“Put your hands on your head and kneel, Fa Fumerunner.”
There’s a captain among them it would seem with his red uniform, quite striking compared to the other grays and blacks. He takes thundering steps forward and I can do nothing but follow his command. Explaining what has happened seems like a waste of time so let us see what he has to say first. How bad could it be, especially with them marching in with such intense faces? The floor is quite uncomfortable to kneel on, but I suppose it could be worse. I do regret not kneeling on the bed, but perhaps this is better so he doesn’t think I’m trying to hide the Dregs. The cell door just… expands out and creates a hole for the guard. Strange, but I suppose everything has the potential to do weird things – that would also explain how I ended up here.
“I hear that you lured one of the guards in, assaulted her, and then stole their Dregs. I would ask if this were true, however, knowing you there is a much higher chance that she would be dead right now. So instead, I ask you; what happened here and how did you acquire these Dregs?”
Quite a lofty speech but I suppose the best thing to do is just tell the truth.
“Well firstly, I would like to say that I did indeed have quite a good chance to kill the guard – Zmela is her name I believe.” The captain nods sternly, “So to recount the events; I was sitting in the middle of my cell, minding my own business since that is about everything I can do in such a place. I hear the door opening and boom, there she is, before me. Zmela introduces herself and says she is quite the fan. Then, she motions for me to get closer and gives me a kiss, it was very strange. Then when I turned around, the pouch of Dregs was next to my bed. I picked it up to see that it was most certainly not mine and then a few moments later, you all burst in with quite the glares.”
The captain nods along with a grimace. I suppose it must be strange to hear that one of your guards is a fan of mine – Pain. Darkness. The taste of blood in my mouth. Dizziness. Light – it is so bright. Groggily, I open my eyes to see another person in the red outfit. Perhaps it's less of a captain and more something else? Or maybe there is a second captain? That seems silly.
“You are Fa Fumerunner, correct?”
“Yes, by Fael was that all necessary?”
No response. Just the sound of a pencil scratching on paper. My head thrums with pain. What is the point of all this? I go to rub my nose but my damn hands are tied down. This unitchable nose is going to be the death of me, unless…
“Fa Fumerunner, you have claimed that Zmela has introduced herself with that name and said she was a fan, correct?”
“Yes, yes, that is very correct. Now I have a question; do you mind itching my-”
“Fa Fumerunner, there is a potential that you are right, and a potential you are wrong. However, the odds are not in your favor for I know Zmela. She is currently in the Fumes of Fael, making a pilgrimage to the plane of purity to cure an infection. Could she have gotten back, talked to you, dropped off more Dregs then she makes in a couple of months off at your feet and then disappear back to Fael all in one afternoon, of course. There is that potential, however, I doubt it.”
A fake name. Of course, I suppose one who is a fan of mine would not just tell me their name, that would be mistake number one. A name is quite powerful, especially if you can find out more about the person said name is attached to.
“So, someone gave me a fake name. So what? It does not change the fact that my story is accurate. Now-”
“Fa Fumerunner, how do you know the name ‘Zmela’? Who told it to you?”
Really? Does this guy think I will magically know the answer or something? Well, I suppose if there was a place to know the answer, this would be the place. Wait… maybe I should lay out some potentials and see if the right one pops out of nowhere.
“Well, I do not know her name as you know. She was quite muscular. Well trained. Had a regular guard uniform. Was a woman, or at least looked like one. I would not underestimate the subterfuge of a Fa Fumerunner fan. Now, the potential that I know her actual name is slim to none. I really have been given nothing to work with.”
The captain? Guard? Red guard? Red guard it is. He looks at me with a strange understanding and now is nodding along. I swear when he first came in, another red guard said one of his guards had explained that I tried to kill them or something.
“So, before I was hit in the head, a person dressed in a red uniform like yourself told me that one of their guards had been attacked by myself which is quite impossible owing to the fact that I am, well, in a massive cage. Now all I want to do here is keep delivering goods through Langnet’s road. I need a horse and some supplies, although it seems like said Dregs have already been taken from me.”
There is just silence in the air. The red guard seems to be chewing on what I said, digesting the information and then his face goes pale. He curls over and starts violently vomiting blood. I close my eyes – the mere sight of blood makes me want to faint. My heart races but there is nothing I can do. I am tied down – I try to tear my bindings off but it is no use. These are Dreg chains; even the strongest monster wouldn’t be able to make a dent.
Dadoof!
Silence once more.
I shakily open my eyes and take in the room. There is blood everywhere – the door, the roof, the floor, the papers – everywhere. His uniform is covered in blood and organs, it is as if his insides and outside body switched places. I shiver and shake. I try to squirm away from the blood dripping from the ceiling but the chair has been bolted into the ground. My face is hot. My cheeks are flushed. I am already crying silently – maybe this is how I die, starved to death after the strangest accident happened. No, I can’t think about what I need to do next. There is always something that can be done – but look at him, so young and full of life. So ready to do greatness and now dead. Lifeless and tragic. Maybe… maybe I have the potential to be evil for but a moment so I can think clearly. Please… just for a moment… please!
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
I open my eyes and see the blood with a smile. No, not a smile – with a chuckle. Wait, not a chuckle, no that is just sobs. It seems the potential of Fa Fumerunner being evil is not stronger than the potential of me being good. Fael, help me.
Time passes, and I know not for how long. There should be someone coming in here to check on me at least, right? Fael, I need to stretch my legs and stand up – my ass is killing me after all this time on a flat, hard and uncomfortable metal seat. I… this is nothing compared to what I have done before. I have locked people inside cages that force them to stay curled up for days on end. Some people have died of the sheer stress of being held in that pose for so long. This... I can manage this. I must repent, I must grow, I must get forgiveness. This is all just one step down the path of good. I can do it!
Time passes and my whole lower body is numb. My knees are going to crack something fierce when I wake up. I need to try something. Maybe… there is a potential that I am no longer chained down? Nope, still chained. A few tugs remind me that I am still very chained down and that is not going to change. What even killed the man? Was it murder or did the fact that his body could potentially invert finally win? Who would live in a place that could just kill you like that?! I suppose walking through the fumes of Fael is a similar experience but I hardly live there!
Panic is setting in. My heart is flying. I try to shout but my voice is shaky and breathing is difficult. Sadness is such a stupid emotion but I just… can’t… hold it back! Maybe there is someone here! Maybe I can get some help! I need help! Please!
A scraping. Footsteps. Voices. A knock at the door.
“I am in here! The guard has died, and I am stuck! Please, help me!” I am quite proud of myself that I got everything out without breaking down into sobs.
There is a muffled response and a few more knocks. Oh Wol’zarath, do not tell me that this place is locked and only the dead guy on the ground has the key. Even so, maybe… just maybe he forgot to lock the door?
The handle jiggles around and for the first time in memory, I pray. Please oh great Fael, the lord of fumes, let this door be unlocked. There is a potential that the guard forgot to lock the door or maybe somehow there is a chance that the door has randomly unlocked itself. Or maybe the guard outside have their own keys? Please…
The door creaks open and two people walk inside. One is a man who is quite nondescript. He has brown eyes, brown hair, and pale skin but there is nothing different or unique about him. He is good-looking but not that much. He is dressed like a guard but there is just something about him – this is no guard. Someone who is a six out of ten in every category is not merely a guard for their whole life. The other figure is… that woman,
“Zmela, is it? How wonderful to see you again – and who might your friend be? I would love it if you unlocked my chains.”
‘Zmela’ laughs at my request and quickly makes her way to me. She straddles me, sitting on my lap. The man watches with cold, uncaring eyes. Even his emotions are a 6/10. She clears her throat and strokes my hair “Look at you, Fa. All tied up and unable to move. I could so easily torture and kill you now like you have so many.”
I nod along. She is definitely right, as I stand there is very little I can do. There is a strange feeling deep in my bones… nerves? I am nervous? Anxious? This is quite odd – it feels like cold hands are caressing my very soul.
“I like current you like this. Pray. When will the old Fa come back? There is always the potential that whatever curse you have found yourself trapped in disappears given enough time. No, it is time for you to get out of here. I have a hideout not to far down and by the way, Fa, my friend here will kill you at a moment's notice if you try anything including not following us.” She gives me a wink and another kiss. Every moment is jarring and uncomfortable, but what can I do? She leans back, runs her hands through my hair, and then hops off. The man walks over after finding the keys and cracks open my chains. Strange, I thought the key would open them but… well, this will do.
Standing up is a glorious feeling – and then the pins and needles hit. I can’t walk for a few moments as my knees and back crack like a vicious thunderstorm as I stretch. The woman drags me along and raises a finger to her lips. I… feel so guilty leaving. No, I must go back. It is my place to be in a cage and to travel along Langnet’s road. If I am going to do anything illegal – I can’t. I will not let myself fall down that path again. There are a few guards in front of us. I take a breath to shout and then feel something cold and sharp poking the back of my neck. Oh, I see. He will stab me, paralyzing my body. Then it is simple to slit my throat and let me bleed out silently. I won’t be able to good dead or paralyzed so quiet I must be until free.
I follow the woman. When I slow down, I feel the man’s cold knife. Someone so painfully average looking really is quite the well-planned villain, huh? We keep traveling, going through hundreds of lefts and rights – a table to pushed to the side, revealing a trap door under it. I carefully follow the woman into the darkness. This would be the best time to strike if I wanted to get out of here. I can tell she is very close, just a half arm’s length away from me. The man must be close behind but with a sudden forward move, he would not be in stabbing range anymore. What to do… what can I do? Kill her – no! No, no, no that is off the table. Attack and knock over? No, I cannot… I have beaten so many victims in – well, that is off the table. I cannot inflict any pain. I could turn and run back but the man, while he might be unable to make a specific cut like intended, can still stop my route out of this hole – and it is so dark that I cannot fathom where I would even go. No, I must keep moving forward. I am trapped.
A torch is lit from behind.
“Finally, here we are.”
It is… the bottom of a large, abandoned well that has been turned into a hideout. Knives line the wall. Furniture of bones and skin fills the space to make a twisted home. This woman and man must be killers as well.
“Welcome, Fa Fumerunner, to our humble abode.” She sits on a rocking chair and pats the flayed skin of someone stitched onto the chair's left arm, “This is Zmela, quite the charming young lady. Shame she will be wandering for quite a bit longer in Fael. No one knows where she went at this point!” She gives me a wink, “I always thought you had the most magnificent – the most amazing kills. Each one was done with such perfection! Each torture was uniquely cruel and perfect! There was no potential that anyone could match your exquisite work! How you thought of your acts was beyond me, however, human bodies can be used to make lovely items, it seems like such a waste to just get rid of them!”
She laughs and the man smiles for the first time in memory. They sit down on chairs and both stare at me.
“You will stay here until you are yourself and evil again.” The man speaks for the first time. His voice is surprisingly high-pitched, almost boyish. His body is old but his voice reminds me of a child. “We need you to teach us. We know you let yourself get caught but you know so much! Please, teach us! Show us how it is done! We already have someone here for you to use as an example, oh lord Fa!”
Muffled screams and bangs from a chest locked closed erupt and then suddenly stop. They must be struggling to breathe and keep consciousness in there.
“Now Fa, my love, what shall we do about them?”
Oh Fael, oh Wol’zarath, please give me a chance to let them escape. Anything is possible here, right? This can be my first good action... Please!
“Oh, this is yours. Picked her up just for you.” The boy… the man gives me Savra. She’s been given a fresh shine.
“Time to get working.”
They rub their hands with glee.