To Domison, the world seemed somehow larger and more muted. He could feel a familiarity with his surroundings, but nothing seemed tangible, more akin to a spectral construct than the real world. The cold bite of the shackles at his thin, childlike ankles and wrists was distant. The rough wood flooring under the soles of his feet was a far-away sensation. Yet even though he felt a detachment from the physical surrounding him, his heart still began to beat faster. He did not want to relive this nightmare again.
“And now, for our next item. This item was graciously granted to the Twilight Auction by one of our sponsors.”
Domison didn’t recognize the voice, or know exactly where the speaker was, but it didn’t matter. He could feel the emotions of his childhood self start to seep into his own. The desolation of spirit he had felt standing upon this stage was suffocating. He hadn’t felt like a human anymore, but a mere object.
A large hand shoved him from the back when he hesitated, sending him stumbling out onto a dark stage. The chains binding his feet caught tight and sent him crashing into the rough wooden stage. The tumble caused a large splinter of wood to drive deeply into the flesh of his thin, birdlike forearm. He bit down hard on his lip as he stood, bleary-eyed, to chase away the pain.
The small framed boy limped forward another few steps to a spot marked in the middle of the stage. As soon as he was in place, a blinding floodlight crashed over him, and he was standing beneath a spotlight. The luminance drew the young boy in harsh lines and every scab, bruise, and open wound was in sharp retort on his pallid skin. The only clothing on his body was a strip of fabric wrapped around his waist, barely granting him any dignity. A steady drip of blood began to leak from around the wood splinter on his hand and started to thump against the wood at his feet in a steady rhythm.
“ And worry not my dear friends, it has subsequently gone through a thorough re-education program. As you can see, it can handle punishment quite well. I would go so far as to say it takes physical directives in stride.”
A muted laughter spread through the audience. While the boy could not see them, he could feel their eyes bore into every inch of his exposed flesh. He could sense the contempt that rested within the shadowy figures out in the sea of black in front of him. He wasn’t a human anymore. He was nothing but a thing. He was an object to be used, broken, and thrown away.
The man hiding within the boy couldn’t take these feelings anymore, with an exercise of will he wrenched control away. The man whipped his younger body one hundred and eighty degrees and rushed into the darkness of the stage behind him. Darkness swallowed him, the air began to get colder, and before Domison knew it frost was pluming from between his lips.
Suddenly he could smell the scent of soil and plant life in the air and after two more steps, he ran directly into a skeletal tree. Standing and rubbing the sore spot on his forehead, Domison spun around in a panic. He was no longer in the Twilight Auction house, but instead seemed to be in a forest on a moonless night.
As Domison wandered through the pitch-black forest, the chill in the air sent shivers down his spine. The trees towered above him, their branches reaching out like skeletal fingers, blocking out any light from the moon and stars. He couldn't see more than a few inches in front of him, and the only sound was the crunching of his naked feet on the forest floor.
Suddenly, he felt a presence behind him, and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. His heart began to race, and his instincts told him to run. He picked up the pace, sprinting through the dark and twisting trees as fast as he could.
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But as he ran, he could hear the thing chasing him getting closer. The sound of growling filled the air, and he could feel its hot breath on the back of his neck. Panic set in as he realized he was being hunted by something unknown.
Finally, his legs gave out and he collapsed on the ground, gasping for breath. As he looked up, he could see two glowing red orbs hovering in the darkness, high above the ground. The growling grew louder, and a massive, shadowy figure stepped into view.
It was a wolf, but it was unlike any wolf Domison had ever seen before. Its legs were unnaturally long and distended, and its snarl was twisted and almost resembled a smile. Its fangs were stained crimson, and its eyes burned with a red-hot intensity.
As the wolf stepped closer, Domison knew he was in grave danger. He tried to crawl away, but his limbs were frozen with fear. The wolf bared its teeth and let out a bone-chilling howl, sending shivers of primordial terror down his spine.
Suddenly, Domison woke up, sucking a breath between his teeth. He couldn't seem to move at all, only his eyes free of the paralysis wracking his body. His pounding heartbeat completely drowned out all other noise and his gaze searched every exposed corner of the room he occupied. He didn’t know where he was, could he be in his home? He could feel the cold touch of metal at his neck, and this only amplified his anxiety. Could he still be in the auction house?
After several minutes his breathing steadied, and control returned to his limbs. When his heartbeat began to slow, he realized he didn’t recognize his surroundings at all. The room he occupied was barren and quite small. The only piece of furniture in the small space was the cot that the man currently occupied. Several more minutes passed in silence and Domison took the time to take stock of his condition.
First, he dove into his internal vision, observing his channels and the state of his core. His channels were practically dry, only a trickle of energy spreading through them. His core was a similar story, feeling like an empty well. The pain in his left arm hit him then, ripping through destroyed flesh like a raging wildfire. He sucked in air through his teeth as he shifted his body and looked at the damaged limb.
The skin of his arm was charred and distorted, flaking away to reveal a network of red tendrils working their way up to his neck. Between the burns working their way across the upper left half of his body and the almost complete lack of mana, Domison was feeling extremely dry. He closed his eyes again and focused on drawing mana in. The thimble of energy within his core stirred for only a second before terrible nausea wracked the man’s body, and he tried to sit up in vomit on the floor.
As soon as he had risen a foot from the cot beneath him, the chain connected to the metal collar at his neck caught and in his fragile state, it sent him crashing back down into the bed with a grunt. Bloody vomit spewed from between his lips and cascaded onto his feeble form. A wet cough racked Domison’s body as his inner core convulsed, but nevertheless, he felt something shift slightly.
Before the man was able to bring his fit of sickness under control and investigate the feeling further, the door at the far end of the room slammed open and a young man with dirty blonde hair walked in. After looking Domison over for a moment in silence the man turned and shouted out the doorway, “Knox! Skinny burn victim is awake.” His voice was higher pitched and nasally, hitting just the right frequency that, for a moment, Domison thought he felt his nausea rise again.
“Thanks for the heads up, Hench.” A metallic arm reached across the door frame and clapped onto the young man’s shoulder. A moment later a lumbering form stepped into the room. The man, who Domison assumed to be Knox, was a bear of a man. He would have easily towered over Domison, who considered himself a tall man, but that was nothing compared to his bulk. He could tell in an instant that the burly man had to get his cybernetic prosthetics custom-fabricated to match his size.
“I think they’ll be happy enough with a combat classer,” Knox said after looking Domison over for a moment, “It’s a good thing he didn’t die. Let’s get the fuck out of this Kwik mart and get back to Twilight.”
At those words, Domison clenched his jaw and a spark of rage began to flicker within his soul. Unbeknownst to anyone in the room, Domison included, the shallow puddle of mana in his core began to boil.