A/N: My second Malec fanfiction I hope you like it! AND ALL HUMAN!

WARNING! BoyxBoy!

I do not own the characters, Cassandra Clare does!

Chapter One – The Imprisonment

"This is for your own good," father said as he closed the door. His voice was cold and unloving. I should not have been suprised, though. My parents never really loved me. I was never beautiful like Isabelle, or charming and handsome like Jace. Even as a kid, I hadn't been as adorable as Max was. I was just a book nerd, reading and writing and dreaming of a better life. People used to be jealous of me because my parents had money and a big house, but I would have changed my family right away, if I had had a chance. Our family had always been broken: our parents barely speaking to each other, mom drowning to her work and dad fooling around with other women, me being quiet and isolated, Izzy sleeping around with every single guy she found, and Jace breaking dozens of hearts. Now, as my parents were sending me away, I didn't know how Max would survive. He was still young, only ten.

The grey car started moving. I was sitting in the back, the doors being locked so that I wouldn't run away. I stared at my littlesister from the back window. Her black hair was floating in the air, and she was holding her hand in front of her mouth. I could see, that she was trying not to cry. Jace was holding her, quietly staring at me with his golden eyes full of sadness. And then Max, waving and smiling at me, for he only thought that I was going to a vacation. That I would be coming back soon. I turned my eyes away from my siblings as I felt the hot tears rolling down my cheeks. No matter how much I hated my parents, I still loved my siblings.

"I'm really sorry, Alexander," Mr. Starkweather said. He was my fathers private driver.

"Don't be. There's nothing you can do," I answered and closed my eyes. The air was heavy, and I felt like being underwater, not getting enough air. Even when my eyes were closed, the tears found their way to my cheeks. But I didn't care. I just sat there my eyes closed, and at some point, I fell asleep.

I woke up as the car stopped. My neck hurt for sleeping in such an uncomfortable position.

"We are here," Mr. Starkweather said and got out of the car. As he opened the door for me, I saw from his face that he was in emotional pain. He looked older than usually, his grey hair framing his face. I only nodded, not wanting to say anything, and got out of the car.

The building in front of us was huge. It was made of red bricks, and it was surrounded by a cast iron fence, which was over two meters high. There was a dull-looking yard in front of the building, and it had no grass or trees in it. It was only an asphalt field with few dirty benches. There was a sign right beside the massive gates. "Halocastle – a sanitarium for young men" it said. It wasn't really a mental hospital. It was a place where narrow-minded parents sent their children. It was a place for people like me. For boys, who happened to like other boys instead of girls.

There was someone waiting for me at the gates. He was a guard, I think. Mr. Starkweather patted me to my shoulder and smiled sadly as he left. I watched as the car drove away, taking my last pieces of hope with it. I turned my head to the guard. He had yellowish-blonde hair and strong jaw. He was wearing dark blue trousers and a white shirt, and his nametag said "Scott". He seemed nice.

"Don't look at me like that, faggot," the guard said with deep voice. I mentally made a note to myself not to look at any of the guards longer than five seconds.

"Now listen to me, fag. Go trough that door and they'll give you some clothes. If you're tame enough, they may even tell you where your room is," the guard said and laughed. I just nodded and walked to the direction he had pointed at.

There were three men inside. First one of them asked me all kind of questions, like what was my name, where did I come from, and did I have any allergies. The second man handed me a pile of clothes: two shirts, a t-shirt, pair of jeans and some underwear. He said that I needed to change my own clothes to them as soon as I got to my room. The last man gave me a key which had a number on it. He said that the number was my room's number, and pointed to the way the room was located. I nodded and headed towards the corridor he was pointing at.

The door closed behind me, and I looked around. The corridor was dark, and there were dozens of rooms in it. I checked the number on my key: 1853. I looked at the numbers, painted on the wooden doors. 1849, 1850, 1851, 1852, and there it was, 1853. The door was dark, and the numbers were white. The doorhandle was a bit rusty, but I didn't really care. I just wanted out of the creepy hallway. I used the key to open the door, and stepped inside.

I was suprised to see that there were two beds there. I didn't know, I'd have a room mate. I closed the door behind me, and looked around. Except that there wasn't really anything to look. The room was tiny, way smaller than my room at my parents house. There was no bathroom or WC, only the two beds and a shared nightstand. The lamp that was hanging above my head was very dim, and there was no windows giving us any daylight. The beds were narrow, and the sheets were ugly grey. The floor was grey also, and the walls and the ceiling were white. There was nothing on the walls, just plain whiteness.

I put my pile of clothes on my bed. Then I made sure that I closed the door properly. After that, I quickly stripped off my own clothes, and put on the jeans and another one of the shirts I had been given. I sat down and noticed that there was a paper on the nightstand. I took it in my hands and read it.

"Hey Noob faggot!

After you've changed your clothes, you must come to the training room. Everyone else is probably eating at that time, but since you haven't done anything yet, you will not be given any food. So, because you're a noob, you obviously don't have a clue, where the training room is. That is the only reason, I'm writing this note to you. You need to walk to the same direction you came from, and as you reach the room where the other guards gave you your clothes, there should be a huge sign that tells you where to go. And I say SHOULD, because some of our other fags may have wanted to make a joke. Anyway, I don't really care how, but you have to arrive to the training room. No exceptions.

Certainly not yours,

Woolsey Scott"

I blinked my eyes few times. I was used to being called by names, but it still shocked me that the guards were allowed to humiliate us like that. Luckily, the letter had been private and no one else had seen it, but I still had a bad feeling about Woolsey Scott.

For once, the good luck was with me, because the sign to the training room had been in it's right place. I had followed it to a hallway that only led to one door. I had opened it, and what I saw, was something that I hadn't been expecting. The room was just like any classroom. It had about thirty school desks and chairs, and an open space in the front.

I took a seat from the back row, feeling anxious. There was no one else in the room, but I was actually quite happy about it. I hadn't met any other people, besides the guards, so I didn't really know what to expect. I closed my eyes and leaned my head to the desk.

"So you are the new one," I heard a voice say. I lifted my head, and saw a white-haired boy looking at me. He had silver eyes, and he looked a bit asian.

"Uhm... Yes?" I answered. I felt really stupid, but I couldn't help it. It had always been hard for me to talk to strangers. It made me feel awkward.

"My name is James, but everyone calls me Jem," The silver boy said and offered his hand. Alec shook it, and said:

"I'm Alec,"

"Nice to meet you, Alec. And welcome to the hell-holecas— I mean, Halocastle,"

A/N:

So, this is my second fanfic, and I must say that I'm more excited about this one I don't know why, but I just am!

This fic will be a bit darker than my earlier, and it is rated M, for I will be using strong language all the way through, and some of the scenes may be a bit... Well, you'll see ;)

Tell me your opinions by rewieving. What did you like, and what did you hate? Because you can make me become a better writer I also will mention, that English is not my first language, so there might be some spelling mistakes. AND the next chapters will be longer!

Thank you!

Love,

William Dean