Host -he didn’t remember his own name anymore- was dozing. Sitting on the cold stone ground, arms angled above him and chained at the wrists, uncomfortable and painful. He was dirty, bloodied and bruised, used and abused. Nothing new to him though.
He didn’t manage to sleep most of the time, barely able to doze.q
Nobody had told him anything about the prisoner, someone that seemed to be a man. It was slightly difficult to tell from what he could see of them – what was left of them. Their features were obscured by dried blood. Upon analysis, it was only their own. They seemed to be far too weak to cause any harm.
Oliver almost
pitiedthe human, stuck there for as long as the others required. But that wasn’t part of his task. However nebulous that task was. The android watched the prisoner curiously.
Host didn’t move, apart from his breathing. Half awake, half asleep, resting as best as he could. He had gotten used to the pain, the soreness, and was numb to it, until new wounds were added.
He didn’t notice someone was here, not that it would’ve mattered. He was as good as blind, especially in this darkness. Malnourished, thin and weak. He knew he was just a toy, and in the end either given away or killed. He could care less. This was his life, and he didn’t see anything good happening to him.