Chapter 5 Don’t Use My Name

Grace's Pov

Night came with the same dirty yellow lights.

Most people in the pens tried to sleep. Some actually managed but I couldn’t. Every time I closed my eyes I saw Julian’s face in the yard and the way he had looked straight through me.

I waited until the guards changed shifts. Teresa had said the cameras never slept, but the men watching them got careless in the deep hours.

I stood up slowly and walked toward the far side of the pens where the combat group slept. My heart was beating so heavily I felt it in my neck.

Julian was sitting up against the wall with his eyes open. He saw me coming and his whole body went still.

I stopped a few feet away. Close enough to talk but far enough that it might still look like nothing if someone glanced over.

He spoke first, voice low.

“You shouldn’t be here.”

The sound of his voice after all these years tore through me. I swallowed hard, fighting the ache rising in my throat.

“You’re alive,” I whispered. “I thought you died. They told everyone you died.”

His jaw tightened. “Keep your voice down.”

“Julian…”

“Don’t ever use my name.” He glanced past me toward the nearest camera and the sleeping shapes around us. “Not here. Not even if you can help it.”

I crouched so we were closer to the same level. My hands were shaking again. “What is this place? What did they do to you?”

He stared at me as if he wanted to say something, but whatever I saw in his eyes vanished almost instantly.

“You need to stay away from me,” he said. “Do you understand? Whatever you think this is, you’re wrong. Being near me will only get you killed.”

“I just found out you’re not dead. I’m not going to pretend I didn’t.”

His voice dropped even lower. “Then learn fast. Down here, caring about someone is a weakness they will use. They already have their eyes on you. Don’t give them more reasons.”

A guard’s boots echoed from the hallway. Julian’s face went blank again.

“Go back to your spot,” he said. “Now!.”

I stayed there one more second, just looking at him. The scar on his face. The hardness in his eyes. But under it I could still see the boy who used to walk me home from school, offering his snacks just to make me happy.

I stood up and walked away before the guard came into view.

I lay on my mat with my back to the room, trying to hold myself together as my chest tightened.

☾𖤓☽ ───────── ☾𖤓☽

Julian’s voice kept replaying in my head. The way he had said I shouldn’t be here. The way he had told me not to use his name. Every word was careful and cold, but I had seen the crack underneath.

My mind started pulling up old pictures without asking.

We were twelve the first time we met. His family moved into the house at the end of our street. He had a broken arm from falling out of a tree and a scowl that made most kids stay away.

I brought him a juice box and sat on his porch steps until he finally talked to me. After that we were rarely apart.

I remembered riding bikes in the summer until the streetlights came on. I remembered him helping me with math even though he was only half a year older.

I remembered the night my parents first got quiet and secretive, and how Julian had sat with me on the curb and said nothing, just stayed so I wouldn’t feel alone.

Then one day he was gone.

His house was empty. The neighbors said the family had moved in the night. A week later there was a small notice in the local paper about a car accident and no survivors. My parents had held me while I cried and told me it was a tragedy. They never said much more than that.

Now I know better.

I turned on the thin mat and looked toward the side of the pens where the combat group slept.

I could just make out Julian’s shape against the wall. He was still sitting up and awake. Keeping that careful distance like it was the only thing protecting me.

I wanted to cross the room again and demand every answer. What happened the night they took him? How long had he been down here? Why did my parents lie?

But I stayed where I was.

☾𖤓☽ ───────── ☾𖤓☽

The next day started with the same buzzer and the same tired shuffle of people getting up.

I was sitting on my mat trying to eat the dry protein bar they had handed out when the main doors opened harder than usual. The whole room went quiet in a way that felt practiced.

A man walked in with four guards behind him.

He was tall and thin, with short gray hair and a clean uniform that looked out of place in the pens. His boots were polished. His eyes moved slowly over all of us like he was counting cattle. When he smiled, it did not reach those eyes.

Teresa, who was standing near the wall, spoke under her breath so only the people closest could hear.

“BLACKWOOD.”

I watched him walk to the center of the room. Every few steps he stopped and looked someone up and down. Most people dropped their eyes. A few kept their heads up and paid for it with a longer stare.

He stopped in front of a boy with a bruised face and asked a quiet question. Whatever the boy answered, I didn't know.

Blackwood nodded to the guard. The guard swung and landed a hard blow against the boy’s jaw, knocking him sideways.

Blackwood kept walking, his measured steps echoing through the silence like a warning.

I felt it when his attention landed on me. It was like the air changed temperature. He changed direction and came straight over.

I stayed sitting. My hands were flat on my thighs so he wouldn’t see them shake.

He stopped a few feet away and looked down at me.

“You’re the Sinclair girl,” he said. His voice was soft. Almost polite. “The one with the interesting blood.”

I didn’t answer.

He tilted his head. “They say you’re priority-level. That makes you valuable. Valuable things get special attention here.” He smiled again. “I like to keep a close eye on special things.”

One of the guards chuckled behind him.

Blackwood crouched so his face was closer to mine. I could smell the mint on his breath.

“You’re going to be with us for a while, Grace. The smart ones learn their place early. The slow ones learn it the hard way.” He reached out and tapped the side of my knee with two fingers, slowly. “I do hope you’re smart.”

Then he slowly turned to the others.

“I AM THE RULER OF LIFE AND DEATH. THE DESTROYER. THE ULTIMATE. THE BREAKER OF CHAINS.

DISOBEY ME, AND I WILL FIND YOU, DRINK YOUR BLOOD, AND FEAST ON YOUR FLESH.

RUN IF YOU DARE.

BUT KNOW THIS...

THERE IS NOWHERE YOU CAN HIDE FROM DEATH.”

Then he let out a low, wicked laugh.

“HA... HA... HA… HA…”

For a few seconds, nobody moved.

He turned slowly and walked away, leaving everyone in the silence.

Across the room, Julian was standing with the combat group. His face was blank, but his hands were fists at his sides watching Blackwood’s back with a look that screamed revenge.