Part 1.
She fought back the torrent that threatened to break loose. In front of her was the man that she both most wanted to see and wished had never shown. That fact that everything seemed to be going the exact way that man had planned it, terrified her. She knew Alex was powerful, probably more than she truly understood, and she knew that he could be truly ruthless when it was needed. She also knew that he wasn’t invincible. Alex had one glaring weakness, her.
She understood that their enemies would do everything that they could to exploit that weakness, and she was helpless to do anything about it. If Alex moved to attack, she would die. She had been told that much before all the chaos had started. She was also told that if Alex gave up, her life would be spared. She didn’t believe them, but that was the bait, that little piece of dangling hope attached to the stick.
She wanted to scream to him, “Kill me! Save yourself!” She wasn’t foolish enough to believe think that was something he would do, but again there was that hope. Not for her, but for him, for the man, she loved more than anyone else. If it meant that he could survive this whole ordeal, she would gladly trade her life for his. What is the worst that could happen from it? She would move on to the next life. Maybe be able to take some time to rest in the great tree and see Kenzō and Tamamo again. Tell them about how she fell in love with this great man from another world. It didn’t sound all that bad to her.
Though, even if she wanted to, she couldn’t so much as utter a single word. There would be no plea for death, no warning to offer him. It would all be snuffed out in her throat. It was all because of that damned collar they had put around her neck. A solid black metal collar, with a rune in the center. It would light up and cause incredible pain any and every time she tried to make a sound. All she could do was helplessly watch Alex unknowingly bet their future, their lives, on the chance that he could win this fight.
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In the forest, when the men ambushed her, she wanted to fight back, to command her space and save herself. That didn’t happen though, it couldn’t happen. When she tried to summon up the mana in her exhausted body, her body fought back against her. Her instinct told her, “Any more and you will die”, so she held back. Without mana, she was only as strong as a grade schooler. Her fragile limbs could do nothing against the strength of a grown adult, especially an adult as big as that man. He was larger than most of the Leomen back home, who boasted about being one of the physically strongest of the Beastmen races. Whether or not he was actually stronger than them, didn’t matter right now though, because she was even comparable. He easily grabbed her and without a wasted moment, threw her into a coarse, dark burlap sack. It was as if her nightmare was repeating itself.
Within the bag, she could not tell where she was or how long it had been. Every time she made a sound, there would come a fist. The hits were heavy and painful, they would cause her to cry out, which would only be met with another harder hit. It didn’t take her long to force herself to be quiet, and when she did make a noise, to brace herself for what came next. This went on for some time, till the hits came because she was too quiet, and all she could do was ball up to protect herself as best she could, crying to herself quietly, and holding out hope that it would all end soon.
She had, at some point, passed out from the lack of sleep that had caught up with her. Her body was racked with pain, and she could see that she was now covered in welts and bruises from the beating that had taken place. With each shake of the bag, the pressure would be applied to a different spot giving a reoccurring sensation of pain that accompanied each stride of the bag handler.
Eventually, the movement stopped and there was a muffled conversation being had. She couldn’t quite make out any of the words being said, probably attributed to her lack of real sleep. The voices then stopped, and the bag was forcibly moved and slammed on the ground. The top was open, and with it a flood of light came pouring in, blinding her sensitive eyes that had been accustomed to the darkness for this whole time.
“Good… good. You men did well. Have my aide pay you your reward.”
The voice was eerily familiar, and it sent a chill down her spine. Memories of the angry noble in the library returned to her, then the chill became horror. She had been caught by the worst possible person. “Just wait till Alex finds out!” was her first thought. The idea of her Hero coming to her rescue kept hope alive in her heart.
“You three, send her to her new chambers. I’ll be there soon.” The same man said again before the lights went out. The bag had been resealed, and she felt it lift again. Luckily for her, it was three men this time and the movements were stable, and there was no hitting involved.
After a much shorter time in the bag, it was reopened, and she was lifted out. She found herself in a gaudily decorated room with a canopy bed made of white colored wood and a pink sheer drape. Two large multi-paned windows ran parallel from the ceiling to the floor. There were other elaborate furnishings laden with gold and precious gems.
After her three escorts left the room, a young woman, in loose-fitting clothing came in from a side room. She moved as if she was gliding through the air rather than walking on the ground. She came to Lili, looking her over from top to bottom. Her touch was gentle, and it brought a strange relaxing feeling to her, but Lili found herself unable to do that. While her touch was gentle, her look was sad, full of pity for the new toy her master had found.
The woman then escorted her into another room. Inside was a large bath made mostly of white tiles with decorative gems and colored tiles laid in a decorative manner which accentuated the owner’s immense stolen wealth. It was full of steaming water and fluffy bubbles that had a flowery fragrance. Lili was stripped of her clothing, revealing the extent of the damage that had been inflicted over her journey inside the bag. She was gently escorted into the pool of warm water where she was bathed and then marinated in fragrant oils to the point it was burning her nose.
She was removed from the water then dried off and escorted back into the other room. Laying on the bed naked, a green ointment was then applied to all of the wounds on her body. There was a warm sensation wherever it was applied, and after a short time the welts would diminish and the bruises cleared, then she turned over as ordered by the lady, and the same was applied to her backside. Overall, the whole process took no more than ten minutes.
Now that she was physically better, a man in a fine suit had entered the room, and with him was a large tray of food. There was an assortment of fruits, cheeses, and slices of cured meats. For a drink, she was given a goblet of fragrant juice, which was both sweet and slightly intoxicating. Though she was in what she considered to be enemy territory, her stomach overpowered her sense of reason, and she consumed it as if it were her last meal. Once she was done, she laid back down on the fluffy mattress and stared up at the elaborately decorated ceiling.
To say that she was comfortable would be a crime, but she was far less anxious than she had been before, such was the power of a bath and a meal on the body. She seemed to have relaxed enough at this point where she was finding it difficult to keep her eyes open. Eventually, the mix of exhaustion and lulling comfort of the mattress under her caused her eyes to shut and the only sound in the room was her soft cooing.
“That sounds the most reasonable.”
“You think he will come?”
“I hope he does if he is that strong.”
“Just make sure you take care of him when he does!”
“With pleasure boss.”
“Now, we just need to deal with her.”
“Simple, take some now and send it off. As long as she is healthy you will have a never-ending supply. If you are smart, you can even start your own farm.” The last comment caused a few of the voices to let out a disturbingly grotesque laugh.
She could hear the sound of men talking just above her. She didn’t dare to open her eyes, the fear that alerting them to her consciousness would bring back the pain drove her to keep up a perfect sleeping act. From what she heard, she could only assume that they were discussing the possibility of Alex coming to her rescue, a thought that seemed to lighten her heart. As for the last few remarks, she didn’t quite understand what that meant, what were they going to take, and what did it mean by starting a farm? The concept was beyond her, but she didn’t stir. “I’m asleep. I’m asleep. I’m asleep.” She kept repeating in her head.
“You can open your eyes now.” Said a deep burly voice. “Your breathing changed; you can’t hide from me. Hehehe”
It belonged to the man she had met in the forest. His was just as imposing now as he was then. He let out a grin that meant nothing good. It brought back the memories of being shoved in the bag only to be smack around all the way here. She wanted to scream but feared the retribution for letting her voice escape.
“Stop scaring her. She is mine! I had to use expensive medicine to fix her after what you boys did.” Said a shorter, much shorter, man, next to him.
It was the same man that had accosted her in the library back in Faustus. The man who was responsible for all her recent misery. Platz was staring at her, eyes full of glee. He had one hand caressing himself while the other was wrapped around behind his back. The last man that spoke was the same man that had brought in the food earlier. He was still wearing the same tidy suit as before and was wearing a charming smile that brought her no comfort.
“Now little girl,” Started Platz. “I am sure that violent beast of a man will come looking for you. If and when he does, he will pay dearly for it.” Platz motioned toward the large burly man next to him. “My associate here is the finest killer in the country. I will attest to his power. You, little hero, will die a most painful death. We will torture him right before your eyes, making sure you regret ever having to make me chase you around the wilderness.” He finished with a sickeningly terrifying smile.
Following his words, she felt a sharp pain in her arm. The other man had moved around to the side of the bed and pierced her arm with a syringe. When she reacted, the large man pressed down on her, his full weight nearly crushing her. The only saving grace was the utterly impressive softness of the mattress beneath her. She could feel a suctioning feeling in her left arm, and the window on the syringe begin filling up with a crimson liquid.
When they finished with one, the man revealed a second syringe and began filling that too. Already weak because of lack of rest and an overall lack of proper sustenance, in the middle of filling the second she felt herself begin to pass out. Ultimately, she closed her eyes, and the voices of the men around began to sound distant, and she started to grow numb to the weight on her, eventually completely passing out of consciousness.
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Part 2.
On the next day when she awoke, she found herself still in that bed, but she was now wearing a black collar. She lifted herself to a sitting position as best as she could and opened her mouth for a yawn. When she did though, she was surprised by the jolt of pain that racked her body. First, it started in her neck, as if the collar around her neck was closing in, but then came the feeling of an electric current shooting in both directions towards her brain and down her spine, causing her to feel it in her toes. In response she tried to let out a scream of pain, only to be hit again, then she tried to cry, only to then again be hit with it. Just like it had been inside the burlap sack, any sound that was made would be punished. Resulting in her curling up in a ball on the bed and crying as quietly to herself as she could, lest she is punished for feeling the pain that was being inflicted on her.
“Alex… I’m sorry. Please… save… me.”
Later that day, the large man quickly came into the room and straight to the bed she was laying on. He reached out her oversized hand and wrapped it tightly around her left arm like he had been aiming for the sore spot from the day before.
“Come with me!” he roared.
She was in no place to try and resist him, she lacked any strength to, and if she happened to make a sound while doing so, she would be hit by a jolt of pain through her body. She simply let her body go limp, allowing him to do with her as he wanted. He of course had no issue lifting her entire weight into the air and then turning on his heel back out of the room. He was in a hurry to get somewhere, but she didn’t see why she was necessary.
She was taken down the hall and into an office room. Inside were the other two men plus three others from the night in the forest and lastly a man in the corner, cloaked in a shadow that no one else seemed to be paying attention to. They all seemed to be wearing an anxious look and were peering into a mirror that showed them a burning building.
“He is here.” Said Platz aloud.
“It is what we expected. We are prepared for this.” replied the well-dressed man.
“Take one of them with you. I’ll keep the other with me, and have Sloth analyze it. Make sure he is sparing with it. We may not be able to get anymore.”
“Do you plan to use it here?”
“If necessary, yes. If our lord is correct, then it will make us stronger than any other.”
“Be careful, we don’t know the side effects of using such a thing.” There was a genuine concern in the man’s voice.
“All will be fine. Even if something happens, I have the strongest healing power of all of the members.” He turned away from the mirror and looked up at the large man carrying Lili. “If you do your job right, none of this will be a problem.”
“Don’t worry boss, I’ll squash that man like the bug he is!” he said in a deep bellow, and the other three men with him gave their cheers in response.
“What of the girl? Should we take everything?”
“No. It is better to use her effectively.” Platz was wearing a greasy smile while rubbing his hands together. He motioned for Lili to be let down and in response the man lowered her halfway before letting go of her, causing her to fall to the floor with a thud. She let out a barely audible squeal, which was all it needed for the device on her neck to activate, causing pain to course through her body. Platz seem clicked his tongue and shot the man a nasty look.
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“Listen to me, little girl,” Platz said, leaning in close enough that his pungent breath filled the space in front of her face. “I want you to know something very important. This device,” he dinged on the collar around her neck with one hand, while lifting his other hand next to her face. In it, he was carrying a black colored contraption with a large white button. “Is connected to this device. If I press this button. It will cause you to feel incredible amounts of pain while also making this collar begin closing in around your neck until you suffocate.” His grin was pure evil, and his eyes felt like they were piercing her soul.
“If that man surrenders himself, you will live to see another day. He won’t, but that is fine because you will live. Otherwise, I will press this button and you will die horribly in front of him, and he will be hopeless to save you.” He let out a maniacal laugh as if he had already achieved his victory.
“Now you. Take her to the hidden room. He is a reckless man, so he will probably make it in here. Ambush him in the hall. I will be watching it here. I would love to personally see his face when he realizes he failed her, but in here will have to do.” He was talking to the large man, who picked Lili up and turned, motioning his men to come with him.
“With that man out of the way, all we have to worry about is the shadow walker. He should be easy to catch though. He is no warrior, and without any shadows, he will have no way out.” He laughed again triumphantly.
Lili had been carried off into a small room behind a hidden door in the main upstairs hallway. She was with the large man and his three allies, waiting for the moment that they would attempt to ambush Alex. The words that Platz had said were swimming in her head. The hope she had held onto so tightly, for Alex to come to her rescue had been a trap for Alex. If he did show, he would have to surrender his life for hers, and she would be forced to watch as they did unspeakable things to him until he finally died; otherwise, she would be killed by this collar around her neck, racked by unending pain till she eventually suffocated from having her neck crushed.
If she had to choose, she wouldn’t hesitate to pick the latter. The thought of having to watch Alex die an agonizingly painful death all so she could survive was too much for her to handle. Life wasn’t worth it if everyone she eventually cared for ended up dying for her.
“Alex… I am sorry. Please leave me.”
Now here she was, the only hope left in her was for Alex to kill her. It would be a quicker, mostly painless death, but most of all it meant that Alex would live. He would no doubt beat all these men, and eventually move on one day to save the world. That would be a good story, right… She could be the sacrifice that spurned on the hero to defeat the evil of the world. The thought caused a single tear to escape her eye.
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Part 3.
“Lili are you ready to go home?” he asked her again.
Her reluctance to answer him and the collar on her neck, resting just below the knife blade, told him everything he needed to know. He looked up at the hairless gorilla holding the knife and clicked his tongue behind his teeth, then let out an exhale.
“Diogo… you seem like a martial artist, am I right?” he asked the large man calmly.
The large man honestly didn’t know how to respond. Firstly, he didn’t understand how his opponent knew his name, he tried to think back, but he was positive they had never met. Diogo had been around in the underworld for a long time and had wronged many people in his pursuit of power from the son of whore to a cage fighter fighting against monsters and scraping out a meager living, and finally to becoming a contract killer with his own troop of elite men. This man across from him didn’t stink of the underworld though, nor did he appear the type to take notice of its denizens. Curiosity got the better of him.
“How do you – “.
He never got a chance to finish his sentence. He didn’t understand how, but he was staring at the ceiling. He tried to move his arm, but it wasn’t responding. He felt for the little girl with his other, but his fingers didn’t seem to move when he told them to. There was also a pulsating sensation in the center of his chest. Now that he noticed it, the ceiling was moving, eventually, he felt a strong force stop him. His head slumped down, his legs were splayed out, and he was sitting on the floor. There were scraps of wood on the floor around him. He slowly turned his head to the side to see the wall that had been at the end of the hallway behind them, he was now buried inside the wall, within a large body-sized crevice of his own making.
He tried to piece together what had happened, but it didn’t make sense. He had been standing there, about to ask how the man knew his name, and next thing he knew he couldn’t feel anything, and now he was in a wall.
“No… no… no sense.” He whispered.
Diogo had been a child, abandoned by his mother as an unwanted bastard, a product of unconsented sex by a client, who had learned in the pits in the deepest darkest reaches of the Faustian underground, the places that the courts couldn’t touch. He learned to conquer any and all fear in his quest for real power. Something that he was sure by now he had achieved. Now when he came around, it was others that feared him. It was other people that asked him and begged him for forgiveness. He could take what he wanted when he wanted. There was no one around that could challenge his might.
When his eyes met that man’s, he felt fear incomparable to anything before. These weren’t the eyes of a man that hated what he saw, it was the eyes of a man that looked and saw nothing but a piece of filth, trash, simply waiting to be discarded. To this man before him, Diogo the strongest in the underworld was nothing but a piece of garbage littering the world. The realization that all his effort and struggle amounted to absolutely nothing in front of this man who looked fresh out of his teens.
All around Alex were the remains of his companions, elite killers in their own right, and now they were nothing but unrecognizable mounds of flesh and blood littering the floor. The girl at his side, at one time a hostage who had given up all hope of being rescued looked on at her savior. He was covered in the blood of his enemies, and he was looking down the hall with an apathetic look that reeked of bloodlust. She was scared, more scared than she had been before. She wanted to shrink down and disappear, she wanted to cry out, to scream and beg not to be hurt. If she did that though, the collar would…
She reached down and touched her neck. The collar was gone. She looked around her, checking to see if had come off somehow, but it wasn’t anywhere around her. She looked back up at Alex only to be surprised. He was staring back at her, but it was the same apathetic killer stare he had been giving before. It was a warm, gentle smile, his eyes revealed the genuine emotion behind it. Even the blood that had coated his body had magically disappeared. He knelt and wrapped her arms around her, pulling her in close, lovingly.
“Don’t worry little one. You are safe now. Nothing else will ever hurt you again.”
There had been no hope left for her. She had wanted to give up on her life. The way that they had said it would go would be that one of them would surely die a painful death, but he crushed all that. He had outplayed their enemies with sheer power. They had all drastically underestimated him and the length he would go to when it mattered. Even she, the person who had spent the most time with him, hadn’t fully grasped the scope of the power he had. She let out a cry, for the first time in days, she wasn’t afraid to make a sound, she wasn’t afraid to be hit, and she wasn’t afraid of what was going to happen. She was wrapped in Alex’s arms, the safest place in the world for her.
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I promise… I will never run away. I’m sorry!” she continued to cry out through her tears. Alex simply returned it by holding her more closely, the wet spot forming on his chest a welcome comfort. Alex kissed her on the top of her head and whispered to her.
“I will always come for you. You are my whole world.” Then re-embraced her amid the hallway that had turned into a bloody battlefield.
During this exchange, Diogo managed to climb to his feet, but he discovered that both of his arms were no longer attached to his torso and were laying down the hall near his opponent's feet. His great massive muscular limbs had been his power. He had trained and trained until all the hair on his body had fallen off, and yet, before that man they had been nothing. It had been as if he was pulling up a weed from in the earth, and in a single fluid motion ripped them from their sockets. Pain from their absence was only now setting in as the shock was beginning to wear away.
“Diogo, you never answered. Are you what this world considers a martial artist?” again that man was asking a question. Now it was Diogo who was too afraid to utter a sound. The last time he had, his precious arms were ripped off him.
“Maybe if I am quiet-”
The thought hadn’t fully formed in his head when his face was racked with incredible pain. It was like he had been hit by a war hammer. He forced open his right eye to try and get a glimpse of what it was. “A log? No, that isn’t right. That’s…” The realization made his heart sink into his stomach, a new spring of fear burst forth within him and tears were forming in his eyes. It was his arm, one of his great hulking arms had been smashed across his face. THWACK! Another hit came from the opposite side, causing him to go off balance. It was the other arm. In the transition to the other side, he had managed to just barely make out the form of his opponent. Alex was using Diogo’s own arms to beat him to death.
The act of tearing off Diogo’s arms had been incomprehensibly fast. No one present had managed to see it. While he had been in midsentence Alex had moved in front of him, first destroying the knight in his hand, the first crushing the collar with his right hand, an example of true physical strength, before completely eradicating its existence with impunity. After removing Lili from Diogo’s grasp, Alex then latched on to his enemy’s arms with both hands, using his right leg to provide the force to separate them from their owner’s body. This resulted in Diogo being sent flying to the other side of the hall.
They weren’t clean tears either, there were loos strips of flesh hanging on the ends, like tassels at the end of a spear that waved to and fro when swung. Alex then used those same arms to pummel Diogo’s allies into the mounds of bloody meat that lay on the floor. Now, after all that, Alex was using the same meat rods, to smack their owner into a chunk of meat like his followers had been. With each swing, Alex painted the walls a crimson color. With each swing, Alex swung hard. With each swing, Diogo’s consciousness faded.
Watching from the safety of his office, through the mirror that allowed him to see nearly anything he asked of it, Platz thought. “That is the hero. That is the man they summoned to save this world?” He couldn’t place the feeling that was creeping up his spine. The achy feeling, he was feeling in his stomach. He didn’t know what to make of it, he couldn’t remember ever feeling it before. Deep in the recess of his mind, his instincts, something he had never needed before, uttered a single word. “FEAR.”
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Part 4.
Platz was left standing in his office, staring into the mirror, horrified by what he had just witnessed. His enemy had been beyond comprehension. The stories he had heard about heroes had been about young boys who, all too glad to bask in the glory, had naively picked up arms in the effort to save the world. While they were powerful, they all seemed to lack that killing instinct, often taking it easy on their opponents until stripped of choice, they are forced to fight to kill. This man, on the other hand, had shown up ready to kill anyone that got in his way. He wasn’t a hero like the others, he was a monster.
“What have I done!?” he screamed in his head.
His thoughts were moving at lightspeed, but none of them seemed to be the answer he was looking for. He began pacing around the room, making tracks on the carpet while biting his nails and sweating uncontrollably. As he was contemplating the life choices he had made thus far, a knock came at the door. A pair of loud thuds. He hesitated to answer it, he double-checked the mirror to look for the man that brought him his first taste of terror and sighed when he could see him, nowhere near the door.
“Who is it!?” he cried out angrily.
“Papa, what is all that loud noise?” came a voice back. It was a simple voice, like that of a child, but only a tad deeper. He couldn’t have mistaken that voice, it was his son, Peter. A new thought popped into his head, a twisted plot, one that would curse him. He didn’t care though, he was already cursed enough, what was one more to add?
“Come in my boy.” He said gently.
The boy entered the room. He was an abnormally large boy, well a man really, but the mind of a child. Not really due to any defect of his own, but entirely because of the way his father kept him. Peter spent nearly all of his time locked up in his room, with only bath time and an occasional stroll with Papa around the castle. He wasn’t bored though, Papa made sure that he was always well supplied with “toys” to amuse him. Sometimes those “toys” would break, but that was simple enough to replace. There were many “toys” living in the streets down below. They would always jump at the chance to “play” with Peter for a few gold coins, of course usually they would never last long enough to receive their rightful pay.
Peter was a big and strong boy, big enough that if he had a working mind, even Diogo would have had trouble with him. Everyone who knew about him often wondered how it is that that boy was the son of the Margrave, a man who was just barely taller than Peter’s knee. The Margrave knew exactly why of course, but he dared to never tell it to anyone, even his closest associates didn’t know. The number of people who knew the through was only four, there was the Margrave himself, there was Pride who had come up with the idea, Sloth who made it happen, and then their leader in the shadow who simply saw all and knew all. Peter had been created for a moment just like this, and what was more, the Margrave also had an extra boost he could use if he needed it. With those two combined he began to see his victory.
“Peter, my boy. My lovely, lovely son. Oh, how I love you so.” He reached up and spread his arms as wide as he could, latching on to his son’s thigh and squeezing.
“Papa!” he said with a child-like expression.
“Peter, my son. I have something very important to tell you. Please come down here.” he asked nicely.
Peter knelt next to his father and lowered his head so he could hear clearly.
“I must whisper this to you, no one else can hear.” Platz continued, beckoning his son to drop down ever so slightly lower. Peter complied, lowering his head even further to allow his much smaller father to be able to whisper in his ear. Grateful for his son’s obedience, he placed a hand near his ear, cupping it.
“Thank you, my boy.” He whispered. Instead of staying close and continuing like Peter had expected him to. Platz placed another hand on Peter’s shoulder, and squeezed, with his right hand, which had been cupped near his son’s ear, he latched onto the lobe with a death grip. Both motions were far faster than thought possible, and Peter, who was shocked by this, could do nothing when his father sank his teeth into Peter’s neck, latching on and tearing out a hunk of meat, blood spurting from the artery in his neck. Peter finally snapping out of his initial shock, pushed his father back with what strength he could, but then returned to a new state of shock, trying to block the blood flow with his right hand. Try as he might, it wouldn’t change anything at this point.
Platz stood up, finishing the piece of meat that he had stolen from his son’s neck. He smiled as he watched the boy bleed out on the floor. He didn’t want his son to die entirely, just weaken enough so that he couldn’t put up a fight, then Platz would be able to have his way with him. He watched as with one hand Peter tried his best to stop the blood; with the other, he reached up with apologetic eyes. Peter didn’t understand what he had done to make his father so angry. His father had never hurt him before, it simply didn’t make sense to him. He eventually grew so weak that he couldn’t keep his hands up anymore and they fell to the floor. Peter, now slumped over in a pool of his blood, was helpless for the voracious Platz.
“This is what you were made for boy! Be my strength!” Platz cried aloud before going to the floor, tanking chunks of his son’s flesh, bite by bite. Platz was the embodiment of Gluttony. The fuller he was, the stronger he was. If he ate another living thing, he could gain their strength as well. Meaning that with every bite, every swallow of his son’s body, he was growing bigger, stronger, meaner, and faster. Peter was special though, his was a body specially designed by the genius of their order, Sloth. Sloth was a man that truly hated doing anything unless it was new research or a new experiment, he was a genius among geniuses. He had designed a special concoction to allow Peter’s body to continuously regenerate over some time. More than that, the ability would also sustain Peter’s life.
Even now, with Platz chewing on his flesh, his blood gushing like a fountain out of the many open wounds on his body, he was still clinging to life, just barely on the threshold. Meaning he could helplessly feel every single gnaw, every tooth impression, every yank of his flesh as his father ate away at his never-ending mass. The more time Platz would have to do this, the stronger he would become. He was preparing for his enemy in the best, most fiendish way possible. Yet, he wasn’t even done.
He would take his time doing this because, with step two, there would be no going back. So, he chewed at a quicker more voracious pace, satiating his feverish appetite. He refused to think that a mere human would beat him. He was one of The 7, he had been given his powers by a being beyond that man’s comprehension. He would show him what fear was, not the other way around. So, he chewed faster, and swallowed bigger chunks, and grew bigger and stronger.
Lost in the feast of his son’s body, he had completely forgotten about the viewing mirror. He hadn’t even noticed the fact that Alex had gone beyond the mirror’s sight, that he had traveled somewhere else in the castle. It was the bang at the door that caused his stomach to quiver. It wasn’t like the previous bangs, which were loud but gentle, noises made by a large person with little actual control other than their strength. No, this bang was heavy, it was aggressive. This bang was a threat. Platz knew who had shown up at his door, and after swallowing the last scrap of meat that was in his mouth, he smiled. He got up and walked over to the table with the crimson vial, snatching it up in his hand.
Then, with a cool collected smile and a face dripping with the blood of his own child, he said, “Come in.”