"...It makes no difference to me. I always take what I want..."
His mere presence seems to fill the room with a suffocating energy I have never felt before.
His voice filters through his mask as he stalks around me, and the result is an inhuman staticky rumble, deep and resonating.
White noise.
When he speaks, it's in a low calculated drawl, seemingly only sparing as many words as absolutely necessary for each sentence.
It almost feels as if his voice is some corporeal thing, stretching out from him and caressing my skin. He speaks to me and I want to recoil away from him as if every word is his very hand on my cheek.
And yet the only things directly touching me are the silver shackles tightened against my wrists and ankles, tightening me to the cold metal slab against my back that keeps me horizontal; in standing position before my captor, and the stale air of the cell I've been stuck in for...I can't seem to remember...
But I am constantly reminded of the cold; shivers wrack my body and I can feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. That voice assaults my ears once again and my eyes flick upwards to catch him returning to his familiar position standing before me.
"...though it would be in your best interest to cooperate." he finishes.
I stare at him but say nothing. Dressed in black robes and in a mask that covers any semblance of human facial characteristics. It makes me feel incredibly alone. As if there's no one in the room with me at all. Only a shadow.
In place of a response, I twist and struggle against my restraints. As if this time they might finally give and I'll realize the strength to break from them.
But of course- they don't. He catches my movement and reminds me for the hundredth time that-
"There is no point in resisting...there is no escape." he calmly reminds me of this fact. Sounding as sure, as I am in denial, of it's truth.
The light above me illuminates only a small circumference of my surroundings. My entire universe restricted by this bright light. Beyond it? Darkness...akin to that of the empty vacuum of space, but in this universe all the stars have been extinguished, all the planets and suns have died and all that is left is the infinite, suffocating darkness. And so, I am forced to cling to this small circle of light as if it is my only refuge.
Nothing else exists outside of this cell...outside the vacuum...my reality is nothing but these cold shackles, my own wavering breath...and that penetrating voice emanating from the dark knight currently standing before me.
Kylo Ren.
Master of the Knights of Ren, Commander of The First Order; an instrument of the dark side, a vessel for the force, and a quick death...if angered. Which, according to rumors, is quite easily done.
His hands are clasped behind his back. They clench as I look away from him insolently. A grimace on my face as I refuse to show any fear or heed any of his commands.
He growls as he lurches forward and grips my chin. My face is forcefully twisted back in his direction. An angry sneer on my face, and the sound of his leather gloves clenching around my jaw.
"You will give me what I want." he commands.
"Don't count on it." I snarl back.
I've heard the stories...I've even seen the feared, and equally ridiculed, saber itself once before. But I won't be intimidated, I won't be swayed, I refuse to break.
His grip lessened.
As if reading my mind he replies "Do you have any idea how many others before you have thought the exact same thing...?"
He waits for a reply but I give him none. I can't seem to avoid a checkmate, my words work against me. So at this moment the only solution I see is to simply not play.
For a few short moments nothing but the numbing sound of his breathing fills my senses.
The deep, deafening, pauses between irritatingly short sentences. A deep penetrating voice, locking me in a strange sense of limbo. White noise, the sound of a scrambled signal. The dull click in his mask just before a breath, before he opens his mouth and another word leaves lips I have never seen. His hand on my chin. It's strange, a sense of numbness washes over me. It isn't pleasant...I need something to hold on to. Listen to the patterns. Hold on to what you see. What you hear, white noise.
I say nothing as I continue to stare into his mask. Perhaps if I peer hard enough into the darkness where his eyes should be they will reveal themselves to me, ending this one sided death stare.
The voice came again. "...each one had that same look on their face. So stoic, and yet each one left this cell only a fraction of what they once were. In the end you'll beg for the chance to tell me what I want to hear. "
Damn it. I can't just sit here and listen to his speeches forever. A move must be made eventually, even if it means having him lunge at me again. Just a small one. Try not to reveal anything more...I wrench my chin from his loosened grip.
"You obviously think very highly of yourself." I snickered "your arrogance will be your downfall."
His hand returned to it's spot behind his back "Perhaps. But until then, I am in this room with you. And there's no denying that in comparison to myself you are nothing but a very small insect."
His hand slowly reached up to me. "And I hold your life in my hands." His palm hovered just before my eyes "Shall I remind you..?"
I stared at his leather clad hand, Inches away from my face making me squint to keep him in focus.
All at once a heavy weight rapidly spreads to cover my entire body, threatening to drag me down straight through the reflective floorboards. Without warning, It felt as if every part of my body was suddenly thrust into its own tailor-made hell.
My head felt like it was going to burst, my eyes clouded and I feared I might go blind, my extremities felt as if they were being held only centimeters above an open fire.
I wanted to close my eyes and let the dark energy dissect me completely. So desperately it injects itself into me, I could let the poison consume me. But my instincts won't allow it. I can't allow it. I fight back despite myself and with what little strength I have left I force him into my view again.
His voice is the only thing that cuts through the pain.
"Everyone is afraid of something. It's that fear that keeps them fighting a losing fight. The pain that keeps them going towards the inevitable end. You shouldn't deny it either. The pain, do not be afraid...I feel it too..." his words are slow, I...I don't understand them. And his sentences are drawn out, like he has all the time in the world. Though, in truth, he does. No one knows where I am, no one would even know where to start looking if they noticed me missing. Time isn't reaching me here. In vacuum, time, like fire, flows differently.
This struggle...I feel like I'm losing it. I'm straining just to keep him in my line of vision. I feel like he's tearing me apart. I can sense painful memories that were once wrapped up and buried nicely within my psyche are being torn up and strewn before me. Fears I thought I had successfully forgotten and repressed, are once again piercing my heart. He's ripping me open and laying me bare. The stories...they were true, what he told me...was true.
But even in the worst pain there can always be a kernel of resolve. Of hope, that can never be extinguished. Even in the deepest darkness. The most broken of souls. There can be light.
"Not...a word..." I scold myself. My skin reddens around my eyes and tints my forehead in strain. My fists involuntarily clench as if a surge of electricity is travelling through me, and there's nothing I can do as my nails dig into my palms so deep that the half moons begin to bleed. I just have to hold out...just a while longer...
He laughs softly. White noise. I groan.
"How refreshing it is to peer inside minds that hold fast to foolish wants and dreams. Susceptible to childish fear. Very reaffirming."
His hand falls away and I let out all the air I had held in, all at once the weight seems to dissipate and return to whatever dark corners of the room it seemed to have come from. I suck in as much of that stale air as I can, coughing and trying desperately to moisten my dry throat.
"I can teach you. I can teach you to let it all go...to forget. You can't command the force. But you can strengthen your resolve using the teachings of the dark side. Work with me, and I can release you from fear. From dreams that will never be."
Beads of sweat fall to the ground before me. My hair sticks to my face. I raise my head and my neck creaks, my muscles scream at me.
I manage a weak, wretched smile before I speak.
"You talk about weakness, and pain..fear, wants and wishes. You sound as if you remember these things better than you let on..." I say, I catch my breath. And in the frigid air the sweat on my face begins to dry, making the skin of my forehead feel entirely too tight.
He shifts only slightly, giving me no hint on what he might be thinking.
Assuming I am getting a reaction, I smirk and continue "...keep your wretched teachings. The emptiness inside you is not something I crave. There are some wants I couldn't live without, their pain more addicting and more tempting than anything you could offer. Denial of their fulfilment and that delicious sort of insanity that follows...perhaps remembering that is something 'I' should teach 'you'." I raise an eyebrow at him, a smile on my face that communicates a challenge more than anything else.
There is a fleeting pause, and I think Kylo Ren is going to kill me right there, before his head dips, and he turns on his heel to leave. I hear him sigh.
"I will rid you of that sense of humor eventually. There is no rush, I will break you and I will take my time doing so."
Once he reaches the door he turns his head to me one last time.
"Good bye." he says before his fingers dance on the lock and the door hisses closed behind him.
Damn it.
His farewell hangs in the air and is all I have keeping me company as the room seems to grow darker than it was before, my island of light shrinking around me, leaving me in pitch black. A void without stars, unreachable by time.
...
Kylo Ren leaves the cell and walks hurriedly down the hall. He doesn't move in any particular direction, no real destination in mind. Simply moving wherever there is space like he suddenly became of gaseous density, moving between open spaces without thinking. He mulls over the exchange between you and himself. That feeling was back once again, that infernal damning feeling of...doubt. That...tiny...maggot, in his heart. Wriggling again, awoken by the words spoken to him. Tearing holes in him he'd need to painstakingly close up again. He can't allow light to shine through. He can't.
He growls to himself, shaking his head to his own questions...what if you're right? What if he hasn't killed enough of himself yet. What if he does remember those wants...and not only that but but finds that he craves them. He stared into your eyes and though they couldn't reflect his own, in them he sensed an undeniable familiarity far more snaring than the damned maggot, still writhing in him, on It's own. It was something the likes of which he had not felt since he last sensed his father's presence. But this was something he couldn't discuss in council with anyone or anything. To be brought back to this place by a mere stranger...his master would ridicule him. And so he had immediately attempted to dismiss it.
Though as he picked through his thoughts now, he realizes that it was to no avail.
And then you hinted at something far more atavistic. He should have been repulsed but for some impossible reason his lips had parted, and instead he drank in your words. His first mistake was allowing you to continue speaking. He couldn't believe it. And yet, your words had rung out clearly in his head.
He was still young, he remembered those wants, those moments that left you twisting and turning all night long, sleepless. Even though he had only very few years to fill with such experiences he still...he understood what you meant. Such simple ideas, harmless feelings more addicting than anything.
Yes...a flutter of the heart and you're out of your mind all day. A single searing look and there's nothing else in the world you could possibly want more than the person wearing it. And what you had offered...his gut had twisted...what was this...a fear gripped his heart and, at the moment, he was seconds from grasping your neck with his own hands and commanding you to stop talking but- then he realized it. That deepening smile on your face. You were playing with him, testing him. Trying desperately to get some kind of reaction out of him. And somehow you had managed it, managed to stir that damned slumbering maggot. That- was not supposed to happen. That was not supposed to happen!
The maggot twisted and squirmed much more violently now. And his paced quickened. desperate now to reach his chambers for fear that he might destroy another section of this fucking metal tomb. He barely noticed the two Troopers shuffling out of his way in avoidance as he stomped along, eyeing him only momentarily as he passed by, shrugging it off- they were simply happy they hadn't barreled into him.
He found himself quickly shutting himself inside his quarters and removing his mask as fast as he could. The respirator, that served to purify his air and warp his voice, hissed as it lifted upon small automated hinges to expose his mouth, his two hands pulling the whole thing away, as if the inside was burning against his skin. His trembling hand reached up to wipe his forehead, dark wisps of obsidian hair were damp with sweat...