Hunger

"I need to eat! Please!" the man pleaded. His arms in chains, his face bruised and bloody. He shouted at the door, and the small, barred window that was clean enough only to allow him to see the silloete of the guard that stood on the other side.

His voice was hoarse from hours of sceaming and his knees ached from days of kneeling. Perhapse he would not be so desperate to eat if he was alone in his cell but opposite him was another chained man.

But this man did not beg. He watched his cellmate with eyes filled with confusion, worry and fear, for he did not know why the man screamed. He had been there when they beat him and he was silent, he watched them cut him, and he was silent, but now, left in a cell with his friend he begged for them to feed him, he screamed for mercy.

He had stopped asking why.

The sound of the heavy metal lock in the door caused the screaming man to stop screaming and look up to the door to his left. A familiar guard entered the room. He held the grip of an AK 47 rifle tightly in his right hand as he opened the door with his left and kept his eye on the man with less confidence that expected, considering the man was in chains and he held a gun.

He slowly entered the room trying to seem more relaxed than he felt, glancing quickly over to the other man with far less concern for him.

Behind him came another guard who carried a tray. From the point of view of the two kneeling men they could not see what the tray held but they both looked at it with hungry eyes, hoping their captors had grown tired of hearing the screams.

The guard with the tray walked further in to the room, his eyes also fixed on the man to his right, paying little attention to the one on his left.

The first guard left the door and aproached the man with false confidence. He looked down at him closer than he had looked before. His hair was black. It was medium length and covered some of his face. Some of the strands were stuck to his face with dry blood and sweat.

But the guard was not interested in the mans hair. He looked at his eyes. He had noticed them before and was not suprised at what he saw but he had not yet had the chance to really look at them. The eyes themself were not unfamiliar but seeing them in the face of a man was something not many people had done. There was no white in his eyes. They were mostly a pale yellowish colour, perhapse a little green.this colour was constant in the whole of the eyes except for a thin black slit that ran down the middle of each. They were eyes that did not belong on a human, but on a cat.

After a long look at the man's eyes the guard gae him a disgusted look and spat out; "Freak." He then turned to the other guard and reached for an item on the tray. The man ignored the coment and watched the guard's hand with desperation hoping it was reacing for food.

It wasn't. The hand brought back a plastic cup of water that the guard put down in front of the man, just close enough for him to reach. Then began to do the same for the other man.

As the cup was lowered in front of him the man watched as the hope vanished from his face. He closed his eyes and clenched his jaw, anger building up inside him.

The other man immediately leaned forward and took the rim of his cup in his teeth and drank the water, carefull not to spill a drop.

But the black haired man didnt touch it. He breathed deep and looked up to see the guards heading for the door. "Please. You have to get me some food," he spoke impatiently, his voice rough from the screaming. The guards ignored him and he suddenly felt a jolt of rage travel through him and out through his mouth.

Rising to his feet he roared, causing the guards to jump and take a few sudden steps away, towards the door. But the man was in chains, the chains attatched to the wallm, and as he began to pounce at the closest guard he felt the pull of the wall stop him from getting even close to him. All he could do was stand there, pulling away from the wall, baring sharp, carnivorous teeth.

The other man watched in shock, stunned silent and scared stiff. He had never heraed his friend roar before.

The guard with the rifle stood up tall, grasping his weapon even tighter and now pionting it at the chest of the wild man. He wanted to pull the trigger. He wanted to be sure. But he knew he couldn't. That was not his decision. He made sure the chains would hold the man and stepped forward with the but of his rifle facinf forward and hit the man square in the jaw.

The man fell. He was hit hard. He looked up to see the guards leaving the room. He managed to sit up and leaned against the wall, his arms by his side and his eyes closed. He had felt that type of rage only once before and had feared what would happen if he felt it again more than anything.

He looked over at his friend and saw fear in dis eye. The man looked back and almost shouted the words; "What the hell was that?"

He didnt get a reply straight away. And when he did it didn't answer his question. It only made his fear and desperation to escape even greater than before.

"We need to get out of here, man," came the man's hoarse voice. "You wont like me when i'm hungry."

The End

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