Exodus by R.J. Wolf

he’d had a meal.
    It squealed as he dragged it across the floor, scratching its nails into the metal.  Suddenly it whipped around and buried its incisors into his hand.
    Anthony yelped and let it go.  The rat hopped away and quickly disappeared into a crack in the wall.  Anthony fell back against the floor and huffed.
    Water slowly ran down the moss covered stones and dripped onto his face.  He shivered and pulled his legs in tighter.  With a sigh of exhaustion he closed his eyes and plummeted into a deep sleep.
    He tossed and turned rolling back and forth on the hard floor.  As he slept, Anthony dreamt he was floating in eternal darkness.  He was trapped in the middle of nothing, like a lost soul between heaven and hell.
    Every breath he took was shallow, like a weight had been pressed against his chest.  He felt crowded, the emptiness squeezing him tighter and tighter.  The darkness swarmed him, crashing over him like giant waves in the ocean.
    “Wake up!”  A booming voice echoed in Anthony’s head like a drum.
    Anthony slowly opened his eyes.  His nose was pressed against the brick wall, his face marked with the imprint of the jagged rocks.  He was drenched in sweat, but shivered uncontrollably.
    He rolled onto his back and tried to focus his eyes.  Everything was eerily silent, but he was certain he’d heard something.  He held his breath straining his ears and then he heard it again, amplified inside his head.
    “Wake up!”
    It was hard to tell where the voice was coming from.  It was almost like someone had screamed into his ear.  Anthony scratched his head and then slowly spoke.
    “He...hello?”  Anthony stuttered.
    “You are still alive…that is good.”  The scratchy voice responded.
    Anthony sat up and leaned back against the wall.  He rubbed his face and yawned. 
    “Who are you?”
    “Titles are unimportant boy.”  The man snapped back.
    “Why are we here, what do they want with us?”
    Anthony waited for a response, but there was only silence.  He was eager to find out something.  For two years the only contact he’d had was with the people holding him.
    “Hello.”  Anthony mumbled.
    “They want what we all want, power.  It is curious however, that you’ve survived this long.  If they haven’t killed you yet, it’s because they can’t figure out how.”
    “If they haven’t killed me yet?”  Anthony repeated.   
    “You’re still alive are you not?  Most don’t make it more than a few months.”
    “How long have you been here?”  Anthony whispered back.
    The man laughed.  “I lost count a long time ago, but we do what we must.”
    Anthony cringed.  He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there either, but he couldn’t stomach the idea of a dingy cell being the rest of his life.  He thought death would certainly be more pleasant.
    “What’s your name?”  The man said.
    “Anthony…Anthony Dimair.”
    “Well Anthony, my name is.”  The man paused for a minute.  “There was a time when I was known as Daviathan.”
    “Daviathan.”  Anthony whispered.
    Rubbing his fingers across the wall he sighed and closed his eyes.
    “How did you survive being here so long?”  Anthony asked.
    Daviathan sighed.  “They tried poking me with everything they could.  Understand that it’s not only their intent to end our lives, but to gather as much information as possible.  Their attempts on me were futile in both regards, as I knew they would be.  Eventually they moved on.”
    “Why are we here?  What’s wrong with us?”  Anthony pleaded.
    “There’s nothing wrong with you and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”  Daviathan said angrily.  “You sound young.  How many cycles have passed for you?”
    “Cycles?  What are cycles?”
    “Counts of a human life child, certainly you know this.  How many?  There are only so few of us around, surely we’ve met before.”
    “Counts of a human life?  I am human…I only have one