Sawyer was crouched in the corner, trying to block out the screams and the sickening stench of blood. He was terrified and had no clue as to what was happening. Most of the others in the barracks were dead-eyed and slow already. They had lost their hope long ago, and simply ignored the screams from above. Keran, the leader of the Black Wolves, had a taste for torture so the scent of blood and rot had seeped into the walls. The miasma and sounds, as well as knowledge of their source, had driven Sawyer into the corner, shaking. 

He was still new in the guild, taken in by the Wolves after they razed his town. They tagged him, and then left him with the other new recruits. After a while, they started taking him on raids. He had to help them. Those who didn't pull their weight were treated harshly or even punished by the guild. So he scouted towns, torched buildings, and lured people into traps. He got less and less sleep. He grew to look like the other children, his skin pale and eyes glazed. He still couldn’t stand the sounds, the smell, his own actions. He was terrified of the guild leader. Keran loved summoning the younger guild members, the dogs, to test his knives, especially when they were new and he was bored. It was no surprise when one of them didn’t wake in the morning. Sawyer had seen the kids who’d come back from Keran. He’d also seen the bodies of the ones who didn’t, rotting in the alleyway behind the buildings. Sawyer was kept awake at the thought of this and the fear that he might be next. He wondered if it would be such a bad thing compared to the barracks and the raids.

Keran eventually called for Sawyer. The child was escorted, almost dragged, to guildmaster’s chamber by a couple of the Wolves. The Wolves stopped just outside of a pair of closed doors. They opened them and pushed Sawyer into a dimly lit room. The doors closed behind him with a soft click. Sawyer couldn’t see very well and stood trembling. There was a quiet, slow dripping sound as his eyes adjusted. The boy backed away suddenly, hitting the door. 

Things were coming into focus. The room was large, cold, and sparsely furnished, with concrete floors and bare rafters. The watery light came from thin windows high on the walls. And the dripping came from the person chained and hanging in front of Keran, illuminated by the windows. It was a girl who looked to be around ten, about the same age as Sawyer. Her wrists were raw and bleeding from the manacles and chains that suspended her. Her arms were wrenched up and her shoulders and ribs were black with bruising after hours of hanging. She had cuts everywhere except her face and throat, blood soaking into her clothing and slowly dripping onto the ground. She was crying, but made little sound. Sawyer could only stare with wide eyes. Behind her, Keran sat in a simple but elegant wooden throne, playing with a butterfly knife and looking at Sawyer. He seemed almost bored.

The guildmaster painted on a smile and beckoned. Sawyer couldn’t move. The shaking grew worse. Keran’s smile grew wider and he flipped the knife closed.

“Come here,” he called, voice smooth and pleasant. Sawyer started. He stumbled to the throne on wobbly legs. The hanging girl let out a soft cry as he walked by and he flinched. “Shhh,” Keran hushed her, then turned his pale green eyes onto Sawyer once more as the girl quieted. The boy stopped a few feet from the throne and knelt, feeling blood seep into the knees of his pants as he hit the ground. The girl was right behind him. Keran’s smile looked kind. “Come here, child. I don’t bite,” the guildmaster murmured. Sawyer wasn't convinced but there was nothing he could do.

The boy unsteadily got to his feet and closed the last of the distance between them and stood before Keran. The green eyed young man looked at him. Sawyer held dead still as a hand reached out and touched his face. A moment passed.

“You’re such an adorable child,” Keran said, tapping him lightly on the nose before withdrawing his hand. “What do you think of the decorations?”

Sawyer felt sick. He was silent and the replied timidly, “They’re… ah… nice, s-sir.” He was trembling, fear making him dizzy.

Keran gently took the boy’s hand, running his thumb over the pale fingers. He stood. Standing, Keran was close to six feet tall, towering over Sawyer. Still holding Sawyer’s hand, Keran flicked the butterfly knife open. Upon seeing the blade, Sawyer’s eyes widened and he tried to pull away. Keran grinned and didn’t let go. Keran did not bring the blade any closer to the child. Instead, he gently pulled the boy away from the chair and the hanging girl, back towards the doors which he’d entered from. It looked almost as if Keran intended to escort the boy back to the barracks. 

They reached the doors without incident, though Sawyer remained on edge. Keran reached for the doorknob but stopped, suddenly. “You have so much potential, you know,” he whispered. There was something strange in his tone and Sawyer looked up at him quizzically before recalling that one doesn’t look the guild leader in the eye. The guildmaster sighed, seeming resigned.

In a quick, smooth motion, like that of a snake, keran stabbed the knife into Sawyer’s right eye. Sawyer fell, the handle of the knife protruding from the ruin of his eye. Keran looked down at him impassively, no longer smiling. The child writhed in pain, wailing in agony. The guild leader sighed, removed his knife from Sawyer’s eye socket, and walked back to his throne with decisive movements.

“Hey!” he shouted over the cacophony, sitting once more. “Take him away!”

Some guild members entered shortly after Keran’s call. They picked up the boy, whose screaming had been reduced to a thin, reedy keening, his voice too hoarse to truly scream any longer. Keran motioned them over and gave them instructions for the boy’s care, then waved them off with a disgusted look at Sawyer.

Keran sat with an annoyed look on his face, twirling the knife and watching the girl. After a little while, he got up and began unchaining her, muttering as he worked.

"What a let down... there was so much potential there, he could have been so great!" Keran's voice rose to a shout and the girl flinched. He stopped waiting until his breathing evened out and his hands were steady again. "He was too timid though... he will serve as a good example to those bolder than him though, keep them out of my hair..."

The girl collapsed to the ground as the last of her chains fell away, whimpering softly, and as the last of Keran's words faded into silence. He stared at the child with blind eyes, lost in his own thoughts.