Free Dusk of Defiance (The Era of Ensemble Book 1) by JP Woosey Page B

entrance opened. It sounded more human. It was a male voice, and he spoke in English. Luke entered.
    The room felt brighter, but only because of the partially white walls and floors. Luke knew they were once all white, but smears and stains had left their mark. There were sinks scattered around the edges of the room, and an emergency eye wash station in the corner. Broken glass from beakers and tubes provided a sparkle as Luke walked further into the room and towards a lone man.
    “I didn’t mean to. How can it be my fault?” The man spoke in one of the corners of the room. He faced the wall and he was stroking his hand along it.
    “ Hello?” Luke announced his presence, but the man didn’t hear him, or he ignored him. “Excuse me sir?” Luke still didn’t receive a response.
    “ You told me to do it? How can you be mad at me?” The man squeezed his fingers into a fist. “No! Don’t lie to me. That’s wrong and you know it.” The man punched the wall. Luke heard a snap and a clang from the man’s bone on the metal. If the man had broken his hand he hadn't realised. “Do you think I enjoy hitting you!” The man screamed at the wall and continued with a flurry of punches. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to.” The man fell to his knees and began to weep.
    “ Are you alright?” Luke asked as he stepped closer to him.
    The deranged man slowly turned around. His face covered in scratches, his dark shaggy hair was bald in places, his left eye was intensely bloodshot and his right eye was nowhere to be seen. “I did not send for you.” The man announced. “Yes I don’t like him either.” The man nodded as he turned back to the wall. “It’s his smell, his clothes, his pretty little face.”
    That was the first time Luke had ever been called ‘pretty’. His guts told him it was a bizarre compliment, totally out of place and inappropriate. Is the man talking to himself, me, the wall or all three of us? Luke didn't want to dwell on this thought. The one eyed man reminded him of Lance. Lance could drift in and out of sanity too. Perhaps this man is stricken with the same type of infliction? Perhaps he has moments where his thoughts are clear and his sanity returns? Luke did not step any further. He tried to relax his stance and he repeated, “Are you alright? Do you need any help?”
    The man turned back to Luke. “You can’t just wander around you know.” He turned away from him and back to the wall. “No. No, I won’t have it either.” The man was in a deep conversation with the wall, or more likely himself. “Excuse me… I’m sorry I’m afraid I don’t know your name.” He didn’t wait for Luke to answer. “Can you come here? I’d like to see that limb you’re holding. I believe it belongs to a friend of mine.”
    Luke cautiously walked over to the man and held out the arm in his hand. The one eyed man took it from him gently and inspected it carefully before he spoke again.
    “ Oh, my mistake, it doesn’t belong to my friend. No. It belongs to my son.” The man looked up from the severed arm and straight at Luke. “Such a shame he wouldn’t listen to the wise one, but laws are laws and I had to kill him. Such a shame.”
    “ You killed your son?” Luke asked, though his tone suggested he didn’t sound surprised.
    “ Yes, he deserted us you see. Deserters are punished with death. I killed him, but killers are also punished.” The man felt for his right eye. “An eye for an eye.” The man laughed, but quickly stopped. “Now your reward.”
    “ My reward?” Luke inquired confused. “What have I done to garner a reward?”
    “ Well you’re one of the few who possess a pure mind, and that would make a magnificent sacrifice to the wise one.” The man turned to the wall. “Ah you agree.” The man smiled. “So it’s settled. You’ll be the first sacrifice of the day. You must be ecstatic.”
    “ I won’t be a sacrifice. I’m going to leave, and if you follow me I will