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Fifteen days he'd been stuck here, a captive - he'd kept careful track, with the well-hidden notches he'd made on the wall of his cell. He didn't want the days to start blurring together, even though they were... uncomfortably similar. When they did... well, that would be a worry. But Raleigh chose not to think on that - if he did, he'd go mad. He had to stay focused. Keep his wits about him. That was the only way he was going to get the fuck out of this alive.
He'd heard rumors about this group - the Cutters. Supposedly, they were cannibals, though Raleigh hadn't seen anything overtly that would indicate any truth to those claims. They were a brutal and vicious lot, certainly - though more in the way that mangy, savage dogs were, rather than something truly insidious. They fought amongst one another a lot, as he'd observed. Raleigh made careful mental notes of everything he thought might be important - when the guards changed, when they brought the slop they called food, what the men and women assigned to this post looked like. He'd even learned some of their names.
The one usually stuck at the cells was called Curley - a piggish-looking fellow, with an upturned nose and jutting teeth. Ugly as sin and dumb as a box of rocks, but he was big, broad, and hit damn hard. Raleigh himself had copped plenty of whollops to the head from that one.
Drumming his gloved fingers against the ground, Raleigh sat, slumped against the log wall. The man exhaled a slow breath, letting his eyes shutter closed. *Porter must be looking for me.* He assured himself. A grimace fluttered across Raleigh's face as he hung his head, hands balling into his fists. *Fuck sake, Raleigh. You can't rely on your brother saving you every fucking time.*
Even now, as a man grown, Porter was still the one busting down doors and pulling him out of the fire.
No. Not this time. He wasn't going to let Porter get himself killed trying to rescue him. He'd find his own fucking way out, or die trying. Raleigh refused to be a burden. He had to be strong.
A creaking and shuffled footsteps announced the approach of two bodies. Eyes snapping open, Raleigh's pale gaze trained on the door to his cell, a flicker of trepidation sparking within him. One of the Cutters stopped, dragging a squirming body along behind her. The woman - he'd seen this one before, a pretty blonde that looked far more angelic than she was - delivered a sharp clout to the back of the person's head. "Stop your fuckin' squirming!" She barked, unlocking the cell and booting the individual in the back, sending the poor fucker sprawling forward into a heap before him. Raleigh pressed himself harder against the wall, eyes widening as he took in the details of the slumped form before him.
"Looks like you got a new cellmate, pretty boy," The blonde woman sneered, locking the door again as she barked out a harsh laugh. "You behave now." Snorting to herself, the woman strode off, leaving Raleigh alone with the stranger.
Clearing his throat awkwardly, Raleigh shuffled forward, moving into a crouch. "Er, hi." He began, mentally wincing at how halted he sounded. "You... alright? Need a hand?" Asked he, offering his hand out to help the person up.
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