Black Swan
Esther Linguey | Ballarat High School |
Secondary English | Term 4 2024
CHAPTER 1
The bleak sunlight crept through the cracks in my cage, the cold seeping into my skin, settling in my bones. This cage was not built by the engineer section; I could tell. Their work was always a thing of pure artistry and wonder, but this? Absolute crap.
It was uncomfortable and small, probably another reminder of my wrongdoings. The whir of the shuttle’s engines and the biting wind outside were my only company as we rattled towards The Keep. I’d heard the name before, whispered in hushed tones along with stories of demons and night terrors. A hellish place where the Blinded were sent for rehabilitation and punishment.
I had received my Blinded brand just two days before my leaving. The raw sting still throbbed beneath the crimson-soaked bandages. I winced, knowing it would likely get infected, but there was nothing I could do about it. Not with these insufferable cuffs cutting into my wrists.
The shuttle lurched, oh my god – I was going to vomit. I hated the motion, it made my head spin. The gas they had drugged me with was no help either, it made the world bend and blur. I could tell the gas had a small amount of Metative; the sickly cold smell of blueberries was intoxicating. I had worked with the drug ever since Mother passed and I could smell it from a mile away and over the years I considered the pungent scent home. The only reason I was still awake now was because of my familiarity with it. My years of experience had made me somewhat immune to the foul substance. But why drug me at all? I was from the healer section, not the enforcer ranks. I was barely a threat, let alone a danger to others. Or had they misjudged me? Did they think I was dangerous?
How amusing.
Shouting in Russian broke through my thoughts and the shuttle came to a jerking halt. The sound of keys jingled as they approached my cell. The door slid open, revealing a tall figure, a man – his stance rigid, probably military. I caught the glint of a taser sticking out of his belt. He approached the corner I had sat myself in, eyeing me. I remained limp. Best to let them think I was still out of it.
He nudged me, testing for a response, then knelt before me. His breath brushed my forehead, hot and quick. I forced my eyes open just a sliver. He was close now, close enough to smell. He smelled like leather and oranges. A far cry from the oil-slick stench that clung to The Keep. He must be high ranking then. His eyes flicked over me, but it was the keys at his waist that caught my attention. They hung there, a dozen or so, each with a different shape, but my eyes landed on one – a tarnished golden key, rusty at the edges.
It had to be mine.
The guard turned to bark orders in another language, his body shifting enough for the keys to come within reach. They were right there. Just one quick swipe and they were mine. Without thinking, I surged forward, my hand grazing his waist. The key slid free, and I jerked back, feigning confusion as if the drug had worn off. He hissed and shoved me away, hard, and I crashed into the wooden wall behind me. The taste of blood flooded my mouth. His taser cracked to life.
I didn’t have time to think. He was up, his face now visible in the harsh light. Dark, but soft features hidden behind black hair that was tied into a bun at the base of his neck. His eyes were deep brown, soulless, with thick brows furrowing over them. I filed the image away, for safekeeping. I stayed perfectly still, playing the role of a disoriented prisoner, hoping the guard would lose interest.
After a few moments, he seemed satisfied I was no threat and stepped out of the holding cell, mumbling to another guard as he went. A minute later, a new guard entered – a woman this time. Without hesitation, she strode over and yanked me off the ground, tossing me roughly over her shoulder. She spun on her heel and marched out of the shuttle. I quickly slid the key up my sleeve, hiding it from view.
The blinding sunlight hit me like a slap, and the harsh glare made my ears ring. I tried to look around, but it was hard to focus when I was upside down, hanging over the guard’s shoulder like a sack of grain.
The woman shoved me into a small wooden cart, already overflowing with prisoners. All bearing the Blinded mark. People from every corner of the world and every background stared at each in silence and fear. The wasteland around us stretched endlessly, barren and unforgiving.
The wind blew and I shivered. The cold here was crueller than it was in my shuttle.
In the distance loomed the oil-slick fortress, The Keep. Smoke, fire and toxic fumes billowed from its chimneys, raining down on the factories and prisoners below. Its dark, jagged metal stood out starkly against the white landscape. Almost like a black swan among white ones.
It resembled a beast, one that would swallow you whole and torment you in its fiery belly.
This place was going to eat me alive.
