay?” he said.
“I promise… I don't know anything. I just want to go home.” Dashiell said as he began to cry again.
“I know. I believe you.”
“Then let me go!” he sobbed. “Please!”
“I can't do that. I'm sorry. The prince needs you.” Dashiell looked up at him. The prince? He thought to himself. Why would the prince need someone like him? Unless…
“Why would he need me? I bet there are better people out there to fuck,” he mumbled. “I can't go through it again. Not now. It still hurts too much.”
“The prince doesn't want to fuck you, Dashiell.” Averet said raising an eyebrow at him “The man that bought you three days ago, he's a threat to the crown. The prince needs some information.”
“But I told you,” Dashiell looked at Averet, defeated and devastated, “I don't know anything.”
“I know, but Barret enjoyed your company. He came back to the brothel, asking for you.” Averet said. “The prince wants you to sleep with him, win his trust, and make him talk and then kill him!”
Kill him? I’m not a killer. I can’t even fight. No, I’m not doing that!
“Are you kidding me?” Dashiell said with an ironic laugh, while the tears were still running down his face. “Our dear prince wants me to whore myself to someone… to kill someone, so he can benefit from it?” he spat. He was scared and sad, but the anger was taking over. He never liked the prince. In fact, he hated that sonofabitch. That stuck-up, spoiled, piece of shit who never had to work for anything in his life, who didn't care that people like Dashiell had to sell themselves on the street to survive. That kids had to whore themselves out to old, disgusting men with insane fantasies, so they could put food on the table for their younger siblings. The prince doesn’t care about anything but himself.
“We believe that Barret is the mind behind the two latest assassination attempts on the crown prince,” Averet explained. “The last one came too close. We need to know when it'll happen again.”
“I don't care about the prince! He can rot in hell for all I care!” Dashiell yelled. Did he go through all this pain and humiliation because of the prince? He was not going to help him. Averet looked angry and before he could open his mouth again, he slapped him across the face.
“Don't talk about his highness that way!” he snapped.
“Why? Because it's true!” Dashiell said, touching his cheek. “Why should I do anything for him? You tortured me. Raped me… because he asked you to. I'm not going to help you!”
“We didn't torture you, Dashiell,” Averet said. “And the prince would never order someone to rape a prisoner!”
“Such a gentleman then. Guess what? It still happened” Dashiell mumbled. “I'm not going to help him. He can go and whore himself out.”
“You don't have a choice,” Averet said and stood up.
“Really? What are you going to do? Keep me here? Let Eudon do what he wants to with me? Execute me?” Dashiell yelled. “Do whatever the fuck you want with me! I'm not helping him!”
“Dashiell, you don't have a choice! I don't want you to get hurt anymore, but I can't protect you if you won't work with me.”
“Protect me?” he laughed, “where were you when your friend fucked me?”
“I didn't know he would do that!”
“Right,” Dashiell said. “You had no idea that he was such an asshole… You know what! If the prince wants my help, he can beg for it himself!”
“You're making a mistake.” Averet looked around the cell and went over to pick up Dashiell's pants. He threw them on the bench and went out of the cell, locking the bars after him.
“Just… just think about it,” he continued before walking away.
“I'm not going to do it,” Dashiell mumbled to himself.
Dashiell felt more lost than ever. His life has always been a struggle. He might only be 24, but he’d been through more pain than most people. He'd begged them to let him go, so he could go home. He just never told them that that place didn't exist. He had no home, no friends, and no family. He always depended on the clients, to give him a place to stay for the night. He wasn't allowed to sleep in the brothel, since they needed all the rooms clear, for those who'd bring their client back with them or if the client didn't want to rent a room at the inn. He hated those people. They were willing to pay to fuck you, but they'd rather do it on the streets, than use some money to get a room. Dashiell had had a lot of those. Sometimes they’d be so horrible. They would push him into an alleyway, press him up against the wall and fuck him. Those were often a bit violent too. They would be rough, bite his neck hard enough to draw blood, press his head so hard against the stone walls that it scraped his face and rip his hair from his head. But he would always let them do it. For the money. He needed food; and to buy that, he needed money. He had tried stealing once, but he didn't like it. His conscience couldn't take it, he'd rather let someone use his body than steal from someone who worked hard for their food.
Dashiell was always popular at the brothel. He was good looking, and he knew it. He was thin, tan, and looked younger than he was, which a lot of men enjoyed. His hair was dark brown, almost black and it was a little bit too long, so it always fell down into his unmatched eyes, but his clients liked it because there was something to grab ahold of. He wasn't overly tall, so he always had to look up whenever someone wanted to kiss him. He liked it that way, he liked feeling smaller than them.
Averet didn't come to see him again. Instead, the third guard that had been in the cell with Averet and Eudon, was keeping an eye on him. He was extremely tall; Dashiell would just barely reach his broad shoulder. The guard’s hair was a shade lighter than his own and his skin was a smooth, unblemished tan. He never really said anything. He just stood outside his cell, making sure that Dashiell didn't try to escape. It didn't make much sense to Dashiell since he couldn't imagine how to get out of this shithole anyway.
He was beginning to feel restless. He needed something to do. He needed to get outside and see the sun and breath some fresh air.
His body was still in pain, but he ignored it as he stood up and walked over towards the bars.
“Hey!” he said to the guard. “Would it be possible to go outside for a bit?”
“No,” the guard said.
“Why?”
“You're a prisoner here. You are not allowed to leave the cell.”
“But I haven't done anything wrong!” Dashiell yelled. “You can't just keep me here when I haven't done anything!”
“It's the order from the prince. You will stay in this cell.”
“You've got to be kidding me,” Dashiell mumbled to himself. “How long have I been here?”
“Six days.”
It feels like longer he thought, but he didn't say it out loud.
“What's your name?”
“Erat,” he answered.
“Well, Erat! Nice to meet you,” he said, “I'm Dashiell.”
“I know who you are,” Erat said.
“Not much of a talker, are you?”
“No.”
“Heavens!” He sighed. “Look, why are you even here? It's not like I have a chance to escape.”
“Averet told me to keep an eye on you,” Erat mumbled.
“Averet? Why?” Dashiell asked, but he never got an answer. Erat didn't talk to him again for the rest of his shift.
The next guard didn't even want to tell him his name, so Dashiell didn't bother to make him talk.
He waited for Averet to come back so he could yell at him. He was the captain; he should be able to let him out. They all knew that he refused to work for their stupid prince, so there was absolutely no reason for them to keep him here. He was pacing back and forth in his cell. He couldn't sit still anymore. The lack of fresh air and sunshine was driving him crazy. He was walking around while talking to himself. He couldn't stand the silence any longer.
“Would you mind shutting up in there.” Erat sighed. He was standing in front of the cell, arms crossed over his broad chest, annoyance flashing in his hazel eyes.
“I can't,” Dashiell said while continuing pacing back and forth.
“You can't?” Erat repeated.
“I'm locked in a fucking cell, with nothing to do! It's driving me crazy!” he yelled
“Well then, go crazy a little bit more silently. I'm trying to read out here.”
“You're kidding me, right?” Dashiell yelled. “How would you feel if you were held prisoner in a fucking cell for days?”
“I'm forced to be down here with you,” he shrugged. “So I know how it feels.”
“But not 24 hours a day! You can leave whenever you want! You get to go outside. You get to do something… I don't! So don't you dare tell me, that you know how it feels!”
“Look, you've been here for little over a week. So, relax! We gave you a choice. If you take the deal, then you can walk out of here, a free man.”
“No, I can't! I won't be free, you'll send me out to sell myself - to become a killer because the prince is too scared to do it!” he yelled and slammed his fist against the bars.
“You were going to whore yourself out anyway.”
“That's not the point.” He sighed. “And who says I will do that again? Maybe I have found another way to earn money.”
“You and I both know that you haven't,” he said, rubbing his eyes. “Look, the prince would be willing to pay you a lot of money if you accepted the proposal. It could get you off the streets for good.”
“Oh wow! What a noble thing to do! I don't want his fucking money! I don't want anything to do with him! Why don't you get that? Find someone else to do the job for you!”
“We can't! Barret is only interested in you!”
“Could you just ask Averet to get down here?”
“No.” And that was it. It wasn't up for discussion. Erat went back to his book and Dashiell was left to himself once again.
The only positive thing was that the fear was gone. He wasn't afraid anymore, just angry.
Why did Barret have to choose him? Someone else would absolutely be willing to make the deal and help the stuck-up princeling.
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