William leaned against some musty wood surface in the town square and sucked on his wooden pipe.
"Nothing to do," he muttered. "Nothing to do."
His family was off doing important work. Of course they fucking were. Leaving him alone at home with not much to do. William didn't really have a job. He didn't need one. The money he got from his family was plenty enough to sustain him, so he wagered living on that was better than doing back-breaking labour.
As that was the only type of labour, he could get. He had no skills, nothing special about him at all, average in all departments, except for perhaps the blue window floating above him, telling him:
[You have been chosen]
He figured somebody had put something strange in his pipe. That was the most rational explanation he could come up with. And with drugs, he knew waiting would make them go away.
But he was bored. He wanted something to do to get him out of this damned, life-leeching town. He figured that was why his parents were out working as much as they were. Either that, him, or maybe even each other.
"Hey, Will, I was just looking for you," an old man approached him. Well, he wasn't old, but his body was worn out. The stress showed clearly on his skin, his forehead carrying at least ten wrinkles and many more scars. The man's name was Charles, and he was a mercenary William got along alright with.
"Hey," Will said and blew out smoke. "What made you look for me?"
"We need an extra man for the caravan to Charlock. About a four hours ride. Doubt you'll have to do much. Just having another person should scare off any bandits. So what'd you say?"
William knew that wasn't the real reason he was offered this position. If anything did go wrong, or they were captured, William's parents could make a large enough fuss for them to be rescued. It had happened before. That said, William was bored, and he didn't mind Charles too much, so he figured why not.
At least it'll get me away from this damned town.
"Sure, when are we heading out?"
***
Directly. That was the answer. He was taken to where the other men were and given a sword, a helmet, and some leather armour to wear. He didn't know much about handling a blade, but he didn't think there was much to learn about it. Swing it up and down, chop things. Anybody could do that.
The caravan contained six horses, two for each carriage. There were about ten merchants and twenty mercenaries. William wondered what the merchants brought that needed so much protection, but they wouldn't talk about it, and the cargo was hidden beneath black covers and inside thick wooden boxes.
Drugs? Probably drugs.
He took a seat behind the horses on the middle carriage and spent most of his time watching the trees and forest around them. The air was fresh, and it was a calm ride.
Until a loud horn blew.
It came with such high volume that William's teeth and chin shook and shivered. He jerked upright at the sound, looking around at what might warrant it. Immediately, his gut told him something was very wrong.
"Enemies!" He recognized Charles shouted.
William's sight, which had been lazily placed on the trees, focused on two figures appearing behind the bushes. A hob-goblin wielding a large stick, and a smaller, albeit just as ugly, goblin carrying a wand.
Fuck. William clenched his sword, finding it very calming at the moment and looked around for the other mercenaries, seeing them wielding their swords high and preparing for combat. Just a couple of goblins should be easy work.
Then, he noticed a blood-red gas seeping from the ground around them and up to the sky. It got into his breath and forced itself around his body. He felt weaker, the sword much heavier, and his senses dulling. The window suddenly changed.
[The skill Lesser Mental Resistance has been gained.]
Mental? What's that supposed to mean?
Thump! His pupils jerked towards the sound and found a mercenary, fully clad in armour, falling down on the ground. Above him, a hobgoblin stood with a mean frown. Their eyes connected for a moment, and William jerked his head towards the other side of the caravans, deducing that was where he was needed.
[The skill Lesser Mental Resistance has reached level 2]
He wobbled off the carriage and jumped down onto the ground. He saw nearly eight merchants fighting with hobgoblins. Standing in the back, beside the bushes, were tiny goblins which would occasionally swish their wands and send lightning hurtling towards the merchants.
William saw it hit one man, who shook uncontrollably. It stopped with a club smashing into his temple and sending him toppling. The merchants shrieked and screamed, and around the battlefield, William saw that they were losing.
We're losing? I didn't sign up for this.
Ignoring the battle, he broke into a sprint towards the forest, hoping to escape this mess. He didn't fear being labelled as a deserter. Nobody here was going to leave living, and last time he checked, dead men, don't sing no songs.
He jumped over the bushes, landed on the ground and regained his balance to keep running. He didn't know where he was going as long as it was away from this place. Fear and adrenaline empowered him to push his muscles harder than he had ever done before.
[The skill Lesser Mental Resistance has reached level 3]
He glanced behind him, and his eyes widened at the sight of two goblins with wands chasing him. One swung its wand, sending electricity hurtling towards him. It struck him in the right leg, ripping his control of it away. It kicked and jerked in a random direction, breaking his balance.
Damn traitor.
[The skill Lesser Shock Resistance has been gained]
He toppled down on the ground and fought for his leg for control. A maniacal giggle caught his attention, and he jerked his head backwards to see the goblins standing above him. One swung its wand right towards his head. The next moment his entire body spasmed.
[The skill Lesser Shock Resistance has reached level 2]
"Please stop. Don't you know who my father is? He'll kill y-zzzzz."
[The skill Lesser Shock Resistance has reached level 3]
"He'll skin you filthy fucking goblins. He'll put you through unimaginable pain," William spat.
One goblin looked to the left, then right, and its smile grew wider. "I don't see him."
Electricity entered his system again. A shot of pain. An unmanly squeal left his mouth alongside drool. Then another one.
[The skill Lesser Shock Resistance has reached level 4]
"Please," William said with tears in his eyes. "I'll give you wha-zzzz."
The goblins maniacally giggled.
"What you two doing?" A deeper voice from behind said. "Boss said no kill. Are you killing?"
A hobgoblin with a club came into his sight.
Oh please no.
"Stupid ogre," one goblin spat. "We are just having a-bam!"
The hobgoblin smashed its club into the goblin's head, sending it toppling into the ground. His yellow pupils turned to the other goblin, which took a step back in fear. A smile spread across the hobgoblin's lips. He made his way towards William and raised his club.
"Please," William managed to get in before the club struck his head, and his sight turned black.
***
"Rise and shine, sunshine," a deep voice said with a hint of a smile. It was roughly two meters away. As William's eyes opened, he saw a man sitting across the table. Everything about him was average, except for his eyes, which were deep red.
He noticed the window was still there, hovering slightly to the side of the metal table ahead of him. It showed him new information and made him recall the club that had struck his head. The memory came with a splash of panic.
[The skill Lesser Physical Resistance has been gained.]
He stood up, knocking the chair he sat on down to the ground. It fell and bounced backwards with a resounding clang. He felt isolated, the small cell-like room with no windows and a low ceiling getting to him. There was only a door made out of a black substance, a hole in the corner, and a small light. Also, he was completely naked.
"Where am I?" He shouted. "Don't you know who my father is?"
"Let's calm down. I like to start all of my projects with an introduction, so pick that chair up, put it in its place, and sit down."
William's body moved without his acknowledgement. He was still aware, but no matter how much he willed and pushed his arms to stop moving, they continued on their path, gripping the metal chair and placing it down. He couldn't control anything but his thought during this forced hypnosis he'd been put under.
[The skill Lesser Mental Resistance has reached level 4]
"What the hell did you do to me?" William said, straining his lungs with force.
"Lots of questions," the man said. "I suppose that's good. Anyhow, apart from your name, I don't know much about you. I suppose we'll get to know each other quite well sooner or later, but for now, I'll tell you my name. Demarcus."
"Alright, I'm William. Where am I?"
"That I already know, but what I'd like to ask you, is whether you would like to begin with your fingers, or with your teeth."
"What are you talking about?"
"Answer the question. Fingers, or teeth."
"What the hell type of question is that!?"
"If you don't want to participate in the process then that's on you. I'll start with your fingers. So then William, I'd like for you to stop moving your body."
[The skill Lesser Mental Resistance has reached level 5]
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Demarcus stood up from his chair in an orderly fashion. He slowly pushed his chair back without making much noise, stood to the side, and slowly moved it back. He made his way around the table and grabbed William's left wrist. His touch was icy-cold.
What the hell are you doing? Stop! William felt panic and stress well up inside of him. The man's grip on his wrist was rough and rugged. He lifted his hand and placed it on the table, then the tip of his nails pinched the edge of William's thumb's nail, and ri~i~ipped it off.
The pain was immediate, intense, agonizing. A great urge to scream struck against the spell that had him in its grips and stopped flat. But even though the pain wasn't reflected, the edges of his mind wrinkled and bent and shook, black dots appearing in his sight.
[The skill Lesser Pain Resistance has been gained.]
"Now then," Demarcus said. "Would you like your forefinger or your middle finger next?"
I'll fucking kill you. I'll fucking destroy you. I swear it!
"Oh right, you can't answer, can you? How could I forget that? Don't worry, I'll pick for you."
***
[The skill Lesser Pain Resistance has reached level 10.]
[The skill Lesser Pain Resistance has evolved into Pain Resistance.]
[The skill Lesser Hemorrhage Resistance has reached level 4.]
[Due to repeated damage on the skin, the skill Rough Skin has been gained.]
Alone, his cheeks stained with tears of agony, William stared at his hands. Fingerless.
Demarcus had begun by peeling off each fingernail. Some he did slowly, others he did quickly. At some moments, William had blacked out, his mind failing under the immense weight of the pain. Demarcus didn't mind. He simply waited for William to regain awareness. Then, he chopped his fingers one after the other, like peeling cheese, taking the tiniest bit off with each chop.
William sat on the chair, shivering and crying. Why me? What have I done to deserve this torture? Why me?
After a while, he stood up.
Suddenly, rage took over his face, and he knocked the table over, kicking it from beneath. He walked over and stomped on it. Bam. Bam. Bam. He kicked the chairs, bending their metal. He made his way to the door and started kicking it. Unlike the other objects in the room, this one didn't vibrate against his assault.
William lay down on the floor. Fuck this life. Fuck everything about this. Demarcus, I'll tell you one thing right now. You won't break me. I'll survive this fucking horror, and then I'll repay you ten-fold. Just you wait.
Next, his attention fell on the hole. Am I supposed to shit in that? He stood up and walked to it, leaning and peering into the black hole. It smelled decent. Fresh air seemed to seep out of it, which considering the heat that covered his body in sweat, made him think shit and piss weren't down there.
Could this be a way of escaping? No. Demarcus couldn't have overlooked something so simple. There must be something else to it, but what? It's large enough for me to fit through.
He thought about his options. Either it was sitting in this room, waiting for Demarcus to come back and… No. Whatever this hole was, perhaps a twisted, sick game, it would be better than he had here.
He sat down and lowered his feet into the darkness. After, he lowered his body too. The hole was tight, meaning that he could push his back into the wall with his legs and descend slowly. He edged down, feeling the tunnel widening as he went deeper.
It was pitch black when he realized he couldn't edge his way any further. It was just too wide. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself. Then, giggling at the futile attempt, he pulled back his legs, angled them downwards, and fell into the void.
Crunch!
The bones of his legs twisted, shortening to about half their size. He screamed and shrieked in agony. At least I'm away from that room, he tried to calm himself. At least I'm not there anymore.
He had fallen for six seconds, accelerating to a swift speed. The ground was hard and warm. Probably stone. He couldn't move his legs. Well, he could, but they couldn't do anything other than slowly rise and descend, and that hurt like hell.
To his right, about four meters away, he heard streaming water. Or he assumed it was water, but it could have been anything. He felt the wet air when he breathed in. He figured he would have felt it on his skin too if he wasn't coated in sweat.
He couldn't get much of a grip without his fingers, but that didn't stop him from trying. He strained his arms downwards and, through friction, tried to pull himself forward. He wanted to get as far away from that room as possible, then he'd think about his future prospects.
The only thing he could see in the darkness was the blue square. It was stuck on the last notification he'd gotten.
[Due to repeated damage on the skin, the skill Rough Skin has been gained.]
He wondered if there might be something to it. Drug-induced hallucinations disappeared after some time. The illusions tied to the world disappear when you travel to another spot. But this one had remained through time and location. He knew feeding illusions was a surefire way to go crazy, but maybe there was something more to this.
Without his vision, his other senses became more acute. He could taste all of the minerals of the blood in his mouth. The dry, metallic taste boomed. His hearing was more clear. It felt a lot stronger than it had been. He could hear the patterns of the liquid. The occasional splashes, the rhythmic movement of the waves, the streaming. And then something more, a pitter-patter against the floor, something moving against him.
He jerked his head in its direction, more out of instinct than anything else, but there, he found two red dots much larger than he would have liked. They were about the size of golf balls and rapidly approached him.
He felt the creature nibbling on his leg. A jolt of pain shot through his body and came out of him through a loud screech. The creature jumped back, and then it ran away. Thank god, William said and felt something wrong about the statement in his gut. He discounted it and continued crawling forward, away from the room.
The window changed.
[The skill Lesser Disease Resistance has been gained.]
You can't be serious. He felt the alien substance slowly seeping through his body, from his leg into his torso, towards his heart and then around his body. He felt much weaker. He thought that was strange. Diseases took time to register. This was damned.
The pitter-patter returned, and he jerked his head back. At the same time, he felt something odd forming on his skin, a sort of tumour growing out of his skin, seeping out sweat. Then the pitter-patter grew, not in volume but in amount.
He spotted multiple red eyes.
If you want me dead this badly, fate, then go ahead.
Even though resignation filled him, he still struggled and jerked as the wolf-sized creatures bit and tore through him. His screams and shrieks filled the dark space, but it didn't do any good for him. If anything, it filled the creatures with more energy, their eating growing faster.
[The skill Lesser Disease Resistance has reached level 2.]
He died.
***
Demarcus chuckled, breaking William out of his sleep. "You didn't think death would allow you to escape me right?"
"Wait, what?" William said, looking around his naked body. He was fully healed, his fingers back; the disease gone; his legs healed. He couldn't believe it. He was against the hard stone floor just a moment ago, being eaten alive.
"Death isn't an escape," Demarcus said.
"How," William said, "am I still alive? Was it all a dream?"
"It was not all a dream. None of this is a dream. You died, but you can't be dead for our session can you?"
"So you brought me back?" William said.
"Who said you were ever gone in the first place," Demarcus said, and his pupils jumped to the light above them for a brief moment. What the hell does that mean?
"Why?" William said. "Why are you doing this to me?"
It was a strange thing. After he woke up from death, his mind was blank and clear. The thoughts and memories surfaced some emotion, some panic and horror, but nowhere as much as they did before. His mind was more or less clear, and he could think rationally.
"Now that's the question," Demarcus said. "Now then, would you prefer your fingers or teeth?"
"Please. I beg of you. I'll give you whatever you want. Just please don't do this to me again."
"Teeth it is."
***
[The skill Pain Resistance has reached level 9.]
[The skill Lesser Hemorrhage Resistance has reached level 5.]
[Due to repeated exposure, the skill Demarcus's Torture Technique has been gained.]
William sat in the corner, weeping. I'll kill that bastard. He thought he knew anger, but the anger he knew before was simply a child's toy. No. This rage inside of him was something entirely different. It burned within him, destroying everything it touched, and begged to come out. Somehow.
He pulled at his hair as he spat out the blood building up in his mouth. Somehow, the pain he inflicted himself tuned the havoc inside him down.
The only thing within him stronger than his urge to hurt Demarcus was his urge to avoid the torture. His mind shot around, forcing itself to devise methods to escape. Unfortunately, the rage wasn't helping.
He spit the blood out.
"I need to calm down," he stated. Despite the nonexistent state of his teeth, his tongue still worked. Perhaps it was kindness if one could call such a thing kindness. The devil's kindness. He chuckled.
"Alright, deep breaths," he said. "Just a couple of deep breaths. Shouldn't be hard, right William? Not hard at all."
Feeling a bit better about his situation, he looked at his options. There were two of them, the hole and the door. Currently, he couldn't do much to the door. It was made out of a substance too hard for him to destroy and lock. The same could more or less be said for the walls around him.
That really only left the hole.
Going down, becoming blind and breaking his legs resulted in him being tortured. He needed to go out of his way to ensure he didn't die. It was very important.
At the moment, falling down the hole would break his legs. They just weren't strong enough to sustain the fall. If he fell head first, on the other hand, he'd break his neck and die that way. If he truly returned to life from death, then piling his bodies at the bottom was an option.
The more he thought about it, the less realistic it seemed. At best, he'd tell the smaller creatures where they could reliably find food. They'd eat all the soft parts of his body, making it useless as an option.
Perhaps falling horizontally might do the trick, spread out the fall. But that would result in him hitting his head and passing out, at best.
Maybe the hole was off limits too at the moment. What more do I have? Come on, think.
He looked at the window in a new light. If he went off the assumption that it wasn't an illusion. Come on, it can't be an illusion. What illusion goes through death? He decided to discard his previous scepticism and treat the windows as something else.
They seemed to allow him to grow, although he wasn't sure exactly how. His level of pain resistance had gone up quite a lot, but the pain felt as real as before. Perhaps not as powerful, though. It didn't impact him as much as it did in the start. Maybe. He wasn't sure about that, his thoughts of the pain back then muddy. Maybe he'd just grown used to it all.
But he had gained one skill that caught his attention, namely, Rough Skin, which supposedly would make his skin stronger. That should be impossible. Enchantment was the only thing he knew that could do the same thing. Potions too, but they were temporary.
How did I get that skill? It had said something along the lines of repeated exposure. In other words, if he continuously experienced it, his body would adapt. Perhaps the same concept applied to other topics.
Let's test it out. I don't have anything better for me to do.
Making space for himself in the room, he began doing pushups, situps, and squats. He was going to transform his body into something gods would fear, and then, he'd make his escape.
***
[Strength has gone up by 0.1]
[Stamina has gone up by 0.1]
[Endurance has gone up by 0.1]
Messages like that showed up occasionally throughout his training. His plan had worked, although he couldn't feel the fruits of his labour. His body was simply too broken to notice the gains.
After nearly three hours of training, the door to his holding cell opened, and Demarcus walked in, shocked to see William on the floor and panting. William's eyes shot open with fear and panic at the same time. He had thought torture was a one-time-a-day type of thing.
"That's one way to pass the time," Demarcus said. "Although I'm shocked you didn't go down the hole. Anyhow, our session's starting now, so get up, and take a seat."
William had felt his body was out of energy as if he'd torn his muscles to the point where they couldn't function, but he was wrong. His body cried out in pain, but despite that, it stood up and did as Demarcus asked.
Interesting.
"It's as disgusting to see you as always, you disgusting son of a bitch," William said.
"I see that we're in a better mood than we were before," Demarcus said. "That can be changed."
"Fuck you."
"Is this all the conversation's going to be?"
He's going to freeze me. William feared the thought and quickly quieted down. Whilst the insults felt good, they were pointless. No, Demarcus was in for a much worse fate if William had anything to say about it, but at the moment, William had to bide his time, and the information he could gain from Demarcus could help him.
"That hole," William said and pointed. "Why is it there?"
"Why not?" Demarcus said.
They give me a means of escape. That was certainly something William wasn't going to say. "What's down there?"
"It's an interesting story actually," Demarcus said. "It's an relic of this city. There had been thoughts to fix it and make it a part of the city again, that was when the most dangerous thing down there were the rats."
"Then things changed," Demarcus continued. "Other more dangerous creature's started popping up, and everybody just shot the task of clearing that place to some other time. Then, real monsters started popping up."
"But you know, nobody really cared. It wasn't like they came up. They just remained down there, not bothering us and in exchange we didn't bother them. It was really simple, just don't go down there."
"After a certain matter of time, that place became too dangerous to simply clear. The monster's were too strong, and a sort of ecosystem had even formed. Although everything was still functioning. They didn't bother us, and we didn't bother them. They took care of their own population through natural means."
"When you say," William said, "really dangerous creature's what exactly do you mean?"
"...Which one is it going to be, your penis, or your back?"
"My back," William said without hesitation.
"Good choice."
***
[The skill Rough Skin has reached level 4.]
[The skill Pain Resistance has reached level 10.]
[The skill Pain Resistance has evolved into Greater Pain Resistance.]
[The skill Lesser Hemorrhage Resistance has reached level 8.]
[The skill Demarcus's Torture Technique has reached level 2.]
Why me? Why me?Whyme?Whyme?Whymewhymewhymewhymewhyme…
Demarcus had created abstract art with his rough knife and William's back. Slash up and down. Down and up. Maybe he even sketched some letters in there. Real technical stuff.
For practical purposes, he should have chosen his junk. At least then, he could train. But just the thought of Demarcus cutting into his penis was enough to make William cringe. No, he had made the right choice. Damn the logic.
With exercising gone, he tried to figure out what to do. With so much pain and agony floating around him, it was difficult to think. He figured he might just end it all and enter the hole head first, but that would only lead him back to where he started. Maybe he'd get a smaller, less essential muscle he could choose then, but he doubted it.
This was torture, after all. He needed to use his resources as best as he could. He strained his mind for answers. Something for him to do. Some sort of way for him to exploit the system.
Magic?
That was it! He'd never learned magic as he'd never possessed the capacity for it. He knew that as a certain fact. His father, a high-tiered magus, had gone out of his way to try every single method to teach him magic, but it simply hadn't been passed on to him. And that seldom happened.
But now, with this supposed window giving him the ability to grow, that fact might have changed. Either way, he wasn't sure how to go about learning magic. His father had always given him tools imbued with mana which would make it possible to sense it. Simply closing his eyes and straining himself to sense mana as hard as he could just cut it, he thought.
He looked around the room, and his sight stopped on the flask-like light source attached to the ceiling. That wasn't fire within it, which William concluded must have meant it was some sort of magic.
Maybe if he removed the glass covering it, and got to the core substance, letting it roam free within him, his body would adapt to using it. It was the best thing he could come up with.
He managed to stand on the table and grab the lightbulb through a lot of grunting, squeezing, and manoeuvring of his arms. He wasn't standing as much so as he was hanging. The wire was enough to contain his weight, but only barely.
He grabbed the glass and immediately noticed how hot it was. It burned into his skin, forcing his hands away. But, of course, it had to be warm. Why can't anything be easy? Gritting his teeth, he forced himself through the burning pain and pulled at the glass again. He doubted he could have withstood this much pain before.
Pulling wasn't doing the trick. He tried rotating it, but it was more out of frustration than it was reason, luckily, it worked, and the glass came off. He tossed it against the wall, letting it shatter. Am I going to get in trouble for that? Like it can get any worse than this.
For the next part of his plan, he touched the strange inside and the bright light, and he felt all of the muscles within his body start spasming. This continued until he found enough will in him to rip his hands away from the light.
[The skill Lesser Shock Resistance has reached level 5]
Shock? Wait a second, does this mean this is lightning? How the hell does that work? This feels a lot weaker than what I experienced before, though. So if I continue to do this, will I gain the capacity to control lightning? Only one wait to find out.
Shaking, William plunged his hands back into the light.