[WP] A Dark psychological thriller similar to, but not exactly like, Hannibal (the tv show or the movies).

...

From deep within the recesses of the dark and twisted soil, the figure waited. Dark steel held little visible form in the dim light of the single orb of glass meant to illuminated the dark stone of the dungeon, but beneath the helm of rust, two eyes set themselves to their own strange glow.

"Are you watching?" From within that strange metal and blackened armor, a gravelly voice hissed from unseen lungs. A slow wheeze of air, taken in not by necessity, but instead convenience. "Does this please you, Gillian?"

"I am not the Dark Lord." Came the reply, as the robed figure stepped from beyond the veil, hood of black cloth outlined by the faint radiance of pale stone overhead. "He is elsewhere, Rodrick."

"Ah... You, it is you..." Chains shifted, slowly drawing taunt as the blacked steel turned, creaking of metal under strain grinding through the ambiance of the stone cell. "I would not have thought you'd come to this place... Then again, I would not have thought you'd serve him either." The voice paused, considering. "You should not have come here, Immortal."

"My choices are not yours to judge, Fallen Hero of the Black Sword." Pale hands lifted up and back to drop the hooded cloth, handsome face of not yet middle-age leveling a fierce stare at the grand suit of ancient armor before it. With another motion, the light above flickered to greater intensity, until clear shadows might define every feature and crevice of the small room. "You betrayed him, after hundreds of years. I've come to know why."

"You've come to know... why?" The Suit of armor seemed to wheeze the question, grim laughter soon quaking beneath a breastplate. Flakes of rust shook with each motion, chains creaking and grinding under the pressure which built upon the limbs they held. "That is a strange question to come from you, Immortal. Of all those I've met, you are the last I'd expect to ask it."

"This is no idle curiosity, Rodrick. I am in no mind for games, only answers."

"There is no need." The armor replied, amusement settled on the words. "There is no need for answers, not when you already know."

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"I have lived and died to kill that man since before your great failure, Rodrick. Since before your time, before he took you as his own slave- for longer than you can possibly imagine." The man approached, eyes staring in through the helm's gap to lock with the source that rested there. "Yet in the last few centuries it was often your sword that cut me down. A hero turned undead slave, defending his master."

"Yes..." From beneath the armor, the hiss of steel and lungs molded together with a faint glimmer of undefined emotion. "And you never died a coward, Immortal. That was something I respected, however short our meetings were."

"Then you will admit, you have been his shield for centuries. You have committed unspeakable crimes, if only on his whim."

"I will not deny these accusations."

"Yet now, after years, lifetimes, centuries- after all this time you've betrayed your Master?" The man's eyes widened in anger, light above them flickering: barely containing the outward and seething magics that stormed with rage. "I will ask again Rodrick, what is the reason?"

His only response was a dry chuckle. A deep sound that trembled as it shook, as if a man who had forgotten was it was- surprised by his own voice.

"Tell me!" The man shouted, glow of magics pulsing in the light overhead. "Tell me why Rodrick!"

"Why? But you already know the reason, Immortal." The armor's laughter came again, no longer held at bay by chains of iron, or plates of steel. The voice boomed out with a sickening mockery of joy. "I told you before, Immortal of this world: soul of many lives, bearer of many faces, name of Congrad- You already have the answer." The laughter continued as the massive armor reared backward, motion throwing back the helm to reveal what horror lay beneath. Those two red orbs of hatred that stared down at the man before it, swathed in darkness and shadow as the movement ceased. "Think immortal. Think of what you want most, as the years stretch by and your mind and soul trail behind you like heat of a flame. Why would I betray the Dark Lord?" As the shadowed hatred and emptiness of the armor stared down at the man before it, the chains stretched- all slack lost under the tremendous force that pulled them. "Think immortal, and leave this place."

"I will not leave until you say it aloud." Standing tall, unafraid by the display of power before him, the demand came once more. "Tell me why?"

"Truly... you must ask this of me?" The armor creaked, chains pulling the frame back towards the shadows of the room under the heavy weights and shackles. "Even in my state, you make such demands... The Dark Lord approaches now, distant as he is. You must leave this place."

"Not until-" The man's reply cut short as the sound of footsteps in the darkness beyond the room made soft echoes through the halls. Turning his head, the man looked back to the blackened suit of armor with unease before slowly stepping back towards the shadows, magics brought up and about among delicate and practiced methods. As he glanced back among the swirling shadows and mana, the voice from the armor reached out for his attention one last time.

"We are both trapped by different means, but also the same. I can see it with each meeting, more clearly now than any time before." The armor rumbled, laughter bubbling up into maddened tones, heaving and reverberating within the steel and plate. "Death can not take either of us, until he allows it."