Chapter 32

621 lay still on the cold stone table, his senses gradually returning to him as he blinked away the remnants of drowsiness. Above him, the shopkeeper's figure loomed, casting a shadow that seemed to stretch across the dimly lit chamber.

The man's eyes gleamed with an unsettling fervor, an intensity that bordered on madness, as if he derived some perverse pleasure from the ordeal that lay ahead.

"You wish to delve into the dark arts," he began, his voice a low, ominous rumble that echoed off the stone walls. "But such power is not granted lightly. It must be earned, proven."

His words hung heavy in the air, laden with an ominous weight that sent a shiver down 621's spine. The shopkeeper continued, his tone laced with a mixture of fascination and malice.

"You have the gall to seek true power, an admirable pursuit. But first, we must ascertain whether you possess the necessary aptitude, the latent potential required to wield such power."

As he spoke, the shopkeeper's hands moved with a sinister grace, gesturing towards the array of arcane instruments that lined the walls of the chamber. Each told of a purpose obscured by layers of dust and grime.

"Hence, you will undergo a series of experiments," the shopkeeper declared, his voice reverberating through the chamber like a solemn decree.

"Trials that will test your resilience, your endurance, and ultimately, your worthiness to walk the path of darkness."

621 listened in silence, his heart pounding in his chest as he struggled to comprehend the gravity of the situation. He had sought the shopkeeper's tutelage in hopes of upgrading his potential, but now, faced with the daunting reality of what lay ahead, he couldn't help but feel a flicker of doubt creep into his mind.

Yet despite his misgivings, a stubborn determination burned within him, driving him to steel himself for whatever lay ahead; besides he was already in too deep. For better or worse, he was committed to seeing this through to the end, no matter the cost.

As 621 braced himself for the trials ahead, the shopkeeper wasted no time in initiating the first phase of his experiments. With an air of calculated precision, he began by subjecting 621 to a series of basic physical examinations, each one designed to assess his body's readiness for the rigors of dark arts practice.

First, the shopkeeper examined 621's pulse and heartbeat, his fingers deftly feeling for irregularities or abnormalities that might indicate underlying health issues. Next, he conducted a thorough assessment of 621's physical strength and agility, testing his flexibility, reflexes, and overall dexterity through a series of simple exercises and maneuvers.

Following this initial evaluation, the shopkeeper moved on to more invasive procedures, utilizing a variety of arcane devices and implements to probe and prod at 621's body. He conducted tests to measure 621's resistance to pain and discomfort, subjecting him to mild electric shocks and pressure points to gauge his tolerance levels.

As the shopkeeper conducted the examinations, his movements were accompanied by a series of cryptic murmurs and muttered incantations, spoken in a language that sounded ancient and arcane. With each whispered phrase, he seemed to invoke strange energies, channeling them into the arcane devices and instruments he wielded with practiced precision.

The shopkeeper's expression remained inscrutable as he worked, his eyes glittering with an intensity that bordered on obsession. Every now and then, he would pause to study 621's reactions, his gaze lingering on the slightest twitch or tremor as if seeking some hidden truth buried within the depths of his being.

Throughout the examinations, 621 remained stoic and unflinching, determined to endure whatever trials the shopkeeper saw fit to impose upon him. Yet beneath his outward facade of composure, a sense of unease gnawed at him, fueled by the shopkeeper's unsettling demeanor and the ominous aura that permeated the chamber.

However, he dared not question his doubts openly, lest he jeopardized his chances of attaining the forbidden knowledge he so desperately sought.

..

“Now for the real test,” the shopkeeper said as he presented 621 a strange pill about the size of a marble, its dull sheen barely capturing the surrounding light and its stench which smelled of literal shit seemed to invade his nostrils.

As 621 gazed warily at the spherical pill presented before him, he couldn't help but wrinkle his nose in disgust at its foul odor, he deemed it an assault on his senses.

"Is this... necessary?" 621 asked tentatively, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty as he eyed the pill.

The shopkeeper's response was cryptic, his expression unreadable as he simply nodded in affirmation, his gaze fixed intently on 621 as if daring him to refuse.

"This pill," the shopkeeper began, his voice low and gravelly, "is naturally a crucial component for the next phase of your aptitude testing."

“Relax. It isn’t poison, though its smell might make you think otherwise, I guarantee that it isn’t,” he smiled.

“That would be too easy” he murmured mysteriously.

Despite his misgivings, 621 knew that he had come too far to turn back now. With a resigned mental sigh, he reached out to accept the pill, steeling himself for whatever trials lay ahead.

As the pill slid down his throat, 621 felt a wave of nausea wash over him, accompanied by a sharp, metallic taste that lingered on his tongue. Clenching his jaw against the unpleasant sensation, he forced himself to swallow.

The moment 621 felt the effects of the pill take hold, a sense of trepidation soon washed over him, intensifying with each passing moment. He watched in mounting horror as the shopkeeper's smile twisted into something altogether more sinister, his expression morphing into one of cruel satisfaction as he approached the wall of tools with deliberate intent.

With a flick of his wrist, the shopkeeper immobilized 621 on the stone table, rendering him utterly helpless against whatever twisted machinations lay in store. Straining against his restraints, 621 could only watch helplessly as the shopkeeper destroyed his upper garments with a single, effortless gesture, leaving him exposed and vulnerable before the looming threat.

The sound of metal scraping against stone filled the air as the shopkeeper selected a sizable knife from the array of tools, its gleaming surface catching the dim light in a malevolent glint. With a cold, calculated precision, the shopkeeper turned his attention back to 621, his gaze predatory as he approached with slow, deliberate steps.

The shopkeeper's voice cut through the heavy silence, dripping with suppressed malice as he spoke. "You see, pawn, the true test of one's aptitude lies not in their ability to wield power, but in their willingness to endure suffering," he intoned, his words laced with a cruel edge.

621's breath caught in his throat, a cold shiver coursing down his exposed spine as he struggled against his bonds. "What... what are you planning to do?" he managed to choke out, his voice filled with apprehension.

A devilish grin twisted the corners of the shopkeeper's lips as he brandished the knife before 621's staring eyes.

"Oh, just a little experiment," he replied, his tone dripping with sadistic amusement.

"You see, I want to see just how resilient you truly are, aptitude is important after all."

Without delaying any further, the shopkeeper immediately began to cast a long triangular incision across 621’s pale chest drawing prickles of blood as the blade glided across his skin which offered little resistance towards the blade’s unmatched sharpness.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

This caused 621 to scream mentally with pain as he clenched his teeth with focused intensity. He dared not to scream openly for he rejected the notion of vulnerability; an instinct borne of years of torturous experiences within the confines of the Order.

The shopkeeper's movements were methodical, almost clinical, as he worked, his hands steady and sure as they delved into 621's exposed chest cavity. Each incision sent waves of searing pain coursing through 621's body, threatening to overwhelm him, but he gritted his teeth and bore it with grim determination.

Soon as each incision was cruelly connected to one another, the shopkeeper placed his knife down before single handedly ‘opening’ up 621’s chest by casting aside his cut skin, thereafter exposing his inner cavity.

Immediately, 621 saw his equally pale ribcage spanning across his chest housing all of his innards beneath, a bewildering sight which attempted to dissuade his external façade. He was forced to watch this; a test of resilience.

As the shopkeeper meticulously examined his innards, 621 felt a strange mix of horror and fascination wash over him. He watched in silent disbelief as the shopkeeper probed his organs, muttering incomprehensible comments under his breath. Despite the agony, 621 couldn't tear his gaze away, his mind racing with questions and uncertainties.

The sight of his own flesh laid bare before him was surreal, almost too surreal, and yet there was a strange sense of clarity that came with it. He felt as though he were seeing himself in a new light, stripped of pretense and artifice, exposed to the raw truth of his own existence.

But amidst the pain and confusion, there was something else stirring within him, a strange sense of exhilaration that he couldn't quite explain. He felt energized for some reason, strangely he felt that it forced him to stay awake, to witness this brutal operation.

“Was it the pill?” he thought with difficulty, his mind muddled with pain.

The murmurs of the shopkeeper were a mix of medical observations and cryptic mutterings as 621 struggled to listen in. Much of his words informed him of things he wasn’t privy to.

"Remarkable," the man muttered, his voice a low rumble. "The positioning of the liver... quite unusual."

"Whatsmore, there’s this," he remarked, his tone tinged with intrigue. "The size of the spleen... larger than average, yet fully functional."

“Would it be the heart?” he mumbled.

“My heart?” 621 thought he had heard wrong, but the next course of actions that the shopkeeper undertook stunned him.

He watched on as the man returned to the wall of obscure tools before returning with an ominous instrument, its purpose unknown to him until it was too late.

With a swift and precise motion, the shopkeeper began the grisly task of cutting through 621's ribcage, bone by bone, methodically severing each one to expose his inner organs.

The sound of scraping metal against bone filled the air, accompanied by 621's muffled cries of agony as he struggled against the restraints. Each bone yielded to the relentless assault of the shopkeeper's blade, splintering and snapping under the pressure, sending waves of pain coursing through 621's body.

Despite his best efforts to remain composed, 621 couldn't suppress the guttural groans that escaped his lips with each excruciating cut. His vision blurred with tears of pain, his muscles tense and trembling as he endured the torturous ordeal, but the pills effect forced him to stay fully conscious.

Meanwhile, the shopkeeper worked with an eerie calmness, his movements fluid and precise as he silently dissected 621's ribcage, exposing his innermost secrets with a surgeon's precision and a madman's zeal.

And as each bone fell away, revealing more of 621's vulnerable anatomy, the shopkeeper's fascination only seemed to intensify, his eyes gleaming with a fervent curiosity that bordered on obsession.

Soon the entirety of his inner cavity was exposed to him, 621 saw it all, his organs, the connective tissues which bound them to each other, his veins, his arteries; he saw it all with forced eyes.

His breaths came in shallow gasps as he watched with wide-eyed horror, unable to tear his gaze away from the grotesque spectacle unfolding before him.

With a precision that bordered on reverence, the shopkeeper delicately maneuvered 621's organs, his fingers tracing the intricate web of veins and arteries that pulsed with life beneath his touch. Each movement sent a jolt of discomfort through 621's body, a constant reminder of his helplessness in the face of the shopkeeper's relentless examination.

And then, with a steady hand, the shopkeeper reached for 621's heart, the very essence of his being laid bare for the world to see. 621 felt a surge of panic rise within him as the shopkeeper's fingers danced over the pulsating organ, probing and prodding with a clinical detachment that sent shivers down his spine.

“It seems…normal”, the shopkeeper mused, looking slightly disheartened, his voice a low, ominous whisper that seemed to reverberate through the chamber. “Disappointing”, he murmured silently.

"You see, my dear subject," the shopkeeper whispered, his voice carrying an unsettling blend of fascination and malice, "the heart holds many secrets, secrets that even the most skilled practitioner may struggle to unlock."

His words hung heavy in the air, thick with ominous portent as he continued his examination, his fingers tracing the intricate contours of 621's beating heart with an almost reverent touch.

"And yet," the shopkeeper mused, his tone tinged with a twisted sort of glee, "there are those who dare to delve into the forbidden realms of knowledge, to pry open the mysteries of life and death themselves."

“Taboo practitioners”, 621 instinctively thought; an answer the shopkeeper seemingly led him to believe.

"And with the right knowledge," the shopkeeper continued, his voice dripping with a sinister allure, "one can harness these forces to achieve unimaginable feats."

A chill swept through 621 as he realized the true nature of the shopkeeper's experiments, the depths of his ambition laid bare before him.

"But such acts come at a cost," the shopkeeper warned, his tone deceptively nuanced. "One must be willing to sacrifice everything, to tread the path of darkness without hesitation or remorse."

621 swallowed hard, a knot of apprehension tightening in his chest as he grappled with the unknown implications of the shopkeeper's words.

"And so," the shopkeeper concluded, his voice echoing with a haunting finality, "the choice is yours, boy. Will you embrace the darkness, or will you turn away and remain forever in the shadows?"

With that ominous question hanging in the air, 621 found himself at a crossroads, his fate balanced precariously on a knife's edge as he struggled to comprehend the weight of the choice before him.

Despite the choices, 621 found it truly ironic, with his heart quite literally in the hands of the shopkeeper, the choice was clear: join him or suffer the consequences. Therefore, there really wasn’t any crossroads in his way; there was only a single path.

Yet the weight of its symbolism was not lost on him. It was a bizarre and surreal moment, one that bordered on the absurdity of a dark comedy.

With a steady gaze fixed on the shopkeeper, he squared his shoulders and nodded with difficulty, a silent vow of allegiance to the dark path laid out before him.

The shopkeeper's lips curled into a satisfied smile, a glint of triumph gleaming in his eyes as he accepted 621's unspoken pledge. With a swift motion, he released his hold on 621's heart, allowing it to settle back into its rightful place within his chest.

"Very well, little shit" the shopkeeper bellowed, his voice tinged with a mixture of approval and anticipation.

"You passed the aptitude test."

With a flick of his wrist and a muttered incantation, the shopkeeper summoned a shimmering aura of energy, weaving it into intricate patterns that danced across 621's exposed chest. The air crackled with arcane power as the energy coalesced into ethereal strands, knitting together the broken bones of 621's ribcage with astonishing precision.

As 621 watched in awe, the shopkeeper's magic worked its wonders, restoring his chest to its former state with a surreal and otherworldly grace. The jagged edges of the incision smoothed out, and the gaping cavity closed seamlessly, as if it had never been opened in the first place.

In a matter of moments, 621's chest was whole once more, his skin miraculously rejoining as if procured by some unseen force. The sensation was surreal, almost mystical, as he felt the warmth of the shopkeeper's Qi suffuse his body, banishing the lingering pain and discomfort.

With a satisfied nod, the shopkeeper stepped back, his gaze lingering on 621 with a mixture of curiosity and intrigue. "There," he declared, his voice tinged with a hint of satisfaction.

"Good as new."

621 could scarcely believe his own eyes as he gingerly prodded at his newly healed chest, marveling at the seamless restoration of his flesh and bone, with a simple flick of the wrist.

“Just like that?” he questioned deeply as he gazed at the cunning man before him with uncertainty.

The shopkeeper chuckled, a sly grin playing at the corners of his lips as he regarded 621 with amusement.

"What? Did I amaze you that much?" he teased, his previous countenance seemingly reverting back to him in the blink of an eye.

621 narrowed his eyes, studying the shopkeeper's face for any sign of deception. It was hard to believe that the man before him, who had just performed an excruciating ordeal, could return to his former demeanor so effortlessly.

But as he looked into the shopkeeper's eyes, he saw nothing but mischief and amusement staring back at him. It was as if the gravity of their previous interaction had been lifted, replaced by a sense of lightheartedness.

"Was all that necessary?" 621 questioned, his voice tinged with a hint of reproach as he regarded the shopkeeper with a mixture of incredulity and suppressed annoyance.

However, the shopkeeper simply waved a dismissive hand, a look of indifference crossing his features.

"Oh, take a hike, why don't you?" he retorted sarcastically. "Sure, I choked you a little and cut out your ribs, but you're all fine and dandy now, aren’t you?"

621 bristled at the shopkeeper's flippant response, his frustration internally mounting at the lack of remorse or explanation for the ordeal he had just endured. But as he glanced down at his now-healed chest, the evidence of the shopkeeper's magic shimmering faintly beneath his skin, he realized that there was little use in dwelling on the past.

With a resigned mental sigh, 621 pushed aside his lingering irritation, choosing instead to focus on the future. Whatever his reservations about the shopkeeper's methods, he couldn't deny the power and knowledge that the enigmatic figure potentially possessed.

“Besides, there’s more tests to be had, cunt! That was an appetizer at best”, he mocked indifferently.

“Don’t be mistaken, you fucker, I’m not teaching you jack shit until I’m satisfied with the results.”