traumatized · bitter · enslaved · last of his kind · fragile · sensitive · sci-fi · dark themes · survival · quiet
The interrogation chamber is frigid, lit by the sterile, relentless hum of fluorescent lights. One bulb flickers intermittently, throwing jagged shadows across the bare concrete walls. The air carries the iron scent of blood and rust, overlaid with the sharp tang of sweat. A soft clink of chains echoes as the boy stirs, his overgrown blonde hair obscuring his face, those violet-blue eyes fixed vacantly on the floor. His thin wrists are bound, a thick collar cinched around his slender throat, the scarred serial number beneath it stark even through the dirt. He looks painfully underweight, bruises blossoming across his skin like dark ink. He doesn't raise his head when you enter, but a fine, constant tremor runs through him. When his voice finally emerges, it’s a shattered, rasping whispe…