The dark, dank prison reeked of mold and mildew. A cold breeze ran through the cells, and a teenage boy hugged his legs for warmth. Water dripped from somewhere within the prison, drip, drip, drip. 

Creak! The boy flinched. Footsteps bounced off the walls. An elderly woman with the number one tattooed to her neck shoved a kid into one of the cells. A bandage peeked out from behind the kid's short blond hair.

As the older woman left, the teenage boy sat up straight, revealing an eight tattooed on his neck. As the prison door creaked shut, the teen stood to his feet. He squinted through the darkness to better see the new flesh. “Hey, you,” he called out. The person in the other cell turned away. “What number did you get?” The kid placed their hand over the bandage, “They told you not to talk to me, didn’t they? All the others say it’s much better here than outside with the undead.” The blond kid curled into a small ball, “They are lying. I refuse to be a slave in this mansion.” The teen touched a bandage on his arm. Dried blood coated the off-white material. 

The blond teen peeked over their shoulder, “Does it hurt?” They asked sheepishly.

“It’s the worst.” The boy's arm throbbed as he released his grip. "They don’t give me pain meds or anything.” He let out an exaggerated sigh. “I’m Eights, by the way. It’s almost like my parents knew I would end up here with an eight tattoo.” A laugh boomed from Eight's lips, followed by an angry groan. “Oh,” Eights lowered his voice, “That was Twelve. He’s been here longer than anyone. He hasn’t been feeling well lately, so we need to keep our voices down.”

The prison door creaked open once more. Eight’s eyes widened, and he shuffled to the corner of his cell. Two men approached the cell. “Are you going to give us trouble this time?” The older man with a ten tattooed on his neck asked.

“Please don’t fight us this time, kid. The Twelve will never let you out of here if you do.” The second man gripped a gun in his hand. He turned his head to ten, revealing a six tattooed on his neck. “Do we have to shoot him?”

Eights bared his teeth at the two men. Ten shook the cell door, creating a loud bang. “Just shoot him. He prefers that way anyways.”

“That’s right!” Eights yelled. It’s not like I’ll go with you willingly anyway.”

Six exhaled loudly, “You did this to yourself?” In a swift movement, Six raised the gun. Pap, a dart hit Eights in the arm, and the world grew dark as Eights plummeted to the floor.

Muffled sobs filled the prison as Eights was dragged from his cell.

A day passed before Eights awoke. He groggily rubbed the sleep from his eyes. He protected his wounded arm as he rose from the bed. “Good morning, Twelve. Good morning, whatever your name is.”

Eights squinted at the kid through the darkness. They slowly rose from their bed while stretching their arms to the sky.

“Good morning, Nine.”

Nine’s hand shot to their neck. “My bandage fell off. Do you think they will give me another one?”

“Probably not. The other numbered don’t care much for us in the prison.” Eights rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, maybe Six does, but not much.” The two sat silently, and the dark, damp, dripping cells grew cold. “So, did they come to get you after they tortured me?” Eights observed his arms. New bandages were covering his old wound, and his new wound had a blood-soaked bandage covering it.

“No, I didn’t see them again after they brought you back.”

“That’s strange. All numbers are supposed to have skin taken from them no matter what. When I was a newbie, they brought me to get flesh taken my very first day.”

“That’s horrible.”

“Count yourself lucky that they forgot.”

Nine inched closer to the cell door. They gently placed a hand on the bars, “Can I ask a question?”

“Ask anything you want.”

“Why are some of the- um- the numbered allowed to walk around the mansion?”

“They cooperate with The Twelve. They do chores and willingly let The Twelve take their skin. So they are allowed some freedom. But, I refuse to work for those rotten zoms.” 

“T-the Twelve? I always thought they were a myth. Something adults tell you to keep you in line.”

“I thought the same before I got here.” Eights moved closer to the cell door. He examined Nine’s face momentarily, “Do you want to hear my theory on The Twelve?” Nine bowed his head. Eights glanced down the hall, then cupped his hands around his mouth. “I think it is their fault that zombies exist.” Nine’s mouth dropped open, “Whenever I told anyone this theory in the past, The Twelve would have me whipped.”

Nine flinched, “Why are you telling me then? What if they whip you again?”

Eights grinned toothly, “You’re a nice kid. There’s nothing to worry about; I haven’t been whipped in years. I think The Twelve realized they can’t control what I say.” 

“Can The Twelve really talk? And they don’t eat people?”

“I think they have the urge to eat people. Instead, they take the skin of twelve people and clone it for food.”

“Clone? Like what people did in the past? How is that possible?”

“Heck if I know. The Twelve just put it into a machine; then, like magic, there is more. Jerks can do that, but they can’t heal us numbered. Fuck, I would do whatever they wanted if they at least gave us something for the pain.”

“Is that why you resist?”

“No, well, that too, I guess. Mainly, I resist because I’m just a bag of flesh to them.”

“Maybe I’ll resist too, then.” 

“It’s much better that way. When you resist, they shoot you with a tranquilizer, and you don’t have to feel the pain of them taking skin from you.”

“I’ll do that then.”

Light poured into the prison, and a loud creaking drowned out the constant dripping. “Breakfast time,” a metallic tray hit the floor. “Wake up, Twelve. You don’t want mice eatting your food again, do you?” Nin rushed to the corner of their cell.

A loud growl echoed throughout the prison, and Eights gripped tightly to his cell bars, “Twelve? Is Twelve okay?”

“Shit, I guess the old man bit it in his sleep.”

Eights’ knees hit the concrete floor. Footsteps moved closer to his cage. “Sorry, kid, I know you liked him.” Eights’ hands fell to his sides, and the teen hunched over, watching the damp floor wet his only pair of pants. 

Six placed a tray under the bars of Eights’ cell. “He was my only friend.”

Six’s footsteps faded. “Are you okay,” Nine looked at Eights with concern. The prison darkened as daylight faded. Eights slammed his fists to the concrete floor. A low growl echoed throughout the prison, and a stifled sob escaped from between Eights’ lips.

Nine’s stomach gurgled. They looked around to find that Six had left without giving them food. So they sat and listened to the growling Twelve, the sobbing Eights, and the endless dripping, drip, drip.

Nine’s rumbling stomach caught Eights’ attention, and he lifted his head, “Quiet that chainsaw, will you?” A weak chuckle escaped from the teen.

“Are you okay?” Nine glanced at the boy. “It’s hard when you lose someone.”

Chittering sounds interrupted Nine, and Eights quickly jumped to his feet and darted to the food tray. “Quickly, pick up your food before the rats reach it.”

“Ah!” Nine looked across the hall. “I guess that guy forgot to bring me some.”

Eights clutched his food tray tightly, “I don’t mind sharing with you.”

“It’s okay, really. I’ll wait until dinner.” Nine’s chainsaw erupted once more.

Eights snorted, “I’ll share with you. It’s the least I can do for you.”

“I really couldn’t,” Eights scrunched his nose as a deep frown formed on his face. “W-well, if you insist, but make sure to eat your fill.”

Eights smiled at Nine before taking a bite of the food. He ate about half of what was on the plate before sliding it across the hall. Nine ate the rest with vigor. 

Time passed, and the door creaked open again, reprieving the two from the ever-continuous dripping. “Hey, Eights,” the bellowing voice called out from down the hall. Ten and Six stood before Eights’ cell once more.

 Six spared no time; he raised the gun and pulled the trigger all in one motion. “Sorry, kid, our quota for flesh was off. We got to take extra from someone, and the group chose you.”

“Assholes,” Eights fell to the floor.

Nine grabbed the bars to his cell. They slipped down, and their whole body trembled, “Wait! Take me instead. I didn’t give flesh yesterday.” The two men carried Eights out of the prison, ignoring Nine’s pleas. 

Nine slid to the ground, and tears ran down their cheeks, and in a softer voice, he whispered, “Take someone else, you jerks.”

“Eights! Eights, are you okay?” Eights rose from the hard bed, “Eights!”

“Shut up. It feels like my head is split in two.” Eights rubbed his temples.

“Thank goodness you are awake. You’ve been asleep for a whole day.” Nine’s voice was thin and raspy.

“Have you been calling me this entire time?”

“Not this entire time. When the other numbered bring you food, I call for them, but they don’t seem to be able to hear me.”

“They can’t hear you?”

“No, it’s like they forgot I exist. I haven’t gotten food from them or anything.” 

Eights jumped out of the bed. He staggered slightly as he made his way to the cell door. “You can get us out of here.”

“What do you mean?” Nine’s voice shook.

“The next time they come here, I’ll ask them to open your cell window for fresh air. Six does that for me occasionally. Then, when he enters your cell, leave and follow Six out of the prison.”

“I don’t know. The lady who brought me here could see me.” 

“That’s true. Why’d that happen?”

Nine tapped their chin. Their eyes drifted to the ceiling. Suddenly, they slammed a fist into their other hand, “Maybe because she was holding my arm.”

“So you think if you don’t touch Six, he won’t be able to see you?”

Nine shrugged their shoulders, “maybe.”

Eights and Nine waited patiently until dinner time rolled around. Seconds passed as the water continued to drip, drip, drip.

Creeeak! The door opened, and Eights’ heart beat loudly. His hands trembled, and he popped to his feet, awaiting his great escape.

Nine moved slowly to the corner of his cell as the footsteps abruptly stopped. “Dinner time.” Six announced.

A tray slid under Eights’ door, and Six began to walk away. “Wait, Six,” Eights’ voice croaked, “Can you open the window for me? I need some fresh air.”

 The man shuffled back and unlocked Nine’s cell. Six passed by Nine, heading for the small window. Eights waved his arms, and Nine’s face turned red. They looked at Eights in desperation. Nine shook their head back and forth. Eights swung his arms violently, pointing at Nine’s escape, and Nine shook their head once more.

“Go!”

Six spun around, looking around the cell, “Who are you talking to?”

“Oh! I changed my mind. You don’t have to open the window.” Eights tilted his head to the side, signaling Nine to go.

Nine slipped through the cell door right before Six. Tiptoeing backward, Nine clumsily maneuvered around the man. Eights cupped his mouth with his hands, “follow him,” he whispered.

Nine skulked down the hall. Six fumbled with his keys to unlock the large metal door. It opened with a loud creak. Nine slipped past Six, exiting the prison. They let out a sigh of relief.

Six observed where Nine was standing for a minute. Nine’s eyes widened, and their breath caught in their throat. Keys jingled, and Six scanned the room once more, “I thought I heard something.” Shrugging his shoulders, Six left the room.

Nine exhaled loudly as they fell to the floor. They fumbled to grab the extra set of keys hanging on the wall. After unlocking the door, they shuffled down the hallway towards Eights. “I got it.” Nine jiggled the key in the lock. Click.

Eights bolted out of the cell and tussled Nine’s soft blond hair, “You magnificent human. Let’s go.”

Eights skipped down the hall, and Nine followed suit, “Now what? Do you know how to get out?”

“It’s been too long,” Eights turned to Nine, “Do you remember the way out?”

“I think so. It shouldn’t be far from here.”

The two opened the creaking door, entering the small room at the end of the hall. Eights gazed at the assortment of guns on the wall. “If we are escaping, we’ll need protection.”

“That’s true,” Nine picked up a gun. “The zoms outside would be hard to kill without one of these.”

“It’ll also be hard to get past the other numbers without one.” Eights weighed the gun in his hand.

“You don’t mean to…”

“There is no other way. The Twelve will come after us if we don’t take them out.” Eights shoved the gun down his pants.

Pap, the sound was loud for the small room. “Nine, what did you-”

Nine lowered the tranquilizer gun slowly, “I’m sorry. I just want us to leave.”

Nine carefully placed the tranquilizer gun on Eights’ stomach. They began dragging the boy down the hallway. Eights was heavier than Nine expected. 

Click, click, click, click, click, the unmistaken sound of high-heeled shoes closed in on them. Nine looked around for a place to hide. A shadow appeared around the corner, and Nine shut his eyes tightly. Click, click, click, click, click, the footsteps were like a clock counting down to Nine’s demise. 

A lady with a two tattooed on her neck appeared from behind the corner. She glanced down the hall at Nine and Eights. Nine’s heart was beating out of their chest as they waited for the woman to charge towards them. Click, click, click, click. The footsteps faded away, and Nine peeked through one of their eyes at the lady. She sauntered in the opposite direction. Nine fell to their knees and heaved a massive sigh of relief. 

The lady snapped her neck back in the direction Nine was standing. “Where did you come from?” Nine’s eyes widened as he looked up at the lady.

Nine snatched the tranquilizer gun, shooting wildly at the lady. Band, bang, bang, bang, thud, Nine’s hands shook. They glanced at the object in their hands. Nine threw the gun and hurried over to the lady. “Lady, lady!” She sprawled across the floor motionless. Blood seeped from behind her head, pooling on the ground. Nine covered their mouth. Tears pooled in their eyes, and their entire body shook.

Nine shuffled back to Eights in a daze, grabbing him by the feet. They sprinted to the exit. No longer afraid someone would hear them, they sobbed as they pushed through the burning pain building in their muscles. The exit door appeared before them when they heard a scream. Someone must have found that lady. Nine force their shoulder into the door while twisting the nob. Sunlight flooded into the mansion.

Grrr, grrr, grrr, the sound assaulted Nine’s senses the moment they left the mansion. Fear struck their soul, and their heart beat loudly. Ba-boom, ba-boom, ba-boom. Nine swung open the gates, and they trudged through the forest. They followed a dirt path on the side of the road. Eights dragged across the ground, leaving a trail behind them. Nine observed the forest when they noticed a small cabin. 

They changed directions, and as they approached the cabin, Nine threw open the doors, shoving Eights into the small building. “Okay, now I just need to cover up this trail.” Dogs barked in the distance as Nine began covering up their trail.