Drip.
Drip.
A sound reminiscent of the drizzle of rain. Droplets fell to the ground in a slow, lulling pace. It was otherwise quiet, neither breath nor twitch in the empty room.
Splotches of crimson tainted the pure white floor, the infection increasing by the second. Damned fates!
He lied flat on the cold, hard floor, reddened eyes looking to the empty ceiling. Bruises and wounds covered his body, and blood seeped into his clothes.
Right beside him, just out of arms reach, was an ebony knife, worn from use.
Drip.
Drip.
Bathed in his own blood, he writhed in pain, a sensation like acid hitting a wound. His breath was faint, almost incoherent, and his existence slowly faded as each second passed. It was a miracle that he could still think, especially after all of that.
Graugh!
At the sound of that groan, his body shrunk, and his back stiffened. It wasn’t like this at first, but given enough time, even the most menial threats began looking scary.
Featureless, black blobs of vaguely humanoid shapes, with nothing to guide their wandering. They were like ghouls, walking aimlessly until they found their next prey. While they weren’t particularly intelligent, there was one reason to why these bastards were so dangerous. Numbers.
These black creatures covered the entire room. Them, as he had come to call the creatures. It was only him and them here, after all. He had no desire to get up again, enough was enough. Immortality gave him the benefit of not having to care.
They let out a large groan as they slowly inched closer to him, forming a horde that left no means for escape. He felt their cold, rough skin pass by his leg and shuddered, and his body began to react. A single creature split from its horde, noticing the existence of his blood.
As it walked forward, nearing him more and more, the creature raised its arm, preparing to stab it into his heart and kill him.
He did not move, staring at the unruly claw aiming for his chest. Not even one of his muscles twitched as the claw approached, getting uncomfortably close to him.
Boof!
The creature’s claw dug deep into his chest, crushing his heart. His senses raised to their peaks, and the pain reached into every crevice of his body. It was painful, sure, but nothing close to what he’s felt before. He continued to be still as blood poured out of his chest.
It was certainly interesting to watch it stream out of his dead heart, something in-between a river, and a torrent.
A perk of being immortal? Well, at this point, it was.
Then, his breath halted, that cool sensation of air no longer there. There was, quite literally, not a single breath of life left of him. He wanted to close his eyes, waiting for all of this to be over already. This same cycle, that repeated, over and over again.
The creature reached down, prepared to consume his body, blood scooped inside of its hand.
It should have all been over right there, but then, the slightest pang of pain hit him. It was close to a paper cut, or the lightest poke in the world, slightly pricked by a needle, though even that was enough. His eyes burst open, and his fingers began to move, clasping and unclasping in quick succession.
-
He slowly stood up, not bothering to use his arms. It was almost robotic in a sense, all his movements stiff like it was programmed.
Then he opened his eyes. His pupils were cold, their original emerald lustre gone, now blank and unfeeling. Those lifeless eyes looked like one that belonged to a doll or puppet. There were no longer any thoughts left in his mind, and his vision turned red.
Beady, glassy, unfeeling, and cruel. He raised his palms and an intense, eerie, almost suffocating aura formed around him.
CRASH!
One of the creatures lunged at him, launching him into the ground. This time, though, he almost immediately stood up, his eyes still open. More blood flowed out of his body, this time from his chest.
Then he bit down, his teeth digging into the creature’s arm. Blood spewed out of the creature’s body, the crimson liquid reaching into the ground. Like someone who hadn’t drunk in years, he greedily choked down the creature’s blood. His body began to heal, his flesh and bones mending and his skin returning to its previous state.
In a few moments, he looked good as new, his pale face returning to its full liveliness. He was now close to full condition. The only part of him that didn’t recover were the clothes he wore, still drenched in blood and cuts.
His eyes turned bloodshot, albeit temporarily, and he spit out the remains of the creature’s arm. Vicious, killer eyes stared down the creature, and for the first time in its whole existence, it felt fear. In a moment, his eyes calmed down and turned dull once more.
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The horde watched as he did this, unable to make a single move. Even for unintelligent creatures, they knew they couldn’t risk anything, thus they were frozen in place, like time itself had stopped. Not minding them, he walked up to the creature nearest to him and reached out his arm.
His hand grasped the creature by the neck, lifting it up into the air. With one movement, he crushed the creature’s neck, the sound of its bones cracking resounding throughout the room. Blood falling onto his arm, the creature’s head fell off its body and tumbled onto the floor.
“GROUAH!” He let out a bestial roar. His crazed eyes made him look like a feral animal, unruly and uncontrollable. The handle of the knife he held snapped under the weight of his grip, the splinters digging into his palm.
His hand firmly gripped the knife, as the blood from his palm seeped into its blade. A thin red film formed around it, forming a new handle for him to grab on to. As his body twisted, he moved his body down and held the knife in a backhand grip. Without sound, he launched off the ground, and bodies fell.
The horde didn’t have the time to react to its comrade’s death as their brains attempted to analyse what just happened. He then walked to the creature nearest to him and cut off its neck.
Grouah-.
Some of the creatures began to scatter, running away from the threat in front of them. The creatures that did not, charged toward him, running straight into a lion’s maw.
He weaved through the horde, cutting through their necks with ease. The creatures fell to the ground, and the horde was slowly starting to thin out. He easily tore through dozens of the creatures in a few moments, blood flying through the air.
He suddenly stopped moving and stood in the centre of the horde. There was an imaginary circle in-between him and the creatures, neither party attacking. Then, his eyes turned frigid, and he raised his knife.
Voom.
Krckck.
An invisible cut. Bodies fell to ground, tens of the creatures falling at a time. He simply stood there and watched as the creatures suffered, his mind blank. It was then when his vision cut out, and he fell to the ground.
-
He woke up with a throbbing headache. He picked himself up, off the ground and took in the surrounding view. Around him were the fallen corpses of the horde, and many more coming toward him.
His whole mouth was filled with the metallic taste of blood, filling him with the uncontrollable urge to throw up.
It happened again. He thought as raised his palms in the air. There was little use in doing anything about it now. The fight had already started, and as per his creed, he would finish it.
A magic circle appeared in the space below him, purplish and angry. After a few short flickers, dozens of spheres appeared around him. The spheres were filled with sparks of lightning, ready to go off at any time. He then walked forward, and the spheres moved with him. With a single flick of his fingers, the spheres of lightning threw themselves forward, exploding on impact.
Boom!
It was a bloodbath, the creature’s heads flung around the platform, and their bodies exploding into bloody bits. The creatures never stood a chance against him, as their numbers slowly thinned. He continued to cast his spells, more and more lightning appearing.
This was rather barbaric of him, but he had no desire to spend his energy on this.
Plop. With a resounding thud on the ground, the last of the creatures fell to the ground, all of them extinguished at last. I’m done. Finally, freedom.
He collapsed on the ground and stretched his arms. Another round was complete, and another would soon begin. This was just how it worked here, a never-ending cycle of death and rebirth.
“Not quite.” A voice spoke.
He stood up and looked around him, his guard raised. It had been so long since he had heard another voice here. If there was someone else here, he wanted to know. “Who are you!?” He called out.
“Easy there.” The voice replied, as another creature popped from out of nowhere. Unlike the previous creatures, hunched backs, and mangy bodies, this one looked closest to a human. Prim and proper while still being a disfigured blob.
As soon as he laid his eyes on the creature, he charged forward, his knife aimed at the creature’s head.
Bam!
As he neared, the creature sent a punch straight into his stomach, sending him writhing to the ground, as he groaned in pain.
“You’re another one of them.” He growled at the creature.
“Oh, is that what you call these ones?” It spoke, grabbing onto one of the fallen heads of the creatures. “You’re not wrong, but not quite right either.”
Just as he did, the creature in front of him crushed the head in its palms. Slowly, right before his eyes, the creature began to morph. Humanlike body and face, a formal black and white suit, with gloves. A bowtie hung from its neck, complementing its short hair and childish facial features.
“Greetings guest. My name is Dial.” Dial bowed. “Congratulations on passing the trial.”
“What might your name be?” It asked with a tilt of its head.
“Why should I tell you?” He replied cautiously. A transforming creature. This was the first time he’d encountered anything like this since he was trapped here, though it was just as likely that he forgot.
A name. What even is my name?
“Oh, you don’t remember.” Dial chuckled. “How interesting.”
At Dial’s words, he tried his best not to let his emotions show on his face. Though he wasn’t successful, as his eyes widened slightly. How does it know?
“Please follow me then.” Dial coolly spoke. It turned around and began to walk forward.
Take him where? There was nothing around them except for empty space. “Where are you going to take me?” He asked.
“You said it yourself.” Dial turned its head and replied. “There was something you want. Freedom, was it?”
Gulp.
“Now, pick up your pace. We’re running quite a bit late.” Dial spoke with great vigour. As it walked forward, a pathway formed a rift in the middle of the empty room. “Are you coming or not?”
He hurried forward, going behind Dial and walking into the rift. The surrounding landscapes shifted, revealing a large city. It wasn’t empty like before, instead filled with large buildings and people. The world passed by him and Dial, people walking by like they weren’t even there.
Dial continued to walk, leading him into various doors and entrances, sounds and sight he’d never seen before, until finally.
A muddy door with a chrome handle. Behind the door was a small room filled with stacks upon stacks of paper. There on the side was a small wooden desk and stool, a quill hanging from its end.
“Welcome to your freedom, guest.” Dial spoke.
“Of course, something as valuable as that isn’t free.” Dial continued. “So please, sit down.”
“Sign here, and we’ll take care of you.” Dial spoke. He stared at the piece of paper in front of him, the large line on the bottom there for him to sign. Freedom by contract. How badly did he want to give up everything he had for a taste?
No, that was wrong. That would be assuming he had anything left of him to begin with. Without identify nor purpose, the only thing he wondered was what would happen if he didn’t sign the contract. He looked up and stared Dial in the eyes.
“For the freedom you desire. Would you sign a contract with the devil?”