Amos: A Dangerous Game_A Vision of Fire

Just before the attack on the prison.

Amos groaned awake, slowly looking up as he strained to keep his eyes open.

I... fell asleep? he thought to himself. When'd I—

Suddenly he coughed, then heaved, spitting up blood as the spasms ripped through him. His agony echoed across the stone walls like chants from a crowd eager to hear screams. Again! They cried. Again! Again! Blood filled his throat. His insides burned. Again! Again!

Enough! Amos roared in his thoughts. He coughed again but this time because of his will, God, or something in between it was the last. His battered chest pulled in breaths slowly.

Inhale. Exhale.

It's getting worse, he thought to himself. The affirmation burned his insides again as he spat out the leftover blood in his mouth.

He hated being this weak.

The truth was he'd used too much strength on the kid. He knew his connection to Reema was getting weaker, and this was just more proof. He sucked his teeth. Damn that clergy boy. How'd a sniveling, naïve little shit like him even get thrown in here? He took a breath. No... that wasn't important. The real question was how'd a sniveling, naïve little shit like him use Reema? Alone. Most people didn't even know what it was let alone how to use it, and no one should be able to use it without a partner.

Well, no one except for him.

He'd been here for a while sure, but could so much really have changed?

He paused at that. How long has it been?

It seemed like months, maybe even years had passed since he first came here. He hadn't even seen the sun since the last time he'd gotten out and that felt so long ago. Now his life was just darkness. Darkness and these nails. He snarled, thrashing against his restraints.

These fucking nails.

"Now, now," an eerily pleasant voice called out to him. "Try not to get too excited."

Suddenly a figure stepped out of the shadows lurking in the corner of Amos's cell. A man with pale skin, sunken eyes, and dark oily hair. It was a man he knew all too well.

"I'd hate for you to hurt yourself," the warden said with a smile.

Amos gave him a dry look. "You're not real."

The warden shrugged. "So what if I'm not?" he said, slowly making his way over to Amos. His hands clasped behind his back. "I must be real enough to count right?"

Amos turned his gaze away. "You're not real."

The warden smiled again. He kept coming closer. A step apart. A breath apart. He brought a hand to Amos's cheek. "Real enough that your broken little mind still thinks about me, even when I'm gone."

Amos took a deep breath, pulling his head from the warden's hand. "You're not real."

"Real enough..." the warden said, ignoring Amos as his hand drifted along his chest, to his arm, to one of the circular scars, tracing it with his finger. "... to leave a mark."

Amos's eyes went wild. He was panting now, grunting as he tried to pull away from the warden's hand.

"There he is," the warden said, clapping his hands together. "The beast everyone fears."

"Get the fuck away from me."

The warden took a step back. "Oh, so testy today," he said with a grin. "Though I can't imagine why." He was pacing in front of Amos now. "I mean, I've always fancied myself a hunter, and you put up such a good fight last time. I thought it only fitting, poetic really, to mount your corpse on my wall."

"I'm gonna kill you," Amos said.

"Oh, but I'm just so fickle these days! I can never decide how many nails I should use." He brought a hand up to Amos's. "Some days I want more." His hand drifted to the farthest mark on Amos's bicep. "Some days I want less. It's all so confusing." He started to trace along the scar again. "But since you do such a nifty job at healing I only assumed you wouldn't mind."

"I'm gonna fucking kill you!" Amos screamed.

Suddenly the warden sprung to life, clamping down on Amos's arm and mouth. "You're not gonna do a damn thing boy," the warden said, his tone low and dark. "And you wanna know why? Because I own you, down to the very last fiber attached to your bones. You were given to me freely, and that makes you mine, so I will pluck and place as many nails from you as I want until I get bored. Then I'll just toss you out, sell you, feed you to my dogs, or whatever the fuck else I feel like doing to you, because you, are, mine."

Amos was screaming underneath the warden's hand. His eyes burning with rage, as he struggled against the nails.

"Oh, I bet you can hear it even now can't you?" the warden said, closing his eyes. "The sound of hammers striking iron, of nails piercing flesh and breaking bone! Tell me you can hear it!"

Amos closed his eyes, shaking his head as he fought off the memories bombarding him. The blood that stained his mind and haunted his cell. The nails forced through him and ripped out again and again.

"Tell me!"

God, he could hear it, beating in the back of his mind. Pounding. Breaking. Again! Again!

No! he screamed in his thoughts as the shrill noise consumed him. Then he paused. No... those aren't nails. He focused his mind. The warden was right about one thing. Amos did heal well, impossibly well. Fixing wounds that would've taken weeks to heal on their own in just a few moments, and it was thanks to Reema, but it was so much more than that. Over the years it had become the core of his strength. It made him stronger and sharpened his senses. Even locked underground he could still make out the noises from the surface, and those weren't nails he was hearing.

Those were screams.

Amos smiled.

Finally.

The warden sucked his teeth, letting go of Amos as his image blurred before fading back into the shadows. Don't think you got rid of me just yet, the warden's voice said in his head. It doesn't matter what's going on up there! You're never getting off this wall! Amos looked over at his hand nailed into the stone.

"Watch me," he said.

He took a breath, clearing his mind. His connection to the Reema was weak but it wasn't gone, and he needed it now. Come, he boomed in his thoughts. Then he felt it. The power, the rage, flowing through him, like his blood was boiling in his veins. His body tensed up, as he felt the Reema bucking and fighting to get out, but he held it, maintained it. He needed this strength, but still... is this really all I can manage? He cursed at himself. Then he shook his head. It didn't matter. It would be enough. It had to be.

He focused the bit of Reema moving throughout his body into his right arm. It's muscles began to bulge as the power ran through them. He took one more deep breath, then started pulling against the nail. He gritted his teeth, grunting as he struggled to yank his hand free. What did I tell you? The warden said in his head. You'll never get off this wall.

"Shut... up," Amos spat back, his voice wavering from the effort.

It's only the truth. The warden said. And don't act like you don't know it. I know how you really feel. After all, I'm in your head.

"Shut up!" Amos said again, as his sweat started to drip onto the floor. Reema was burning inside him, like molten rock melting his stomach. His arm was trembling from the effort, as a warm trail of blood started to leak from his nose. The strain was too much. He couldn't maintain this.

"No!" Amos roared, "I can do this!"

Don't lie! The warden said. You can't do this and you know it!

"Shut up!"

You're just an abandoned toy. Too ignorant to know your place.

"You're wrong!"

You're too weak.

"No!"

Too stupid.

"No!"

Too broken!

"I said shut up!"

Suddenly the stone cracked as the nail jutted out of the wall. It wasn't all the way out but it was loose. Loose enough that one more good pull would free his hand. He hunched over, panting as the Reema within him faded. He'd have to rest for a few moments before he could summon the strength to free himself. Congratulations, the warden said. Now you've just got two more to go! Then you just have to do something about that pesky locked door and you're home free! The warden laughed at that. Gosh, I should've brought a key with me!

Suddenly, Amos heard the metal door in the hallway open and guards walk inside. Huh... maybe I did bring a key. The warden said. Just try to make this entertaining for me would you? There's not much else to do in here.

"— and why the hell'd you bring a chain with you Roni?" one guard said.

"I don't know... in case... we need to secure him... or somethin'," Roni said.

"He's nailed to the fucking wall moron. How much more secure is he gonna get? Besides we've got all these extra nails anyway, so what the fuck were you gonna do with that chain?" the other guard replied.

"Well shit Jim I don't know! I just don't like the idea of the two of us being the only ones down here, ok!"

"He's. Nailed. To. The. Wall. God, y'know what just give me the damn chain before you hurt yourself. Maybe I'll just hit him with it or somethin'."

"Fine! I'm just tryna be careful is all! I don't even know why we're worried about him with all hell breaking loose up there!"

"We're worried about him cause we got orders to be worried about him. And all you're doing is giving me an aneurysm so shut it."

"An... an anyur-what?"

There was a brief pause.

"Just move."

Amos smiled as he heard the guards approaching. Giving your names and numbers right where I can hear you? He thought to himself. That's just sloppy. He cracked his neck. If these two were amateurs he could make this work. The two guards stopped in front of his cell. One of them was carrying a bucket of stakes and a hammer. Amos couldn't help but glare at it.

"God, would you look at that. The holes from last time really did heal," one of the guards said. So you're Roni, Amos thought to himself.

"Guy's a freak," the other guard said as he opened the cell door and walked in. "But that's why we're finally putting him down." Which makes you Jim.

"Putting me down?" Amos asked.

Jim smiled. "That's right," he said taking the bucket from Roni. "I know it's better than an animal like you deserves, but there's a bit of a situation goin' on right now, so we've all got to make sacrifices."

Amos laughed at that. "I'm the animal?" he said. "I'm not the one nailing people to walls—"

"You shut your mouth!" Roni cut in. "You know damn well why you're up there!"

Amos yawned. "Honestly, it's been such a long time I'm not really sure I remember."

"Well look at the pair on you," Jim said, setting down the bucket and wrapping some of the chain around his hand. "It takes a special kind of shit stain to forget murdering seven men. Seven good, decent men."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realize that black market guards and torturers counted as 'good, decent men'," Amos said with a grin. "I must've missed that announcement." Amos could see the anger brewing in Jim's eyes. Just one more push. "Besides, if they didn't want me to kill them they shouldn't have made it so easy. It was kinda pathetic really. A couple of them cried."

"You dirty son of a bitch!" Jim screamed. "Why don't I peel some of your skin off and see if you remember missin' that huh?"

"Oh, I don't know Jim," Amos said. "I think Roni's right, you don't really have time for that with all your friends dying upsta—"

"That's enough!" Jim roared, cracking Amos across the face with the chain. Amos's head snapped to the side before sagging down, hiding his face.

"Open your mouth again and I'll fuckin' break your jaw!" Jim said.

"Alright," Roni cut in, "let's... let's just put these nails in and—"

"Nah, y'know what? He's right about somethin'," Jim said. "We ain't got time for that bullshit."

"What? Jim—"

"Just shut up Roni!" Jim said. "What's the point of putting all those extra fucking nails in anyway!" He started walking closer, drawing his sword. "I'm just gonna put him down right now, and do the world a service by taking him out quick."

Amos started to laugh.

"What? You that excited to die?" Jim asked.

"That's not why I'm laughing," Amos said.

"Then what the hell's so funny?"

"I'm laughing because you lost the game."

"Game?" Jim said, turning to face Roni. "This guy's fucking insane."

"It's always been a game," Amos said. "A game between me and the warden. A game to see who could last longer." He lifted his head as he felt Reema flowing through him again. Roni's face twisted in horror as he caught the red glow in Amos's eyes.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

"And if you wanted to play," Amos said, "then you should've put the other nails back in."

Amos ripped his hand out of the wall. Before Jim had time to react Amos grabbed his head, lifting him up and pushing his thumb through his eye, before biting into his neck. Jim screamed as Amos's teeth dug deeper into his flesh. Struggling to get Amos off, Jim drove his sword into Amos's gut. The pain was intense but Amos refused to let go, digging deeper into Jim's skin, until with a groan he ripped the meat from his neck. Blood poured onto the floor, spilling onto Amos and Roni.

Roni panicked. Screaming, he tried to turn and run out of the cell, but the blood under his boots made him lose his footing. As Jim fell, Amos reached down and snatched the chain from his hand. He wrapped a bit around his own hand before quickly whipping it around Roni's neck. Amos pulled it tight, strangling Roni as it held him up. Roni tried to find his footing again but there was too much blood. His eyes began to bulge as he struggled for breath, until with a final pull Amos snapped his neck.

Amos let go of the chain, letting Roni's body hit the ground. He stared at the bloody mess on the floor, panting. The Reema within him started to fade, but he fought to maintain it. No... not yet, he thought to himself, I'm not done.

He placed his free hand on his wound taking quick, deep breaths before he closed his eyes and channeled Reema to it. He groaned behind clenched teeth as the wound started to burn, like hot iron was searing his skin. Faint wisps of smoke started to rise from between his fingers. Not yet! He screamed in his head. Not yet!

Burnt flesh tainted the air as pain burst from his stomach. He could feel himself passing out. Not yet! Not yet! Just a little more!

His blood started to sizzle. Sweat dripped to the floor. Another second. Another moment. Fuck! He let the Reema fade from the wound.

He gasped dropping his hand as his head sagged down. The sweat from his body forming puddles beneath him. He hadn't closed the wound all the way, but he'd handled the worst of the damage. He'd live. For now.

Oh that was exciting! The warden said in his head. A little graphic towards the end there but you gotta do what you gotta do right? He started to laugh.

Amos started to chuckle too. "I'm... so glad... you were entertained," he said, panting. "Seems like... I was right... in the end though."

Oh please! It wouldn't be any fun if there wasn't at least a little drama, but we both know I'm still right. You were abandoned and now you're too weak and too broken to be useful. There's only one thing left for you to be now—

"And that's mine," the warden said, his form spawning from the shadows as he leaned in to whisper in Amos's ear. "Because once you go out there you'll break apart, all on your own. Then you'll see. You're better off down here, buried and on my leash."

His smile grew wide as he stared into Amos's eyes.

"But!" The warden said, suddenly jumping back as he clapped his hands together. " I'll just wait until then! In the meantime what's the next move? I don't think those two are gonna help you get out of here," he said turning and pointing at the bodies. "Especially Jim. He's got a bit of a chip on his shoulder," he cocked his head to the side, "or I guess that's his neck."

"Now," Amos said, before pulling in a deep breath. "Now, I'm gonna catch my breath." He felt the Reema start to flow through him again. "And then, I'll do it again."

He then spent what felt like hours pulling the other nails out of his body, until he finally collapsed onto the floor. His wound started to bleed again, but no where near as bad as before. He crawled over to Jim ripping some of the clothes off his body and using the fabric to bind his wound. He knew he had to keep moving but there was no strength in his legs. He hadn't used them in weeks. Pushing Reema through his muscles regularly was the only stimulation he could manage on the wall, and he could barely keep that up. Come on! He cursed at himself. No excuses, just stand up! Grunting in agony, he struggled to stand until willpower alone brought him to his feet.

He looked over at Jim and Roni. He wanted to take their armor but the uniforms would call too much attention to himself. Besides, he wasn't even sure if he could handle the extra weight. I'll just settle for the sword, he thought, picking up Roni's weapon. Once that was done he stumbled over to the cell door, holding on to it as he struggled to catch his breath. He couldn't stop now.

The warden might be right about him being weak, but he was not abandoned.

His father wouldn't leave him.

Now he just had to find him. Find him and return.