What and who? I had no idea what he was talking about, but the assumption was that it had something to do with me coming back to life. However, this needed to be confirmed. “I’m sorry but, I don’t quite understand what you’re asking.”
“Not very religious? Curious then why she would give you such a gift.” He adopted a pensive look for a second before returning his gaze to me. “The eternal goddess is considered by most to be an enigma at best, a fantasy at worst, but I can assure you that she is very real, perhaps even more so than the other gods. She is the one who exists in the boundary between life and death, neither yet both. It is said that she has existed since the beginning of time and watches over the cycle of death and rebirth.”
“Accounts of her action on the mortal plane are few and far between. Most can’t even be verified and are relegated to her legends. However, there is one event that was recorded and remains to this very day, the founding of this empire. Over nine hundred years ago we were a scattered people, relegated to hiding in the forests in fear of the great wyrms that roamed the land. The goddess reached out and bestowed her gifts upon my ancestor. With the power she gave, he united all Valthrain under a single banner and drove the beasts into extinction.”
“After the crusade was done, he founded this very city, and with it, the glorious empire that we know today. She has been silent since that fateful day, until now. For whatever reason she has given you her blessing, and I would like to know what you did to acquire it.” He got up from his seat and started to walk towards me. “Like my ancestors before me, I would use her gifts to put those savages that would threaten my people in their place and ensure the prosperity of my kingdom for generations to come.”
He was standing right in front of me now, a look of fiery intensity in his eyes that felt dangerous. “So, tell me, how did you do it? What sacrifices did you make, what prayers or promises did you offer in exchange?”
The feeling of intimidation as he loomed over me was overwhelming. That look of expectation and longing... No, longing was too weak of a word, it was a lust for whatever it was that I had. He was insatiable and ravenous like a half-starved beast looking at its next meal. “I... uhm... I don’t...”
“Do not fret, you will be appropriately rewarded for this discovery. I will make you richer than any of those other upstart nobles who do nothing but sit and get fat while I strive for greatness on this lonely path, a path that I fear will soon be too treacherous for my body to handle. I can feel the years catching up to me, I may not look it, but I am growing old. It is like a slow, insidious poison that robs you of the ability to realize your goals. I cannot entrust this to a lesser, for even one of my own blood would not be up to the task. No woman has ever impressed upon me the same passions that I hold, the same drive that fuels me, thus my children would always be doomed to be just that, lesser. So, I must endure, endure until I can see my goals realized, the seeds I planted bear fruit. Anything short of this would see all my work undone by the weak who would usurp me.”
There was almost disdain in his voice as he said that, and I began to realize the grievous error in my original plan. I was concerned about the other noble's schemes and plots while ignoring the looming mountain that they all existed under. This man’s zeal and ambition cast long dark shadows that he hid behind a mask of charisma, a mask that finally slipped as he poured out his desires before me.
This whole situation just went from bad to worse as it was almost certain that this man would probably not like to hear that I had no answer to his question. My knowledge was probably the most basic understanding of what was going on with me, he probably knew more than me already. There was nothing for me to give him as I had nothing to give in the first place. My mind was racing, trying to come up with something, anything that would appease him, but everything that came up would be a lie that would only delay my doom.
After admitting to not knowing how this all came about, I would probably be tossed out onto the streets, penniless and alone in a strange world. It wouldn’t be all that surprising if he leveraged his power to make sure I stayed that way. Out of all the options, telling the truth would probably be the least damaging in the long run.
I swallowed the lump of pure anxiety that had formed in my throat before beginning the explanation. “Sire, I... I’m afraid that I do not know how this happened to me.”
His face dropped and the disappointment, and skepticism, that was on it was palpable. “You did nothing? Made no outcry or plea to the gods for aid in a desperate time, made no wish for a better life, sacrificed nothing to obtain what you now hold?!” His voice rose over the course of his inquiry, as did my fear. He wasn’t quite yelling, but his frustration was clearly visible.
“I’m sorry, I just... I was living a normal life that I was happy with, then I was attacked by a giant silver snake and now I’m here just wondering what’s going on.” Even though it was finally off my chest, the admittance didn’t make me feel any lighter. Maybe it was because the weight of Alathos’ stare was enough to crush boulders as he scanned me with his gaze.
Eventually, he let out a long sigh and closed his eyes. His expression was unreadable, but beneath that surface there was probably a tumultuous sea of emotions. He walked back over to the other side of the table and sat down once again. I could feel my situation start to slip further into the red and endeavored to bring it back.
“I do apologize that I cannot be of any help sire, I just don’t...” He raised a hand at me which silenced my attempt to smooth things over.
The hand was turned away from me and made a dismissing wave at Volks who was standing off to the side. “Volks, please fetch the tea, I am in need of some right now.” Volks gave a bow and went off to do just that. Alathos turned his gaze back towards me. “If you truly do not know anything, then that is unfortunate. However, there may yet be something that can be learned with you here now.”
So, he’s not planning to toss me out like yesterday’s garbage? That was at least a silver lining in this otherwise stormy cloud. Perhaps studying what happened to me could show me something about how I came here, and maybe how to get back. It wasn’t a complete loss, but the royal treatment would probably be ending at least.
Volks came out with a silver serving tray and daintily plucked a smaller plate with a teacup on it, presenting it to the king. After that, Volks came over to my side and gave me a cup of tea as well. “Oh, uhm, thank you.” Volks gave a slight dip of the head before retreating into the kitchen again.
I picked up the cup of tea and inhaled its aroma. It smelled very herby with a hint of citrus to it, not unappealing in the least. Alathos had already started drinking so I took an experimental sip of as well. The flavor was very soothing, which was a blessing considering how shot my nerves were at the moment. Another sip let the warm feeling soak into my body. It made me feel very relaxed, and my body loosened up quite significantly.
After the third sip, I noticed that Alathos had his impassive gaze fixed on me. It was quite disconcerting and made me feel sick. Wait, it’s not the look. My hand was shaking despite my best efforts to still it. I couldn’t apply any force with the limb or maintain my grip on the cup. Eventually, all control of my arm was lost, and the cup dropped to the floor with a clatter as what was left of the liquid splattered all over the place.
True panic exploded inside of me. I pushed out of the chair but almost immediately collapsed as the strength left my legs causing me to hit the ground hard. Every frantic command that was sent to my body was ignored and all that it accomplished was a twitch of the limb was to be moved. I had all the muscle control of a newborn baby. My eyes were wide as I laid on the ground spasming like some sort of pathetic version of a seizure. My vision started to fade as the darkness closed in from all sides. There was the sound of the door opening and footsteps moving about the room, but everything went dark, and my consciousness faded away.
There was no way to know how long I was out for, but when sensation finally returned to me, it was nothing but cold. My eyesight was blurry and unfocused for a minute before the fog cleared, allowing me to see again. An attempt was made to sit up from my reclined position but was immediately halted by my wrists being pinned down. Alarmed at my situation, the last of the grogginess vanished revealing both my hands and feet being secured in metal clamps, and to top it all off, I was naked.
Panic once again started to seep into my very bones as adrenaline flooded my system. I writhed and pushed against the restraints in a desperate attempt to break free, but there was no way to overcome the metal. Shit, shit, shit, shit! My struggling got me nowhere and my panic wasn’t doing me any favors. My eyes darted around the room to try and find anything that could help me get out of this.
Everything was dirty or grimy stone in here, there were no windows to let light in and the only source of illumination was some classic oil lanterns. There was a bookshelf near a corner of the room with a normal wood table next to it. The contents of the table were bizarre and disturbing. There were vials and jars that held unknown liquids, tools and blades scattered about, some looking like they had dried blood on them. What looked like preserved body parts floated in some of the jars which only fanned the flames of my panic attack further. This whole place just screamed serial killer.
The only exit that could be seen was up a flight of stairs that led to a reinforced wooden door. Freedom so close and yet out of reach. My futile struggles continued against the restraints until my wrists and ankles were raw and throbbing with pain. I collapsed against the table exhausted. There was no way to escape, at least not by myself. That was when I heard the jingling of keys and the door started to creak open.
A person in dark robes descended the stairs followed by Alathos. They reached the bottom of the room and noticed that I was staring at them. “So, you’re finally awake.” Alathos said in a voice as cold as the grave.
“Please, what did I do wrong!? I’m sorry! If you just tell me, I’ll correct it! I promise!” I didn’t care how pathetic I looked or sounded, I just didn’t want to be strapped to this table anymore and was willing to do anything to get out.
Alathos stalked around me with a look lacking all empathy. “The problem, is that you are lying to me.”
“What? I... I haven’t lied to...”
“Stop!” His voice was sharp and full of rage. “You are lying to me! You expect me to believe that she gave you her blessing, a filthy peasant like you rolling around in the mud whilst I dedicated my entire life to her cause! I have worked to cleanse this world of the filth that is those savage monsters just like my ancestors did when she gave her gifts to them, and yet it is you she delivers her gifts to. I deserve it, not you, not anybody else! I gave you a chance to hand over those secrets willingly in exchange for money and power you couldn’t dream of, and you spat in my face with those lies. So now, we’ll do this the unpleasant way.”
He’s insane, he’s fucking insane! “I swear to you, I don’t know how this happened to me! I told you the truth, please, you have to believe me!”
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“Maybe you are, maybe you aren’t, but it matters not. Even if you are telling me the truth that just means you can’t give me what I want, so instead, I’ll see if it can’t be taken and given to someone more deserving.” With a look of finality, he turned away and started back up the stairs.
“W... wait, please, I didn’t want any of this! I don’t know what’s going on! I’ll help you, I’ll do anything, I just want to go home!” My pleas fell on deaf pointed ears as the door opened and closed with the same dread weight of a guillotine dropping. My heart felt like it sunk into my stomach and threatened to burn a hole in my gut.
“Well then...” Came a voice from the side of the room. I snapped my attention to the dark robed individual who was left in the room with me. He looked aged with many wrinkles across his features and a burn scar on the side of his head. “It’s not too often I get to work with live subjects, particularly ones that I have been told there would be no qualms about any methods I choose to use.” The fear I felt at those insinuations was boundless.
“Now, torture is not a normal part of my vocation, though I have studied its application. Perhaps this will be a good time to practice some new methods that the true professionals could use.”
“No, please, I'm telling the truth! I swear! I swear I am! I’ll cooperate, I’ll do whatever I can to give this away, just, please!”
A dark chuckle came from the man that sunk my hopes deeper than even an endless pit could go. “Your cooperation doesn’t matter. You see, it’s my job to pull things apart to figure out how they work. I take pride in my job and the results they bring, so to be negligent in my work would be asking me to throw away my pride.” A smile that could curdle milk smeared itself across his features. “You are simply just a lively corpse to me.”
Despair and adrenaline are a potent combination. My struggling against the restraints renewed with increased vigor that only accomplished making my wrists bleed. The dark robed man simply walked over to his table and picked out a few things from its surface. He came back with a couple of knives and my blood turned to ice.
“Let’s see how you work, shall we.” He brought the knife down to my chest between my pectorals and the cold metal caused all my muscles to contract involuntarily.
“NO! STOP! STOP! AHHHHHH!” He pressed the blade into my flesh and dragged it down my body, leaving a flowing river of blood in its wake. I writhed and screamed in pain as it felt like it was both burning and freezing at the same time. He removed the blade after he got down to about my belly button and I could do nothing but shiver and babble incoherently as the blood flowed from my body.
“That should be enough for a first test. Now, time for you to die.”
The horror that was on my face at that moment could have disturbed the grim reaper himself. In a single quick and precise movement that left no time to even react, he pulled the knife up over my head and the last thing I saw was the bloodstained metal rapidly descending towards my eye before my world was cast into numbing darkness.
Again.
When I woke, it was with a scream. There was no longer a large ravine in my body though the blood from the wound hadn’t disappeared and was still pooled on my chest. “Fascinating.” My gaze once again fell on the psychopath I was trapped with. “I was told what to expect, but to see such a complete recovery done so quickly... I must record this.” He went back to his book and started writing in it with an ink quill.
This gave me a chance to breathe and find my voice again. “What the fuck is wrong with you?!”
“Why, nothing at all.” He said with that same disgusting smile. “I am simply a pioneer in my field, seeking knowledge by any means. If only more could aspire to my same goals.”
“You’re fucking demented!”
He put down the quill having apparently finished his notes. “It is the burden of an educated mind to be called insane by the naive masses. My work will bring about a new understanding of our bodies, and therefore, a new understanding of life!” He grabbed a hand axe from the table and carried it menacingly towards me, which caused me to start struggling again. “By my hand I will reach for the future, by your blood is the path pathed behind me paved.”
He raised the axe and brought it down on the crook of my left arm. My scream of agony as he hacked away at my limb reverberated off the cold stone around me. It was three strikes before he finally severed it completely, leaving me with a bleeding stump of an arm that squirted blood with every panicked heartbeat. My upper body had more room to move now, but even if I was in a state of mind to realize that, I still wouldn’t have been able to escape.
He unhooked my severed arm and brought it over to his sick table to begin picking at the limb. It was impossible to describe how broken my mind was as my body descended into shock. The sight of what was left of my arm revolted me to the point of near sickness. My head began to feel like it was filled with helium, probably from blood loss. My vision faded slowly and a minute or two later I passed out.
Again.
Gasping for air, I woke, finding a newly grown arm back in its restraints. “It was interesting to see a limb grow back that quickly. The regeneration seems to work in layers with the skeleton forming first then all the nerves and flesh around it.” He was basically mumbling to himself as he evaluated me. “Hmm, subject took longer to awaken than the previous death. I should time them.” He went over to scribble in that damned book again.
From his position at the table, he called out to me again. “I guess I’m supposed to ask you if you feel like telling the truth now or some such trite.”
“I already told you sick fucks everything! There’s nothing to learn!”
“I beg to differ, there is plenty to learn, and you will be a most interesting subject.” He came back over to me with another knife, and I could do nothing but try and stare him to death. “Let’s test recovery of multiple wounds.”
He jabbed the knife into my side and my body jolted from the intrusion as I let out a cry. As soon as it was in, it was yanked out and then stabbed into my gut. The equivalent of a slow prison shanking was conducted as he absentmindedly punctured my body multiple times. I started crying and muttering for it to stop, occasionally letting out a gargled sound of pain. My wish would not be granted until I had a baker's dozen worth of stab wounds all bleeding from my body. With a final condemning stab, he sunk the blade into my heart.
Everything became heavy, and my body was straining, calling out for oxygen that was no longer coming. My consciousness faded away again as the knife was removed from my chest. The sweet numbness of the dark was only a temporary thing as the damned voice returned as it always did.
Again.
All the phantom pain was beginning to stack on top of one another and blur together. At this point I was in a pool of my own blood and most of my torso was painted red as well. “Subject recovers from multiple wounds simultaneously. Time from death to recovery approximately thirteen seconds.” His stupid muttering note taking was incessant. “Let's continue.” He said grabbing more instruments of torture.
This is hell, I'm in hell. It was an explanation that my mind used to cope with the situation, trying to bring some reason for the never-ending pain. For only in hell could you die multiple times in such excruciating manners.
Again, and again, and again.
My death came several more times as he cut up my body, vivisecting and dissecting me in a multitude of ways before stabbing me in a vital organ. My mind retreated into a haze to dull the pain, leaving me with only enough faculties to cry, squirm and howl as knives, saws and axes were used on my body with abandon.
There was no concept of time as it was lost in the gloom and agony that surrounded and penetrated me. It took me a full minute to realize that my torturer had taken his book and left the room. Several minutes after that realization I could feel warm tears streaming down my face as I broke down.
Wailing howls escaped me as I threw myself against the restraints while calling out in my head for help. I would take it from any source, God, demon, monster, anyone, so long as I didn’t have to be here suffering anymore. My body remained invariably attached to the table, despair my only companion. God is dead, demons don’t exist, and monsters surround me.
My days after that consisted of distilled suffering, extracted, and applied with a brutal hand. My torturer would occasionally ask that pointless question about telling the truth and no matter what I managed to mumble or slur out it would be ignored, and I would be killed.
He didn’t bother to even feed me or give me water most of the time unless it had something to do with a new experiment of his. Every death would result in me coming back in peak condition, no hunger or thirst, though my empty stomach would almost immediately start complaining again as nothing that was placed inside me would reset, which was another experiment of his.
Again.
That stupid word.
Again.
Shut up.
Again.
Fuck you.
Again.
FUCK YOU!
I cursed the world, everything, and everyone in it. I was alone and suffering for reasons I didn’t even understand. I’ve only ever tried to do something good with my life and this is what I got in return. There was no reward for the virtuous, no prize to be gained for doing the right thing. The universe is cold and uncaring, anyone who tries to be different is punished for it.
There were a few days of raging and screaming curses at my torturer. Even as he dissected me alive and removed my organs, I spat blood on him and called him a piece of shit between screams of agony before dying and starting again. I don’t know how many times I heard that damned word, and each time it felt like a little more of myself was slipping away.
Legs sawed off.
Again.
Burned alive.
Again.
Had every bone in my body broken.
Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again. Again.
Some days he would mix it up. Instead of killing me every couple of minutes he would keep me alive for the day while inflicting trauma upon my body. He would test various chemicals and substances that could not be identified to see the level of pain they would induce or the effect of some new material he came into possession of.
And then, after weeks, possibly more than a month, the passage of time was impossible to tell, it happened. After waking from having my ribcage and heart removed while it was still beating, I looked over expecting to see the sick fucker pulling apart my heart, but instead, saw my severed head sitting on the table.
It felt like my heart stopped and my eyes went wide as I stared at the half-lidded eyeballs of my face, familiar scar running up the side of it. It was too much, that sight, the implications of if I was still myself when undoubtedly a very separate brain was in that head sitting on the table. My mind shattered like a glass window, and then descended into a realm of true madness.
I was vaguely aware of making a strained croaking sound that was probably meant to be a scream as my gaze was locked on my head sitting on the table. This got the attention of my torturer who gave a disgusting smirk. “Yes, I was thinking I should study your brain to see if the cause of your regenerative abilities lied within. Initial observations would say no considering you grew another one from your body and not another body from your head. Still, it’s interesting research material.”
He got up and moved over to my side again. “I think that will be all for today.” I just made more croaking sounds and stared blankly at him. “Hmm, maybe you need another one to reset your brain properly.” He nonchalantly pulled out a knife from his robe, stabbed me in the heart, and then walked away cleaning the blade before leaving the room. My death was slow and insensate as my gaze remained focused on the head atop the table until I officially faded away.
Aga...
NO! No no no no no no no no no no! I can’t, I can’t do it anymore! Please, let me go! Let me die!
My incorporeal form curled into as small a ball as I could and sobbed, if that was even possible. After a moment of crying in the dark I felt something, it wasn’t me coming back to life, I was still in the all too familiar void. It felt like someone was embracing me from behind. There was a feeling of warmth, the gentle yet firm hug pressing me against them. It was the first positive contact I had in what seemed like an eternity.
It felt so nice, I never wanted to leave it. My sobbing slowly died down as my mind calmed with the touch. The mental stress and exhaustion were released from my very bones and seeped out into the nothingness. The presence drew in close, coming up right beside my head. And then, like poisoned honey, it spoke.
Again.
I was cold, alone, back in the dimly lit room. That single bit of kindness ripped away from me as I was thrust back into my perpetual suffering. The tears flowed unbidden down my face. Whatever was left of my sanity was gone. For all intent and purpose, I was comatose while remaining just barely aware of my surroundings. All sensation was numb as my body waited like a vegetable to be cut apart, to die, again.