Blood dripped slowly into a small puddle of blood giving a small splashing sound that echoed throughout the room. A consistent and rhythmic dripping of blood.
*drip*
*drip*
*drip*
A man stood chained up in a nearly pitch black dungeon save for the torch light that filled the crevices with the smallest semblance of light. Blood stained his entire body pooling near his feet. For most the sight would be enough to make them sick to their stomach. Even people familiar with war tended not to dwell on the horrors they witnessed due to the adrenaline coursing through their veins.
Poorly patched up wounds with visible infection that had turned into puss filled sores oozed from them leaving small trails of grime from where the fluid gradually dripped down. In the more open wounds numerous writhing maggots could be seen feasting on the man’s infected flesh. While some would think the maggots would have eaten him alive the truth was even more horrifying they were keeping his wounds clean prolonging his suffering.
His body was haggard, beaten, and his hair was grown out and wild. It was obvious that he had seen many nights of torture from his tormentors. The last beating was too much for him and he was slowly bleeding out from months of wounds that had not healed properly. With his body chained up against the wall the man had no choice, but to be forced to hold up his body as his legs lost all power to try and relieve the burden on his wrists causing his skin to be torn where his wrists were cuffed.
Over the man stood a masked figure who wordlessly watched as life eked out of his eyes. A sadistic look flashed across eyes that peered out from them. An unnatural almost lust filled look...yet it wasn’t lust it was something far more sinister.
The man began to weep with the last of his strength as he lifted his eyes to see his tormentor. No tears would fall with someone who had no body fluid left in them to give. A look of pure dread filled his face with the realization that he would soon be dying, followed by a sea of anger, a raging torrent of pent up fury.
*gak*
The man coughed spitting out with little energy a small mouthful of bile and blood which landed pitifully no more than a few feet away from him. His swollen eyes could barely let him see them.
"The gods will punish you! Someday you will pay for this, you will hang from the Phoenix gates of Ei'en" he said weakly coughing out another small amount of blood that dripped down his bottom lip.
"Bwahaha!" a sweet and seductive laugh escaped the tormenter’'s lips "Really? Now I don't know, about that it isn't like the gods to be that caring is it?"
“Yo--you are t--the devil.” His breathing and speech began to slow as the last bit of energy drained from his body as his blood flowed.
“Don’t you think? That if your deity you served really cared they would walk alongside us? Or perhaps do something to stop this torture?” she tilted her head as she used her foot to prop up the man’s head against the cavern wall.
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The man who had given what little energy he had left to argue with his torturer did not even try to explain this...his deity he had devoted himself to had completely been silent even in his dantain...there was nothing...no comfort.
“Don’t worry while your death is meaningless, at least you die enlightened to the true nature of the gods of Kuro.”
The masked figure crouched down beside the dying man. The mask hides the devilish smile on their face. "Besides how will I hang from the Phoenix gate when I will be the one sitting on the eternal throne you silly man."
Getting up the figure walked out of the chamber slowly, their bottom of their feet stained in blood leaving footprints where they landed on the ground making not a bit of noise as they moved so swiftly from one side of the room to the other like a feather. Landing she barely barely made an audible click. The door swung open slowly before the woman paused at the doorway looking back behind at the dying man.
"Oh and do me a favor and tell your precious deity to me. I beg you.” her lips came together, blowing him a small kiss back at the man as she turned back towards the doorway. “It won't matter there is nothing any god can do to me that they haven't already done."
As the tormentor’s footsteps faded away, so too did the man's vision as he could feel his soul being tugged from his body. The last of his strength was released as his body's entire weight fell onto the rusted cuffs. A sickening pop from his shoulders popping out of their sockets. Yet there was no groan of pain…the man who had just died looked in worse condition than a corpse who had been dead for months.
…
64 Years Earlier, Ei'en central market
Ryohei walked with pride as the crowds of people whispered to themselves an air of excitement to all those who saw him. He made showing himself to the public regularly made royalty seem less detached from the people. Of course Ryohei also liked to fancy himself an arbiter of justice; he was strict and uncompromising no matter who it was that broke his father's laws.
If he had one criticism of his father who had little to criticize it was that he wasn't connected enough to his own people. Ryohei was determined to gain the respect and support of the people, something his father had, but lacked their adoration as well. His father was simply too disconnected from the day to day lives of the people he ruled over.
That is why when he demanded that little pickpocket to hang it wasn't out of spite. It was to give an example to all other pickpockets that age was not a factor in punishment granted the girl had tried the pickpocket the wrong person this day, had it been anyone else she may have simply got a severe lashing, but with that life came risk, you don't execute someone if they pickpocket a commoner, but nobility changed that. If he didn't show the people that they were indeed different they would get grandiose ideas of equality which just did not exist in this violent world. Those sorts of ideas led to rebellion and ultimately death for the common folks.
“My Lord? Is it necessary to hang the child?” his young attendant asked.
“Law is clear on this. Quite clear. If I allow this child to get away with it others will think they can defy the royal family.” feeling his stomach turn slightly Ryohei was only twenties this year and the young girl couldn’t be much younger than him. Ryohei bit his lip as he watched onwards the haunting eyes staring out into the crowd nearly emotionless…those cursed eyes were penetrating into his mind.
The sound of the rope going taunt followed by the snap of the young girl's neck caused Ryohei to flinch and tense up his body even as he kept his calm exterior he took no joy in what just happened.
"What a sad day, this should not be celebrated" he whispered to himself.
Motioning for his small group of attendants to make their way back to the palace Ryohei had much to dwell on. Maybe he could ask Saisei? He thought as the crowd gave his small caravan a wide berth.