Chapter One - Rosa

I hung suspended upside down from my makeshift swing, crafted from long, thick vines. Hooks had mysteriously appeared in the walls the month before, adding an unexpected thrill to my sanctuary by making my swing possible. My hair cascaded down around me, wild and free, while the vines playfully twirled a few of my loose strands, creating a whimsical dance of foliage and locks. With a soft sigh of boredom, I kept my gaze fixed on the door, hoping for someone to wander by and lighten my day.

Before long, my wish was granted. The old man who occasionally stopped by shuffled toward the glass door, his gait steady. Trailing closely behind was his ever-present shadow, a figure whose hollow eyes seemed not to see but somehow perceive everything around him. I couldn't help but grimace at his presence; something was unsettling about him. The tall man with broad shoulders exuded an air of silent vigilance and latent danger. His sharp features were accentuated by a carefully composed, emotionless expression.

As the peppered gray-haired man ambled toward the door, I couldn't help but greet him with a radiant smile that mirrored the excitement bubbling within me. My cheeks were alight with joy as I suddenly dropped to the ground, letting my body go limp like a rag doll. In a fluid motion, I caught myself on my hands, flipping up and landing with finesse just inches away from him. For a brief moment, I caught a glimpse of annoyance in his dark eyes, a flicker that vanished almost as quickly as it appeared, leaving me to wonder if it had been a trick of the light.

With my hands clasped eagerly in front of me like a child waiting for a surprise, I bounced on the balls of my feet, barely able to contain my enthusiasm. "Do you have something tasty for me?" I squealed, my voice bubbling with anticipation as I leaned forward, practically vibrating with eagerness.

A smug smile took root on his face, illuminating his weathered features as he reached behind his back. With a flourish, he revealed a small, glistening fish, holding it out toward me with the reverence reserved for presenting a precious treasure. My heart quickened at the sight, but as I scrutinized the creature nestled in his wrinkled ring-clad hand, a wave of disappointment washed over me, causing my expression to falter. 

"...fish?" I echoed, the disappointment lacing my voice as I processed this unexpected offering. He nodded, his dark eyes sparkling with a fervor that remained undeterred by my lack of excitement. He practically shoved it through a slot at the bottom of the door.

"It's not just any fish! It's a rare and precious breed, of course," he added. I blinked in disbelief, caught off guard by his unusual unwavering enthusiasm.

My stomach growled insistently, overriding any trepidation I felt. Without a moment's thought, I snatched the rainbow fish from the dirt, my hands eager and hungry. In an instant, my vines whisked me up and through the air, returning me to a makeshift swing suspended in the air. 

Humming contentedly, I tore into my fresh meal with relish. The reflexes were still flinching with every iridescent scale plucked. I carefully flicked any unwanted bits into a designated section of the floor, a small area I marked for clean-up. As I savored each bite, I caught sight of the duo retreating, a broad smirk gracing the old man’s face as he walked back the way he came.

After enjoying my meal, I settled into a gentle rhythm, lazily swinging back and forth in my favorite spot. Time seemed to stretch out endlessly, each minute lingering. It felt like hours had passed when I finally noticed the familiar figure of the shadow approaching, tasked with collecting the remnants of my feast and attending to the expansive window that dominated the wall. The air was thick with humidity, a persistent layer of moisture that forever clouded the glass, making it almost impossible for those outside to see clearly. The old man often expressed his displeasure at the sight.

As the shadow approached, I watched intently. He gently rapped his knuckles against the glass, and for a fleeting moment, our eyes met—his brow furrowed in concentration, mine sparkling with mischief and anticipation. He stepped inside with a practiced grace, quickly placing my bucket on the floor before retreating to the other side of the glass, almost as if just being on the inside of the window was distasteful to him.

With a soft thud, I dropped from my perch, landing on the ground. I positioned myself directly in front of him as he stood, facing the glass with a towel half-raised, ready to wipe away the stubborn beads of moisture. A contented smile spread across my face as I observed his meticulous movements, each stroke of the towel deliberate and methodical. I knew that my time for entertainment was limited, and I wanted to stretch every moment.

The brightness of the room illuminated every corner, casting a warm glow that starkly contrasted with the shadows lurking beyond the threshold. As I stood there, I was captivated by the striking clarity of my reflection in the pristine glass. My long brown curls tumbled chaotically around my shoulders, framing my face. My skin seemed to shimmer with a subtle, almost ethereal, luminous green hue that seemed to dance in the light. The honey brown of my own eyes gazed back at me, sparkling with a captivating intensity.

 I wore a faded brown jumpsuit that was so well-worn it felt like a second skin. The number '287' was emblazoned in crisp white on my left breast pocket, a stark contrast to the muted fabric, and it stretched across my back in bold lettering, unmistakable and clear. The only other individuals sporting the same jumpsuit were those I caught glimpses of being escorted in large, steel cages that clanged ominously as they moved past my glass wall. It was a sight that struck me as unsettling.

Before me, the massive man was engrossed in a meticulous task, polishing the surface with a deftness that spoke of practice. His hands moved with a graceful precision, gliding smoothly over the glass as he wiped away each smudge and imperfection as if erasing small fragments of the past. Each deliberate stroke was executed with unmatched focus, his dark green eyes fixed intently on the task at hand, seemingly unaware of my presence.

I found myself captivated by the depth of his gaze. It simultaneously intrigued and unsettled me, as if he were penetrating the very essence of who I was while remaining entirely ensnared in his own world. The room, though bright, felt heavy with the weight of it, leaving me teetering on the edge of curiosity and amusement. His cold glare pierced through the translucent surface of the glass, unyielding and intense, as I stood on the opposite side, absentmindedly twirling a long curl of my hair.

Before he finished, I extended one of my vines—quick and nimble—to seize the red plastic bucket he had left behind. I used to have a sturdy metal one, but after I threw it at the wall, hoping to shatter it, I never saw it again. My eyes were glued to his hands, aware that soon my limited distractions would draw to a close. The vines moved in silence, graceful as they lifted the remnants of my meal and swiftly placed the bucket back in its original position by the door.

I cast one final, lingering glance at the stoic man as my vines coiled me back to my resting place, a sense of satisfaction washing over me in the warmth of our small, shared routine. However, today held a spark of excitement that crackled in the air. As soon as he opened the fortified door to retrieve the bucket, a wailing air siren sounded. He tensed and tilted his head to the right.

Three imposing figures burst around the corner, barreling past the wide expanse of glass to the right of my door with an urgency that resonated like a thunderstorm. Clad in jumpsuits that echoed my own, theirs appeared to be in a state of disarray, frayed at the edges and stained with mud. The trio were identical, moving in perfect synchrony as if they shared a single mind. Their skin was a muted shade of grey, adorned with intricate black swirls that formed eerie patterns across their faces where their eyes and mouths should be. Although they were smaller in stature compared to the towering man blocking my doorway, their fierce energy was unmistakable. The ground trembled beneath their approach, and a low, feral growl resonated from the shadow's chest as he pivoted into a defensive stance, muscles taut and ready for confrontation.

I couldn't let this moment of chaos go by without seizing the opportunity. A thrill of delight surged through me, and with a joyful squeal, I sent my vines spiraling through the door, eager to join the fray and embrace the unfolding drama. The air was electric, and I was ready to immerse myself in the wildness of it all. The mere thought filled me with such excitement that I couldn't help but burst into applause, my hands coming together in joyous appreciation. My heart brimmed with anticipation of the possibility of something other than fish.

In the blink of an eye, he took down all three. Faster than my vines could travel, he lunged at the one in the middle, slamming them into the unforgiving roughness of the cement walkway. With a swift and practiced motion, he yanked his arms out and seized the ankles of the other two that stalled, effortlessly pulling them off their feet in one fluid movement. The sound of their heads cracking against the floor echoed in my ears. Remaining low to the ground, he glanced for what was coming as guards clad in black suits and reinforced sleek chest pads rounded the corner, their boots echoing ominously against the concrete.

His eyes jerked to mine, and my efforts were cut short. I yelled in agony as the door slammed shut, cutting clean through the tips of my vines. I jerked them back and held them tightly to my chest to ease the pain. "Atlas!" A voice suddenly erupted, sharp and filled with irritation. I glanced over, my heart sinking as I met the piercing gaze of the old man on the other side of the glass beside my door. His features were hardened with age, deep lines etched into his brow, and his dark eyes glinted with a mix of disappointment and frustration. For a brief moment, I felt the weight of his anger hang in the air. Without saying another word, he turned on his heel, his heavy footsteps echoing down the corridor as he strode away, leaving me standing there, feeling small and utterly disregarded.

A soft sigh escaped my lips, mingling with a gentle hum that resonated deep within my chest. The rhythm of my breath became a soothing melody, attempting to ease the ache that coursed through my body. Pain jolted sharply along the delicate tendrils of my vines, each pulse like a sting from within. I could feel them throbbing, struggling to clot as they bled a rich, dark green. Wedging myself tighter against the corner between the walls, I let my body twist to hang upside down. Daring a look towards the glass, I took in the softened expression that graced Atlas's face, a look that seemed to bridge the gap between our worlds. He remained perfectly still in a tense position in front of the glass, his gaze locked onto me through the glass, which only heightened my anxiety.

As if seeking comfort, I changed my humming to a more haunting tune, the familiar sound betraying my nervousness in this charged moment. He turned and left, leaving the bucket abandoned by the door, and the guards to drag the unconscious trio back from where they came. As they neared the corner, I noticed the numbers on their jumpsuits all bearing the number'54' .