Silence the Hunger

Sensitive content relating to mental health for this chapter.

***

Alphonse appeared in that same dark abyss-like room. His heart felt like it was submerged in a frigid ice-cold bath. He could feel his heart beating, as if it wanted to escape from his chest. His hands trembled as his eyes painfully shifted to the corner of the room.

A little girl was scrunched up in the room's corner. Her small brittle hands clenched over her ears as she tried her hardest to drone out the sound of screaming.

**

Alphonse shot awake. His heart was beating against his chest. Sweat formed on his forehead as his eyes shifted to a looming figure within the room.

“Sergeant Steele, how can I help you?” Alphonse quickly hid his ugly expression.

“I have some advice, since you were so weak that you fainted.” Sergeant Steele held his arms crossed. Alphonse could see no emotion within his eyes. It was like looking at a bland mountain… boring.

“From now on, you will keep all of your future skills and abilities hidden.” Steele looked at him. His eyebrows were strained. Alphonse was confused. He had been told from the very beginning that if the recruits hid their skills, they would be castigated.

“People here are a lot more twisted than you think. Personally, I’d rather be punished for keeping a secret than letting any potential enemies know my abilities.” Alphonse listened to the caution in his voice and took it to heart. He had no reason to refuse the advice. He had already met people with twisted personalities in this place.

Alphonse got permission to leave and hurried towards the canteen. He used to love food, but now it was becoming a massive pain in the ass. It wasn’t easy consuming that much food; you know!

While he was eating his fill, he pouted at the lack of stat points being added, sadly he hadn’t gained even one stat point as it seemed to slow down considerably after the first couple of weeks. He made his way back to the barracks. It was after dinner time so that meant there were a lot of recruits wandering through the mother ship’s hallways.

“I can’t believe Lady Esdeath fought off an army one-hundred thousand large just by herself. She almost died helping in the Great Migration!” Some female recruits were talking in the hallway as Alphonse perked his ears up at the mention of Esdeath’s name.

“I heard that a god gave her abilities.” Another girl added as they began idolising her.

“Are you scared of our first mission? They keep telling us that the mortality rate is at least 15%, and now that our training is getting rushed, I don’t know what to think.” The girl said in trepidation. The uncertainty was obvious in her voice.

“Yeah, history tells us that many people die in the gateway missions, but we are from Class B. We have the strength to protect ourselves. We’ve simulated fights against monsters many times during this week plus, our magical equipment will protect us. We’ll be fine, Becca.” The girl held Becca’s hands as they comforted each other.

Alphonse continued further as the corridor opened up into a large square. There were quite a few people all surrounding one person as he stood on a box. "My listeners, is it not about time we fight back?!" The man's voice powerfully filled the room as he continued. "The resistance is becoming more powerful, day by day! How many of us have become stronger from those suicide missions from the Garden of Eden?! What gives them the right to make us fight for their benefit? If we all band together, nothing can stop us!" The words shocked Alphonse. He had never heard of this 'Resistance' before.

Alphonse saw a black shadow forming behind the preacher. Everyone stepped back as their heads lowered at the sight. A man wearing a navy uniform exited from the shadow as his hands wrapped around the man's skull.

"Never waver, never giv--" his voice stopped as his head distorted and vanished behind that veil of black mist. The group of people quickly dispersed, their shoulders slouched.

What the fuck... Alphonse quickly made it to back to barracks and sat down next to Dillan.

“Fully recovered again, pal?” Dillan laughed at his demise gleefully.

“Guess so.” Alphonse plopped his head onto his pillow, hiding the terror on his face.

“Hey guys, do you think we’ll be okay with our first mission? I’m actually quite scared.” Marcel said, his timid voice muttering the words with apprehension. Those words seemed to have been wandering around the entire classes.

“Of course we will! After all, we are suffering through that damned psycho’s training.” Isobelle shook her fist around as everyone shivered at the mention of Sergeant Steeles' training methods. His belief was that your bones would grow back stronger after being demolished.

“Even then, you have us watching your back!” Dillan flexed his muscles.

The words reminded Alphonse of the girls in the hallway, and the scene he had witnessed. His hands itched as he cursed at himself. He stood up and looked at the others. “I can’t just sit here and relax. Let’s go to the training centre.” Alphonse’s usual lackadaisical eyes turned fierce.

“Ah, there are those crazy eyes that I love.” Ellena laughed as she stood up and sent a fist into her open palm.

“It can’t be helped, then, can it?” Isobelle smiled as she gently stretched her just recovered back from the previous training session.

They all followed each other as they reached the training centre. Everyone was serious as they began either weight training or sparring. They weren’t the only ones. People from the different classes were all training hard. Seriousness exuded from everyone as anxiousness filled their hearts. Their life was on the line, after all.

Alphonse was currently lifting a barbell filled with weights. It was the heaviest he had tried. He squatted down and began the lift. He felt the extreme resistance from the sheer weight compared to his body. However, he refused to give up. All the instructors had told them that many of them would die on their first mission.

Fuck dying. First on the list is smashing that damned Lance Corporal Dean’s face in. Alphonse thought, as he was reminded of that time when he first arrived.

“AHH!”

Alphonse willed his body to lift the heavy weights. His arms and legs were trembling, threatening to give up, but he kept going. He pushed as hard as he could as he smashed through his limits. The bar was hoisted upward as he held it in position for a few seconds before dropping it onto the ground.

< Physical limits exceeded. Strength increased by one point. >

He held himself up against the wall as he panted. His eyes lay on Ellena and Dillan as they grinned towards him with their thumb held up. Alphonse inspired them. They all began stacking the weights as they tried as hard as they could to break through their limits.

Alphonse noticed Marcel struggling. Sweat drenched his clothes. His frail arms and legs were shaking out of control as he tried lifting it upwards but they instantly gave way.

I’m going to die. That’s the only thought that coursed through his mind as he gave up with the weights. His figure disappeared as he left the training centre. His back seemed so small. Everyone looked at each other and quickly chased after him.

“Marcel, wait up.” Alphonse’s shaking legs gradually caught up to him as the others followed closely by.

Marcel stopped still, tears fell as he held his face within his small hands. His shoulders trembled as the others tried to console him.

“I… I don’t know what to do. I miss home. My mum, my dad, my baby sister. They are ordering us to fight… To die for them!” Marcel’s scream filled the hall. Luckily, it was quiet, so there wasn’t anyone nearby.

The others were stunned on the spot. They didn’t know what to say to that, because it was true.

“Marcel…” Alphonse opened his mouth to talk, his eyes crazily looked at him. “I also hate being here, being told what to do and following orders. I despise it with every cell of my being. Frequently, I’ve wanted to wrap my hands around their throat and…” He took a deep breath, calming himself down.

“But we can’t go back. When you can only go forward, it makes it a little easier.” Alphonse patted him on the shoulder. His words came at a surprise to him. Was he saying it for Marcel or for himself?

Marcel gave an empty smile as he muttered. “Can’t go back.”

They returned to the barracks. Alphonse watched as the others attempted to cheer up Marcel. Even using their measly allowance on buying him some gifts that reminded him of home. However, his grim face didn’t change, it only seemed to make it worse. Night time approached as everyone was fast asleep.

***

Alphonse's eyes were wide awake, kept awake by his insatiable hunger. The thoughts of somehow running away flashed in his mind. However, there was nowhere to go, nowhere to run. Creaking diverted attention to the side.

Marcel crouched over the top bunk, a rope that he had managed from god-knows-where rested around his neck.

Marcel tied the other end to the top bunk railing and stepped down as gravity took effect. His fingers clawed at the rope. His eyes brimmed with anxiety and fear as they made eye contact, he made his decision.

What gives me the right to tell you otherwise? Alphonse watched as Marcel hung himself. 

Marcel's eyes matched with his own, his eyes filled with torment and pain. He barely heard his choking over Dillan’s loud snoring. Shortly, his cold, lifeless body swung back and forth. Alphonse closed his eyes to sleep and soon entered his own nightmares.