Diamanes let out a low whistle as he appraised the condition of Glenn’s body. There were various, creative wounds covering him, be it on his feet, hands, torso, or face. There were a dozen lacerations across his chest, and more than a dozen broken bones. This was an absolute miracle for Glenn to be still alive despite all of the damage. Most of his teeth were gone and the rest were broken in half. His nose was smashed, and his eyebrows were broken too. Before, he had a relatively handsome face, but now he would scare anyone who would dare put their eyes on him.
“Damn, there’s a lot of work to be done. How many liters of this filth did they force you to ingest?” Diamanes questioned in awe. Glenn responded with a feeble shake of his head, his memories clouded. It could have been as many as ten or a hundred syringes of that shit. He had spent most of his time before Diamanes’ awakening wondering whether what was happening was real or not. The line between these two distinct things had never been so blurred as during his time in this place.
“Cough…What…What is it?” He asked with a raspy voice, wincing in pain from moving his mouth to talk. Diamanes clicked his tongue before grunting.
“Monster blood—Beast blood, to be precise. It is supposed to kill people ingesting it, but…it does seem like they added something to it, I’m not sure what. Something…” He paused, “...divine? This is some weird shit.”
Glenn closed his eyes and leaned back against the stone wall, drawing one breath after the other. So that was indeed blood he had been drinking. He didn’t want to believe it at first, but it could only be that, couldn’t it? At least it wasn’t human blood… His thoughts raced as he processed this new information. What effects would that “Beast” blood have on him? He shivered as he thought back to the ghoul and Father Albenas, the two monsters he met and slayed. Wasn’t that the same as drinking from their veins, that black, thick blood? Glenn retched in disgust, dismissing the image he conjured in his mind.
“Urgh…why would my jailer feed my monster blood?” He muttered, “...I simply can’t understand.”
It simply didn’t make any sense. Why lock a random guy up—
“It wasn’t random. You burned their stash of Moongrass, remember?” Diamanes reminded with a mocking voice. Glenn grimaced and shrugged.
“Sure, then…cough…Why bother feeding me this shit when they could just kill me?” He pondered, his mind recovering thanks to Diamanes’ presence. Being able to talk with someone again was doing him a world of good, soothing the loneliness and pain he had been feeling ever since he’d been locked up.
“Beast Blood…” Glenn paled and looked at his left hand as his cognitive faculties returned little by little.
“Is…is death the sole outcome of consuming…Beast Blood?” He asked Diamanes with an uneasy voice, his broken fingers trembling in expectation of the answer. Diamanes remained silent for a few seconds before replying.
“Hmm…The best outcome is dying, indeed, but…” Glenn held his breath as Diamanes continued, “...It might be possible to create monsters by feeding humans monster blood. Not a precise transformation, but the result would end up having incredible strength, with little to no mental capacity to use it. Be grateful you didn’t end up like that,” Diamanes sneered gloomily. His host’s survival didn’t make any sense, but he was certainly not going to complain about it.
Glenn lowered his head, dripping blood on his chest. Why spend so much time creating a monster…Unless… it’s not one monster, but monsters. This was a prison, after all. It would be weird if there was only a single cell in this place. Maybe…no, there certainly were other victims who’ve been fed Beast Blood in this place. How many? A hundred? Two hundred? More than that? Glenn wouldn’t be able to know until he escaped from his cell. One question remained: why would an organization want to create an army of monsters?
Glenn paused, before chuckling dejectedly. The answer was in the question. Then, what would they want to do with this army? Destroy the world? Did his unluckiness place him straight into this world’s main villain’s gaol?
“That would be ironically funny,” Diamanes commented as he monitored his host’s train of thought. Glenn shook his head, grimacing in pain in consequence.
He’ll have to figure out all of this later. Right now, the priority is to get the hell out of this hell. Diamanes grinned widely, ready to make use of his talents to help Glenn.
“Let’s do this, then,” He stuck his tongue out in concentration, “Give me a minute…clench your teeth, it’s not going to feel good…”
Glenn raised a broken eye but hurriedly complied as he began to feel very, very hot, and not in a handsome kind of way. His forehead and the rag he was wearing dripped with sweat as the heat increased exponentially, to the point Glenn felt like his blood was boiling in his veins. The more the heat increased, the more uncomfortable and painful the process was, whatever it was. It was very different from the throbs he had each time he ingested Beast Blood since he could feel things leaving his body, instead of entering and settling within. Thanks to these past few…weeks, or months? He had lost the reflex to scream, which was positive in this situation; it was probably better that he suffered in silence instead of alerting everyone in the prison that he released his Silence Curse.
Something viscous flowed down his body from all his orifices, oozing out with a boiling sound. It was painfully hot, but Glenn kind of enjoyed the sensation; it felt like he was cleansing himself of the Beast Blood, getting rid of it entirely. As more ooze came out of his body, his bones began to realign, breaking and fixing themselves suitably with a disgusting crackling noise. Glenn almost lost consciousness more than once, but the promise of revenge and freedom was more than enough to make him push through the torture. Flesh grew back as wounds disappeared for over an hour, a very, very painful hour, but ultimately very rewarding. Glenn felt as if his whole body had been rebuilt from top to bottom. All of the ooze, probably the Beast Blood, got pulled to his left, purple hand, and dripped down on the floor from there, mixing with the filth and disappearing within it.
Finally, the last drop fell off Glenn’s left hand alongside every aches, pain, wounds, anything that made Glenn suffer. The latter sighed loudly in relief. He had never felt better if he didn’t take into account the restraints still biting into his flesh. The torpor that had taken over his body during the imprisonment faded away, leaving him with crystal clear senses and thinking. He slowly closed his hands, enjoying moving his muscles without the pain of the broken bones. He adjusted his sitting position, effortlessly pulling on the heavy metal restraints like they were nothing. His body felt light, so light he was pretty sure he could fly if he so wished. And despite its lightness…Glenn grinned widely as he forced lightly on the chain restraining his right arm, feeling it almost coming off the wall. He stood up to the limit of the chains’ reach, stretching the best he could. He brushed back his hair, closing his eyes as his chains clanged against each other.
“Alright, we should be all done. I’ve purified all of the Beast Blood and used its energy to fix your body. You got all the benefits, and none of the filth!” Diamanes cackled, quite proud of his work, “Wow, I really did an excellent job reconstructing your body! You look even better than before your torture! Hey, maybe it was a fortunate turn of events in the end…?”
Glenn sneered as he threw a deathly stare at his left hand. Not even the promise of the most handsome face in the universe would force him back into this hole.
“Is—cough—is that reconstruction the reason I feel so much stronger?” He questioned as he opened and closed his fist, feeling an incredible surge of energy within them. Everything felt foreign and new, and it took a while for him to get used to the new capabilities of his body. He could precisely pinpoint the position of the rats running outside his cell, and he could also vaguely see in the complete dark. He’ll have to explore his new abilities further in the future if he gets the chance to. After all, he wasn't out of the woods yet.
“Superhuman physique and senses. Excellent! I wasn’t joking when I said that you should be grateful for the torture! You will have a real hard time dying with your new body!” laughed Diamanes without an ounce of consideration for his host, weirdly satisfied and happy. If Glenn had to guess the entity’s thoughts, it would probably be something along the lines of “Ah-ha! My host finally has a body worth transporting my sacred presence!”
Given his current circumstances, he might as well take any positive things he could. Now, what remained was to wait. Wait for the bastard that tortured him for…shit, he really needed to know how much time passed outside.
It’d be nice if he could free himself from the restraints, but it would make some insane noise if he ripped them off the wall. He knew he could do it, but it would probably alert everyone in the damned prison. And even if his body was supposedly much stronger now, he would rather not risk it. What if they used magic again? How would powerful muscles fare up against magical vines that popped out of nowhere?
“I have a solution for that, you know?” Diamanes’ voice interjected, laced with smugness.
Glenn frowned, “What…Cough…What do you mean?”
Diamanes clicked his tongue and moistened his lips, trying to find the right words.
“Let’s put it in terms simple enough for you to understand. I am a Hand. I can take things, and use these things once taken.”
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Glenn glanced at his hand, perplexed. Diamanes sighed while muttering haughtily about how his ideas were too advanced for someone as dumb as his host to understand.
“Just…Just place me on the chains,” The entity said dejectedly. Glenn gritted his teeth as he did his best to ignore the underlying mockery in Diamanes’ words and did as he was told. He grabbed his left hand’s chain, waiting for the next step. He suddenly felt something drain out of his body through his left hand, leaving for somewhere unknown. It cost him stamina and…something else which he couldn’t pinpoint. Once the drain stopped he could feel—no, he could hear a change.
The chain wasn’t making a sound anymore, despite how hard he was tugging at it. Glenn recalled Diamanes “taking” away the Silence curse on his throat earlier and finally grasped the entity’s abilities. Without another second of hesitation, Glenn ripped the chain off the wall, ignoring the blood flowing from his wrists due to the restraints’ teeth. He grinned widely, enjoying this newfound power, before creasing his eyebrows.
“Why did you never tell me about that?” He whispered angrily, his voice almost back to normal.
“Because you never asked?” The hand replied in a matter-of-fact tone, expecting the question. Glenn closed his eyes and drew a deep breath, suppressing the rising annoyance in his chest. He was probably going to escape this hell thanks to Diamanes. So. He could not insult Diamanes. That’d be ungrateful. Shit. What a terrible turn of events.
He reached for the other chain with his left hand, waiting for Diamanes to use his magic once again. An awkward second of silence passed until Glenn questioned the entity.
“Why aren’t you doing your thing again?”
Diamanes made a wry smile, a hint of shame on his lips.
“Well, because I can’t. You know, I take something, and then give it back; I can’t just make a thousand spells out of a single one. If you want to reuse the Silence Curse, you’ll have to take it again.”
Glenn sighed and rubbed the corner of his eyes.
“...So you’re a one-trick pony?”
Diamanes, would he have been able to roll his eyes, would have certainly done so when hearing this.
“Right now, I’m limited in what I can do because you have shit Mana. Get a little stronger, and you’ll see what I’ll be able to do then.”
Glenn shook his head and sat back on the cold, damp ground. What would he do with only one hand free? He didn’t have the opportunity to think about it as the jailer approached, his steps echoing outside of the cell. Glenn hurriedly lay down on the broken chain so that Scarred Face wouldn’t realize there was one restraint missing from the wall.
The heavy metal door opened, the soft light of the candle invading the cell. Scarred-Face entered while frowning, his nose creased. It probably smelled horrible; Glenn couldn’t tell, he was way too used to it. Glenn squinted, his eyes hidden behind his long hair, perfectly able to see Scarred-face’s expression under his hood. Seems like Scarred-face hadn’t shaved his chin in a while, huh?
He tried his best to try to appear as weak as before, trembling and shivering as the jailer approached. Scarred-face crouched next to Glenn and placed the candle down, before rubbing his hands together and pulling out a new tool of torture. It looked like a corkscrew, but bigger and with a bloodied wooden handle. He went to reach for Glenn’s head, determined to show him the new toy before starting. Glenn’s grin suddenly grew wide, surprising the jailer who reeled back in shock. The corkscrew fell from his hand into the filth and blood.
Now that Scarred-face was seeing it closer, why was his prisoner’s face so handsome? Didn’t he already rip it to pieces before? Why were his bones not broken? And the most shocking…his eyes. The eyes of the prisoner were previously vitreous and empty, but now…now they were filled with hatred and a burning desire to live as if it were his first day in this place.
A second later, Glenn swung the chain attached to his left hand’s wrist at the jailer’s face, ripping away his jaw and digging a bloody path in his cheek. The jailer fell to the ground without even having a chance to react, completely knocked out. Blood flowed out of his mouth and mixed with the dirty floor. Glenn looked at the chain with an approving gaze, before pulling Scarred-face closer and pilfering through his pockets. He found a single key, old and rusted, and tried to find the keyhole for his restraints.
Only, there were no keyholes.
“...What the fuck?” He blurted out, manipulating the restraints and moving them to make sure he hadn’t missed the keyhole.
“Seems like they’re welded around your limbs. Well, that’s magic for you. Better get used to it.”
Diamanes’ mocking voice made Glenn grimace, but there was some truth in the entity’s words. He had to think openly, without preconceived ideas, and admit that even the craziest things he could imagine would probably not come close to the reality of this world. After all, who could imagine something like his situation?
The jailer’s body moved slightly, startling Glenn. He hurriedly punched him in the back of the head, to make sure he wouldn’t wake up right away. Even if he tried to hit lightly, his fist had managed to open a wound in Scarred-face’s bald head. Glenn frowned as he suddenly realized that..he could recognize that symbol on the jailer’s head. These scars…they formed a pattern…a circle wrapped in thorny vines with a cross in its center… Glenn paled as he realized it was the same emblem as the one carved on that creepy church’s door.
“Shit... Have I been captured by some kind of sick cult? Holy shit...” He swore, shaking his head. Diamanes laughed, very pleased with the situation.
“At least that adds some spiciness to your life in this world, doesn’t it?”
Glenn gritted his teeth and hissed through them, “...I certainly could have done without it…” He glanced down at the jailer and grimaced at the growing pool of fresh blood.
“I hope I didn’t kill him…” He muttered half-heartedly.
“Chances are, he’s not going to wake up. But, it’s not like he didn’t deserve it, right?” Diamanes laughed wickedly. With everything Scarred-face did to Glenn, it was already quite the surprise that his host hadn’t ripped him apart in a thousand, small pieces and began drinking his blood from his skull while playing basketball with his heart.
“...If I could avoid thoughtless murder, it’d be great…and…” He crouched next to the body while pressing the piss-rag on the wound.
“If that’s how you want to play it…” Diamanes said dismissively. Glenn rubbed his chin, lost in thoughts…
“What if…” Looking down at the jailer, he began to undress him, a rather complicated operation with only one free hand. Diamanes groaned in disgust.
“Alright, I totally get the revenge thing, but even for me, that’s too much. I never thought you were this kind of individual. You disgust me, and I am deeply ashamed of being associated with you,” The entity said with disappointment and regret.
“Shut it.” The jailer was only wearing a black, dirty robe and no underwear under it, but Glenn couldn’t care less about that. Ignoring the now naked body on the floor, he rolled the robe around the chain holding his right wrist, muffling as best he could the clatter. He pulled a few times, checking if his plan was viable, before ripping the chain out of the wall. It made a bit of noise, but it was still dull enough for it to be mistaken for a random noise of the prison. It will have to do anyway because he was certainly not going to sit on his ass while waiting for someone to free him.
“That’s one done, two left…” He muttered, before repeating the operation for the restraints on his ankles. He couldn’t get rid of the chains—they were too strong for him to break with his hands—so he’d have to be satisfied with dragging them around. They did make killer weapons, though, so that was one positive thing. As for the ankle chains, Glenn wrapped them around his legs so they wouldn’t rattle against the ground.
“Alright, all ready to go…” Glenn muttered with satisfaction while dusting his hands off. He turned toward the unconscious jailer, contemplating for a few seconds what to do with the body. He glanced at the corkscrew and another item he found in the robe, the damned Beast Blood syringe. The corner of his lips curved upward as he found the exact opportunity to make the jailer pay back what he owed him.
“Alright, let’s start by waking him up…oh! And let’s not forget to muffle him…” He whispered with a wicked voice, an evil voice laughing in his head. He gagged the jailer with the bloody, piss-infused rag, before grabbing the corkscrew thing and starting using it on the jailer’s ass. It took a good five minutes until the jailer woke up from the pain, terrified, destabilized, and a corkscrew stabbed deeply into his ass’ cheek. Glenn hurriedly broke both his arms and legs with swift movements, making it look as easy as breaking twigs. The jailer tried to cry out in pain, but the gagging rag prevented him from doing so.
“Shh...shh, if you talk, I'll tear you to pieces and eat you, so shut the fuck up,” Glenn threatened with a mixture of coldness and madness. The jailer froze in fear as Glenn gently removed the rag from his mouth. With a calm smile, he showed him the syringe while moistening his lips.
“You know where this is going, don’t you?”
The jailer’s eyes widened even more than they previously were as Glenn shoved the syringe into his throat while pouring its contents into it. The jailer coughed as he grabbed at his throat, terrified. He reached for Glenn his face became as black as coal with veins of green while clawing desperately at his throat. Glenn gave him one last smile, before punching him in the face and knocking him down.
“There, that’s probably worse than death, and a fraction of what you probably deserve,” Glenn spat before picking up the key and the still-lit candle from earlier. Without another second of hesitation, he left the cell and closed it behind him, imprisoning the jailer to die forgotten by the world. Glenn stretched, the heavy feeling weighing down his chest fading away. People said revenge never was the solution.
Well, that was a lie. Revenge had never been so sweet.
“I’m impressed. This show of violence exceeds my expectations, given what I saw in your memories,” Diamanes whistled approvingly. After all, Glenn had always been a law-abiding citizen, never getting into a serious life his whole life. Seeing him torturing the jailer in such a way was understandable, and yet surprising. Not shocking, just surprising.
Glenn shrugged as the joy from getting rid of this piece of shit jailer faded away, replaced by a determination to get out of the prison.
“I’ve returned him a fraction of what he gave me. That’s only fair.”
Diamanes grinned, satisfied with Glenn’s actions. The latter looked at his bloodied hands in contemplation, realizing that he was probably not too human anymore. After all, he was strong enough to rip chains off the wall. If this wasn’t some monster-level type of strength, he didn’t know what it was. And this was only the beginning, too. If he trusted Diamanes’ words, he was also a Mage now, an Initiate. He just had to understand how to use magic to start having fun with it.
“What did I tell you? You will gain powers beyond your imagination, and stand above the ones standing above the sky. That’s what I, Diamanes, promised you,” the entity proudly gloated, earning a sneer out of his host.
“Well, that’s a nice dream, but maybe I’d like to get out of this hole before standing at the top,” Glenn sarcastically answered.
Diamanes grumbled something about ruining his effect while Glenn gave one last glance at his cell. 3333. That was his cell number. Glenn chuckled dejectedly.
“Huh. How fun. Three is my lucky number,” Glenn commented aloud, “Quite ironic, ain’t that right?”
Diamanes had he possessed the ability to raise an eyebrow, would have undoubtedly done so upon hearing that. Glenn snickered and made sure the door was closed, before turning to the cell’s surroundings, searching for the way out.
“Time to break the hell out of this place…”