The Blue That Never Sleeps

“Nghh~”

Light. Light’s passing through my eyelids, light so strong it could almost blind me.

Could it be… The sun…?

“ARGHHHHHH!”

The smell of kerosene and the blood-curdling screech of a child instantly broke that fleeting dream.

Just the light of the guard's torch was it huh…

Right… Like the sun would ever grace me with its presence.

A small wry smile appears on my face as footsteps start closing in. The screaming is getting louder and stronger with each passing second . And I can make out a faint sinister laugh backing it up.

I slowly open my eyes — around me are the same cold damp stone walls of the cell I’ve been forced to call home. As always, the air is suffocating and the atmosphere is crushing me from the inside.

I hate it… I hate it so much.

“IT HURTS, RAAAAAHHHH IT HURTS SO MUCH, MAKE IT STOP - I BEG YOU, I BEG YOU!!!” The screams echo across the vast cavey interior leaving me with goosebumps.

A new one huh… I think to myself briefly, while a figure holding a child by the collar in one hand, torch in the other slowly stumbles into view, walking up to the grates. His eyes look unfazed by what’s happening, this whole ordeal must be second nature to him afterall.

Eventually, the massive lock gave way with a heavy mechanical click. The rusty iron door screeched on its hinges — a high, piercing wail barely audible over the screaming child dragged in the guard’s grip.

“PLEASE, I-IT’S UNBEARABLE, MAKE IT STOP, I'D RATHER DIE THAN SUFFER THIS, AAAAAAAGHHH”

“Shut it, will you?” The man barks, his disgust and disinterest in the small fragile life impossible to miss.

“Hey, you all, meet your new friend.” He throws the boy just a few meters away from my feet, while breaking down into a haunting chuckle. “Treat him well!” He turns around on his heel and with a small gesture of his now free hand, he waves a sarcastic attempt at a goodbye.

Before leaving however, a parting gift — a spit right to the newcomer’s face. Only then do the doors close back up with one more click of the lock, and just as quickly as the man came he’s gone.

I decide to scan around the cell, making sure to note down the reaction of the rest of the unfortunate souls. As expected, most can't help but just stare blankly, we’ve all been there.
Everyone in this cell is a child, or well… Pondering on that thought for a while.

Maybe a grotesque caricature of a child would be a better description.
No one here is older than fifteen if I had to guess, probably even less, yet the look in everyone’s eyes reflects nothing of their child appearance. On the topic of eyes, the room holds a haunting spectacle, it’s mostly only illuminated by a small light blue glow emanating from one eye of everyone present.

Ocular Brand - the “gift” we've all been granted. The same “gift” that has already managed to completely drain the new boy of his vocal cords, but the pain has yet to subside. He continues to twitch in agony, trying his hardest to scream, only for nothing to come out.

In a split moment his eyes lock right with mine, his right eye is swollen, faintly glowing and there's a mark on his iris - meaning slave.

The sight alone is enough to make me wanna scream out in anger. While the few dregs of my humanity that are still left tug at my heart’s strings, trying to lull me into offering him comfort.
Do you think I don’t want to? Do you truly think me so heartless to expect me to ENJOY THIS?!
While fighting my own self, I clutch my fists tight, knuckles turning white. No matter how I want to fight reality however, the truth is my body won’t move, not anymore. It learned its lessons…
Sharing a few quick glances with the rest of the slaves — it’s obvious that I’m not the only one fighting my innermost self…

The reason behind our inaction is quite simple. Fear. But also the unmistakable outcome that would follow.
The main function of the eye brand is that of surveillance, it’s linked to an “overseer” that supposedly follows our every move. If I were to make even the tiniest of movements I’d instantly be forced back to my place by the brand’s hold over me. I’ve experienced it first hand numerous times, as have many others. It’s like your brain’s being burned from the inside. I suspect it’s another sinister power of the brand.

In the end all I can do for now is to glare down at the now barely conscious boy giving me a saddened look, his eyes glistening with tears and his lips parched. In a few quiet moments, he’s finally under, a blessing in disguise.
I can’t help but let out a desperate snort at the sight
…lucky for him — I stubbornly held on for hours…

My head gets filled with bad memories as I get flashes of my time being branded.
Just remembering that made all the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

There's around a dozen of us, staring blankly at the new blood. Most are demi-humans like me.
Apparently we are deemed unwanted and disgusting by most. Helps with guilt of slaving us out I’m sure.

A hopeless, soft grin forms on my face at the weight of this, feeling my elongated right fang drag across the skin below my lower lip — one of the proofs of my "impurity".

For I am a demon-kin, a half human half demon. One of the few constants I can truly take for granted. The rest being a small leathery tail that seems to always find a way to get stuck in the worst possible ways imaginable, a small horn nub on the top of my left side that’s showing ever so slightly from underneath my ashen white hair, the few scales I’ve got adorning my collar bone, legs and forearms and most importantly — My name, Lilith.

And how could I forget… this eye that never stops glowing, never stops surveilling me. No matter what I can constantly feel it pulsing underneath my eyelids, clouding up both my vision and mind with the same light blue fog, mirroring the color of its glow.

It really gets in the way of trying to sleep too…

The similarities between me and others doesn’t stop at our natures alone though, we are all broken and battered, most are missing fingers or limbs. The “lucky” ones “only” missing chunks of their souls…

“This really is so messed up…!” a quiet whisper joined by a pathetic slam of my fist. In the end that's all I am capable of. And that's why I am here.

***

A few hours have passed, the boy has finally stopped twitching and is now sleeping on the cold stone floor. It seems that the brand finalized its imprint on his eye. He’s breathing, albeit quite faintly.
I use this moment to take a good look at him.
Surprisingly, he’s human, at least from what I can see. He doesn’t have any clear signs of being a demi-human. He’s also a few good years older than me, although that doesn’t really come off as a surprise. As far as I can tell I’m the youngest of the bunch, and by a large margin too. My guess is that I’ve been a slave pretty much as soon as I was born. The first memory I can remember is that of being branded.
I do commend them for waiting until I wasn’t a toddler for that.
I sarcastically say to myself as I slump my head slightly, clutch my branded eye with my hand and sport a grin that’s mixed with anger and sadness.

As far as I’m aware I’m around eight years old by now. I recall overhearing a conversation between a few of the guards — their choice of topic being me.
What they found to be particularly hilarious about me was the price for what I purchased.
“The wench must’ve whored herself out to a demon, got knocked up and ashamed she came running to us, leaving with a single silver coin!” one of the guards said between chomping down on food.
“Hah! She seemed to have learned her lesson though, she hasn’t been back with another for eight years!” replied the other, both positively amused.
My nose flares in anger. I remember all too well how I felt as they were downing drinks and laughing at my misfortune. I still had a bit more pride by then and thought it proper to try and defend my “honor”. Oh how naive of me.
The painful memories of that night slowly crawl their way into my head.
Since then I know better.

Eventually the thoughts became too much to bear and I drifted off to a worried light sleep.

***

The morning came sooner than I had hoped it would. Not like you can tell what time it is, the sun doesn’t shine down here.
In here, morning comes when guards get up from their drunken stupor and remember to feed us.
After that we’re usually rounded up onto a carriage and hauled over to our next job. Today’s no different I think to myself as I reluctantly take one of the bowls. No reason to hurry, the taste and effort needed wards off any attempt at infighting. We’re all gonna need as much energy to survive the dungeons in just a few hours anyway.

That's the main reason behind why we're fed in the first place. Dungeon runs — we're used in all manner of ways. Scouts, glorified trap fodder, distractions, you name it. There's many utilities for disposable meat. The dungeons we are sent to are mostly already cleared, ignoring the lowly rat or a goblin that sometimes survives. From the knowledge I’ve amassed, the slavers have a team of adventurers on payroll. They take what they can get plus additional pay from the slavers. It’s enough to let them sleep at night, so it’s probably a lot.
I wonder if that’s just how adults are…?

I’m suddenly jolted from my thoughts by the light touch of someone trying to sit next to me. I instinctively scramble back, my lips curling into a hiss that exposes my single sharp fang.
It’s the new kid, his eyes widened and he’s clearly taken aback by my reaction.
“...Name?” I ask while keeping my gaze locked at the bowl and keeping a moderate distance between the two of us. I swallow a spoonful of food while the boy is trying his hardest to come up with an answer.
“...Ken, my name’s Ken… I think. My mind… it’s so foggy…?”

"You’ve got your new eye to thank for that." I finally turn to face him, sweeping back the curtain of hair on my right side to expose the brand carved over my eye.

Ken flinches, his hand instinctively reaching up to touch his own swollen eye.

"It doesn't go away," I reply quietly, swallowing another spoonful.
"The fog, the fear of something constantly clawing at you, the ever-present blue glare in your vision... it's the brand letting you know your body isn't yours anymore." I bite my lip hard enough to draw blood, a single drop hitting the ground below me.
Ken grimaces, his hands shaking. "You... you look younger than me. How are you so calm about this?"

"I'm not calm. I've just seen what happens when you try to resist." I gesture with my chin toward the dark corner of the cell. "Look."

A boy sits curled against the stone, muttering frantically as he scrapes a jagged rock against the floor. Blood drips from his knuckles. “Make it stop... just make it stop...”
Before Ken can speak, the boy snaps. With a desperate sob, he raises the sharp stone and thrusts it straight toward his glowing eye.
"NO!" Ken cries out, flinching away.

But the blow never lands. A few millimeters from his eyelid, the boy's arm freezes mid-air, trembling violently. Invisible chains in his mind lock his muscles tight. He can't do it.

"See?" I say, my voice cold, though my own chest tightens. "We aren't even allowed to die."
I’ve seen others try time and time again, in the past I thought of it myself too.

"W-what's happening to him?" Ken stammers, tears welling in his eyes.

"The Overseer," I tell him, reaching over to pull Ken's head away.
"Look away. Now." I cover his ears to spare him from the horror that will inevitably follow.

As Ken buries his face, the boy in the corner collapses, our eyes locking for a split second before the brand flashes a brilliant, cruel blue — searing his mind from the inside out for daring to defy it.

I feel Ken’s body shake as he desperately forces himself to not look.

He’s clinging to me in hopes of comfort.

I don't like it, but it seems the last dregs of humanity force me to let him.

—------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Author's notes:
Heya, welcome to Unbroken! This is my first ever time sinking my teeth into writing, so I hope you’ll excuse me and teach me the proper ways. Either way though I am super excited to share Lilith’s journey with you all. This story will delve into some dark fantasy elements, brutal survival but the payout will be a really sweet romance down the line so keep that in mind going in!

I’d love to hear your thoughts, predictions, or feedback in the comments. Thanks for reading, and enjoy Chapter 1!