Give a Little Bit

My eyes opened to bright lights. I tried to focus quickly. I was lying on my back, and I wasn’t sure where I was. I could hear muffled speech nearby; nobody was addressing me. My body felt heavy, and I soon realized that I didn’t have control as to whether I could move. I choked on my breath—there was something different about this air, something putrid. 

Eyes focused, they wandered around the first part of the room that caught their attention: the ceiling. There were large organ pipes strapped to the ceiling. Gigantic and brass, they were quite daunting as they hovered about 25 feet over where my body lay. 

I turned my head to find the organ itself directly to my left. It appeared that I was lying on its elongated bench. I attempted to move once more. It wasn’t safe to be this close to an organ—not for me, anyway. As I struggled, I attempted to let out a scream; but no sound left my throat. Panic rose quickly in my body like adrenaline. The muffled speaking came to a slow halt before I heard soft footsteps nearby.

A man came into view. His face was kind and gentle. He wore a top hat and a monocle, and he seemed to be wearing an elaborate suit. He looked down at me, puzzled; but then he reached toward the organ. I squirmed more fiercely. He was no friend: he was my jailor. I tried to let out some sort of sound as his fingertips pressed lightly down on a few keys, causing a chord to echo loudly through the cathedral-like room.

My limbs froze—the air in my throat cooled as my lungs seized. My eyes stared blankly at the ceiling as the man came into view once more, a small smile playing under his well-trimmed moustache.

“You will lie still until I’m done with you,” he muttered, his breath slapping against my face. He straightened and turned back to the people he had been talking to.

“Light Children, what can you do with them? Well, I’m trying to figure it out. I’ve captured one, as you can see…” He was talking as if he were a tour guide in a museum. 

I wasn’t able to focus on anything else he was saying, as I could feel the fever setting in. My head pounded against the light of the room, nausea rose in my stomach, and my stiff limbs ached as heat spread rapidly through my body.

How had he captured me? He was obviously a Grey Child…but normally, Grey Children and Light Children couldn’t cross paths without harming themselves as well as each other. I now supposed that I was the source of bright light that was emanating through this room. A normal Grey room was dark—darker than any Light Child could handle. How was this man withstanding my Light without the need of protection?

My confusion- and pain-riddled brain finally shut down moments after the Key had been played by the Grey Child. I fell once more through space and time, wondering when I would be conscious again and hoping no Grey Children would be around next time.