The Feeding Season
by
Stoyan T. Stoyanov
All rights reserved. Neither the book as a whole or any parts thereof may be reproduced in any form.
Copyright: Stoyan T. Stoyanov 2014
Stoyan Todorov Stoyanov owns the exclusive rights to this book.
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Table of Contents
The Start of The Feeding Season
About the Author
Connect with me
Chapter 1
Another tremor shook the interior of the Fortress. The distant roar from the movement of underground layers mixed with the sound of the creaking columns that had been installed to keep the rotting ceiling from collapsing. In room 35 of the living quarters, the boy sleeping on the top bunk fell to the floor with a thud. Upon standing up, his bare feet registered the ice cold floor and he quickly forgot about the pain in his ribs and nimbly climbed back up under his warm covers.
“Six!” anxiously said Bars while he covered his head.
During this endless night, the boy constantly tossed and turned in his old bunk and instead of sleeping would carefully count the underground tremors. In the last few days, the quakes were coming more frequently, which meant that very soon the moment was approaching for the Descent. And like everyone his age, Bars awaited that day with great anxiety. During these tense moments, the creaking of his bunk was like a hellish echo bouncing around the walls of the dark room, whichhe shared with his roommates.
Most of the time, Bars felt rather cramped in the tight compartment that he was forced to share with the two other boys, but that was room 35. And it had been his home since entering it for the first time when he was 3 years old. At that time, the ceiling had been much higher and the walls had still been strong, but now his home had turned into a cell that barely fit three boys, two mattresses and the bed that was built into the wall. Despite the intolerable living conditions, Bars preferred to stay in his room, because what the world outside his room offered was several times more frightening. But unfortunately, he didn't have the right to choose, and the time he had left to stay in his room was diminishing with every successive tremor. With the noises of the night that hovered in the Fortress mixing with Toomba's snoring, Bars understood that sleep would be impossible this night.
“Hey, Grez! Nudge him!” Bars said tiredly.
The two boys – Toomba and Grez, lying on their old mattresses on the floor, continued to sleep without waking. They were thrown in with Bars a year ago after their room had become unfit for living. Almost every night since then, they were constantly pilfering his covers, because the broken climate box was unable to warm even this insignificant space. Maybe, in order to compensate for the fact that the box didn't work, it emitted a rather noisy sound that Bars had gotten accustomed to throughout the years. On the other hand, the snoring was not easy to ignore. Exasperated with this exhausting night, Bars decided to use his pet. He stuck his hand into his hiding place and pulled out a small box.
“Are you asleep Mr. Natrapnik?” Bars knocked on the box with a finger, and then he put his ear to it listening to the rustling noise coming from inside. “Apparently, you're awake.”
Of course, Mr. Natrapnik didn't answer him, because he was only a bug that they had caught in a trap. The unfortunate bug had crawled into Bars' ear one night. Bars had been extremely surprised in the morning when he realized that something was moving inside his ear. In the beginning it had simply been interesting, but when he felt the itchy movements were advancing further into his ear, he began to seriously wonder what would happen to his head. Later, Grez helped by pouring a glass of water into his ear, and when the liquid poured back out, out swam Mr. Natrapnik with it. Since then, the stubborn little pest had become his pet and the boys kept it a secret from the rest, hiding it in the box. They regularly supplied it with food and allowed it to crawl on them. Bars had become attached to the little bug and was upset that he would soon have to be separated from it.
“I'm going to let you take a midnight stroll,” said Bars quietly opening the box right over the snoring Toomba.
Mr. Natrapnik crawled out with a little difficulty because in the past few years he had tripled in size. He jumped onto the grubby covers. His dark body slipped somewhere in between the covers while Bars waited with a grin on his face. Besides crawling on every type of surface, the little pest also loved biting hard, that's why just after a few seconds the deep snores were immediately interrupted and room 35 filled with the inhuman yells of Toomba.
“It's eating me! Something's eating me! It's tearing me apart!”
Then Grez's shaggy head came out from under the neighboring covers. Until now, he had been waiting to see if Bars would fаll asleep. Then he reached his hand out toward the jumping Toomba and picked Mr. Intruder off his back. “Stop jumping around already!” he said scolding him. And he carefully gave the bug back to Bars. “Take it before he crushes it.”
“He must have gotten out again,” replied Bars feigning surprise as he put away his pet. Toomba soon calmed down and the room again was quiet. Now he was laying curled up on his mattress trying to scratch the newest red bumps on his body.
“Apparently, I must attract it for some reason,” he explained while sticking out his tongue. With difficulty he tried to reach the latest wounds with his arms twisted at odd angles. “I am telling you that I have developed a connection with that little bug...”
“You do smell, but I don't think that's exactly what attracts him to you,” rejoined Bars.
“Hey, I don't smell that much, do I!...?” Toomba wondered.
“You know you do! That's the reason why I’m sleeping with my head covered,” said Grez yawning.
“I drew a bad lot for bathing, so you'll just have to somehow put up with it for another two months,” Toomba replied in his defense.
“Two months! By then, we will have suffocated, damn you!” said Grez as he pulled away from him.
“Hey, it's been worse, if you remember? Last time, I had to wait three months to take a bath.”
“Yes, but at least that time you hadn't fallen into a septic tank!” said Bars trying to hold back his laughter as he remembered the humiliating sight. After Grez started to laugh, Toomba stopped scratching himself and scowled at him.
“That's in the past, and I won't let it happen again! Stop reminding me about it. Let's talk about what's coming up, more precisely – that someone is going to have to take care of Mr. Natrapnik after Bars leaves us, right? I propose that it be me! As I was already saying, Mr. Natrapnik clearly seeks out my company more than anyone else.”
Immediately the mood in the room changed.
“Is it coming up so soon? How many tremors have there been?” wondered Grez to himself, as he stopped laughing.
“I've counted six so far,” sighed Bars.
“Damn! That means only one remains!” replied Grez stunned.
“I know.” said Bars and then he became silent.
“That's really soon! We also need to decide who will get your bed,” continued Grez thrilled, while Bars' mood continued to worsen.
“I'm taking Mr. Natrapnik and you take Bars' bed? Is that okay?” suggested Toomba.
“No one else in the Fortress has a bug like this! You don't think that I'll let yo
u have it without a fight?!” said Grez angrily looking at Toomba. “We'll flip a coin for it!”
“Oh, no! No way!”
“Why? It's the fairest way.”
“I've never won anything with a coin toss! I know what will happen! You will get the bed and the bug! I don't agree at all! It's not going to happen, and don't even think about it!”
The argument over Bars' precious items developed into a serious fight, that surprisingly turned into a ridiculous wrestling match, because Grez was visibly disgusted by his opponent's odor. Besides stinking, Toomba's body was also heavier, allowing him to prevail in the struggle. Usually, whenever an argument ended in a fight between his roommates, Bars followed it with interest. They often fought over all kinds of foolish things. But this time Bars continued to lay in the bed, that soon wouldn't belong to him anymore, frowning and thoughtful.
And then came the Seventh tremor.
The two wrestling boys froze in place, wrapped in the blankets they had thrown about, and Bars fell with a thump on the floor next to them. Then he stood up in despair, quickly pulling on the rags that were his clothes and rubbed his eyes, tired from endless worrying. It was easy to see, even in the half-darkness, that his light gray hair was more disheveled than ever.
“Don't fight anymore,” said Bars tiredly. “I'm leaving everything to both of you, just trade them back and forth every other day.”
“Yes!” Toomba was pleased with the solution. “That's fair, Bars! That's as it should be – one day I get the bug and the other the bed.”
“We'll take good care of Mr. Natrapnik, don't worry.” added Grez. “He'll grow even bigger.”
Immediately, the lights in the room came on. The sound of the climate box became louder as it switched to its daily settings, but it didn't create any noticeable difference. Bars blinked and squinted cheerlessly while he got used to the light. He clearly felt fatigued from his restless night, but it was too late to rest now. Toomba and Grez got out from under their covers and started dressing quietly. At that moment, the loudspeakers in the living quarters of the Fortress came on and after a few loud crackles, a serious voice was heard saying:
“Attention! It is 04:00 on the fourth day of the Feeding Season of the year 2896. The Seventh tremor has occurred! All boys 17 years old must skip breakfast and in 30 minutes must present themselves at the exit positions for the Descent! Anyone who doesn't present himself will be dealt the most severe punishment! Boys under 17 years old are to proceed to their morning inspection! End of announcement!”
After the voice from the loudspeaker finished, the room became deathly quiet. The carefree years in the Fortress had passed and now Bars had to take a completely different path leading to uncountable dangers. Before he left the room, he turned to his roommates.
“So, that's it, boys! I'm going...I hope that we will meet again,” Bars said quickly in the hopes that neither of them would notice his shaking limbs.
“Good luck, Bars!” replied Grez. Toomba just shook his hand since he was unable to think of anything appropriate to say in farewell. Bars nodded his head, looked around the room that had been his home for the last 14 years, and went out the door.
The corridor started to fill with hungry boys of all ages that were coming out of their rooms. Their still sleepy faces passed by Bars with indifference and continued quickly to the stairs that led to the hall for the morning inspection. Tiny ones and big ones, tall ones and short ones – all of them were hungry and were impatiently looking forward to their breakfast. A breakfast that unfortunately, Bars wasn't going to get today. The stronger bullies pushed the rest aside causing a wave of disapproval and yells that filled the winding corridor. Unlike the rest of them, Bars had to reach the opposite end, but the crowd, which kept increasing in size, made that task difficult.
“Move out the way!” Bars yelled at them, but that didn't seem to help much.
A little guy no more than 6 years old tripped and fell on the floor causing a jam from which Bars succeeded in getting through only by virtue of his strong knees and fists.
“Why are you going in the opposite direction?” asked one of the boys, whose name Bars couldn't remember even though the same boy had often harassed him in the last few weeks.
“I'm making the Descent today,” Bars replied to him.
“Oh! That means there will be more food this morning!” After having made that comment the boy ran to catch up to his friends so that they could work their way forward together pushing and shoving. The flow of rushing boys gradually thinned and now there were only some tykes in the corridor, who wouldn't get any breakfast because they had overslept.
After Bars had successfully gotten past the majority of the floor's population, he stopped to catch his breath and frowned at the sight of his newly torn sleeve.
“Whatever,” he said and continued forward. Soon he wouldn't need these clothes anyway.
The last few rooms that Bars passed had been sealed. No one lived in them making this section of the corridor oppressively quiet and different. Most of the light fixtures had burned out long ago, allowing a half-darkness to reign.
Once he reached the end of the corridor, Bars stood before a big door that had an arrow painted on it. The paint was peeling and in some places was completely missing, but one could still understand that it pointed only down. On the wall beside the door was a button, which began flashing red when Bars pushed it.
During the rest of the year, this elevator was deactivated. Only now, after the Seventh tremor, could it be used, but only by boys that were 17 years old, so that they could reach the hangars where they were prepared for the Descent.
While he waited for the creaking elevator to come, Bars looked over the endless number of names scratched into the door.
“So many have come this way and not one of them has had my name?!” pondered Bars and started to search for an appropriate piece of metal, with which to perpetuate his symbols. Unfortunately, he couldn't find anything appropriate for this important task among all the trash that was scattered around.
When the elevator arrived and the metal doors opened, Bars sighed disappointed. He entered reluctantly because an unpleasant chill emanated from inside. He looked at the control panel. While he wondered what to do, the door suddenly closed and the elevator started descending on its own. The interior was almost as big as his favorite room 35, but that didn't give Bars any comfort since he preferred the stairs.
As the floors slowly went by, the elevator descended farther down. After it passed still more of them, the floor stuck in place, and a whole cloud of rust fell from the ceiling. Bars started to cough loudly while the door opened and in front of him appeared a boy.
The corridor behind him was full of smoke and flickering flames. From somewhere came frightening screams that succeeded in shouting over the fire alarm. The boy quickly slipped inside and the doors closed. The elevator continued its descent again. After Bars had succeeded in catching his breath, he looked at his fellow passenger with wonder.
“A little fire,” replied the boy. “Sometimes they happen, you know?”
Bars only nodded his head, but with every passing floor his doubts grew. There was something wrong with this boy with the raven black hair and an overwhelmingly wide smile.
“I'm Thirteen, if you're still wondering,” said the boy as he dusted some ash off of his shoulder.
Bars' limbs trembled and unexpectedly he took a step to the side without noticing it. The boy next to him was not like the others.
He was different but in a dangerous way.
Thirteen was well-known for his incredible luck – thanks to which he had cheated death several times. And he alone had succeeded in escaping unharmed from the worst incidents that he was involved in while the others involved weren't that lucky. On top of everything, every one of his roommates either got sick or had some other unfortunate thing happen to them. The stories connected to Thirteen c
irculated among the floors of the Fortress in no time, and with every repetition they become more frightening. With the years, the boys in the Fortress who knew him personally drastically decreased, and the rest hoped that they would never meet him since they feared that he would bring a curse upon them.
“Where are you going?” Bars dared to ask.
“The same place as you,” grinned Thirteen. “There isn't room for me anymore in the Fortress.”
Bars choked.
“Are you okay? You don't look so good, you know!” Thirteen asked while patting him on the back.
“I've been better!” replied Bars and jumped back a meter, leaning his back against the wall. “How many floors are left?”
“Who knows? The numbers on the doors wore off long ago.”
The elevator suddenly stopped again and Bars and Thirteen's heads were covered in dust and filth. The door opened and there were three boys standing there. One of them tried to enter, but his friends caught him by the arm and pulled him back.
“Come on, get in quickly!” said Thirteen inviting them in, while he was patting the coughing Bars on the back.
“In order for us to get on, you have to get off,” said the largest of them darkly. And when Bars recognized his voice, he shuddered.
“Why? There's enough room for all of us,” replied Thirteen bewildered.
“Get out immediately!” This time the request was serious.
The metal doors abruptly closed without warning. The elevator continued to descend.
“That was close!” sighed Thirteen.
“Now they'll have to wait for the elevator to return to their floor, after we get off. They'll most likely be late.” Bars finally succeeded in clearing his throat and taking a breath.
“Yes, but we'll succeed in being on time,” grinned Thirteen. “Apparently, luck is on our side!”
And at that moment with a loud noise, the elevator stuck between floors. The lights blinked a few times, but didn’t went out.
Bars looked fiercely at the boy, who had incredible luck, and regretted a thousand times that he had been slowed by the jam in the corridor. If he had arrived at the elevator earlier, he would have passed by Thirteen's floor, before Thirteen had had the chance to push the button. He was sure that his fellow passenger was the reason for their current situation of being stuck.
“Okay!” said Thirteen, after the elevator continued to stay in one place. “Apparently, we'll stay here forever..., I mean to say – we will stay here together for a time. We can use this time to get to know one another. After all, we'll be on the Descent together...You're Bars, right?”
“Hellooo!” Bars jumped to the door and started to bang on it desperately, even though there was little chance that it would have any effect. “We're stuck between floors! If there's anyone there, please open the doors! Open the damn dooooors!” Then he listened intently for an eventual reply, which, of course, didn't come and he felt foolish. The doors were too thick and however much he yelled, absolutely nobody was going to hear him...even if there was someone there.
“That's not going to work! But there is another way to get us out of here, Bars.” Then Thirteen started to jump up and down with all his strength on the metal floor. “Sometimes the brakes get jammed...”
“Are you crazy!?!” Bars yelled, trying to keep his balance while the elevator shook. “Stop it now!”
Thirteen understood that it was not helping so he stopped jumping. He crossed his arms and said gloomily, “OK, what do you suggest?”
“Let's just wait. Today's the Descent, right!? Someone has to come and then they will open the doors. Until then – no jumping or sudden movements!”
“I don't believe that it will happen exactly like that, Bars.”
“What? Why wouldn't it?”
“Don't you know what happened a few years ago?” Thirteen frowned at the remembrance.
“No. What are you talking about?” Bars didn't like the look on the boy’s face at all.
“It was a few years ago, again during the time of the Descent. Several boys got stuck between floors, just like us now.”
“See! That means it's happened before. This mechanism is quite old after all and they'll need to repair it from time to time. They'll come any moment and get us out of here,” Bars said trying to smile while the floor still swung back and forth.
“I hope we make it to the Descent on time. Those other boys, unfortunately, didn't succeed in making it. The chief technicians opened the doors several months later. On account of the breakdown, the rest of the boys' descent was delayed and they were late. That would be the worst case scenario.”
“How do you know all this!” Bars' state of discomfort increased immensely and he slowly started to panic.
“I helped them open the door.”
“The chief technicians weren't able to?! And you helped them?” Bars said amazed.
“Yup!” Thirteen nodded unable to comprehend why Bars was so surprised.
“Hmm ... why don't you open it now?” Bars suggested to him.
“It's impossible from the inside,” shrugged Thirteen helplessly.
“Three hundred shriveled slugs!” disappointedly yelled Bars. “What are we going to do? No matter how hard you jump, nothing’s going to change!”
“I have a better idea – we'll jump together! And we'll keep jumping until this damn elevator starts moving again!!”
Thirteen started to jump up and down as hard as he could, while Bars looked on horrified. When he understood that was no talking his fellow passenger out of it, he decided to join in on the risky idea, just to see if it would work. Especially since the alternative was to stay so long in the elevator that they would be forgotten and eventually begin to rot. It was an easy decision. The elevator began to shake fiercely as the two boys continued to take out their anger on it.
“Just like that! Keep it up!” Thirteen was honestly enjoying his plan.
And all of a sudden, the floor began to move. After a little convulsion, the tortured elevator began to descend again.
“That did it!” proclaimed Bars giving a joyful yell. “We won't even be late for the Descent!”
“Together, we're an awesome jumping force!” said Thirteen satisfied.
And at that moment, the elevator jammed again with such a noise that made one think that it had died forever. The lights blinked a few times and this time went out.
Chapter 2