Giving the small corridor a glance over he didn't find anything else of interest, and the mostly stone ceiling rapidly lowered itself to the floor just beyond the water which ended his little trip more forcibly than finding the potion had. There was a small pool of water where the ceiling met the floor, but nothing of interest hid beneath the water's surface. Putting the potion carefully into his pouches, not that there was much outside of his intent to signify the care, he pulled a torch out and began heading back towards the structure.
As he reached the overhang that led to the upper path, he heard something that kicked his heart back up and froze every muscle in his body. A low guttural growl came from further up the passageway, towards the light, and towards the exit. He couldn't have been out here that long. Sure it was later when he started out... but it couldn't be nightfall yet... could it? Dropping back below the overhang he stood, hardly breathing, and listened for the sound again. Silence. Every muscle tight with fear, he reached up and pulled himself to the upper pathway and sat listening again. Still silence.
Maybe he'd imagined it. The silence down in these caverns was deafening, and his imagination might have... a low hissing sound, like an exhalation from a throat that no longer knew what to do with the air surrounding it came sharply from below him, and down the passageway he'd just walked up. This was a bad idea. He shouldn't have come so far, he shouldn't have gone into the darkness like he had. Getting unsteadily to his feet, he pulled the sword out, and while it deepened the darkness between him and the next torch towards the surface, there was just enough light to see by and he stumbled forward towards it.
A low moan came from somewhere in front of him, and though every muscle in his body resisted, he continued that way, ignoring the convulsive shiver wracking his spine at the sound. The hissing sound from behind was followed by a kind of excited growl, and turning to look at the source, he saw a shape leap nimbly from below to land in the passageway he was trying to exit. He was terrified by how agile the thing had moved, as the leap seemed to be the most natural of movements for it. The torch behind it cast the figure's features in shadow, though its vaguely humanoid form, and the noises it was making left little doubt as to what it was. Turning back and stumbling into a run, sword out front, he prayed that whatever it was in front of him hadn't made it down...
Little more than a shadowy form, and at the far end of the torch's light, he saw another shambling humanoid shape heading his direction, moaning in a way that fastened his fear firmly around him, and almost managed to stop him completely. What did in fact stop him was the second form landing behind it. Th... three... three zombies, in a small corridor... He ran out of time to think, as the walking dead were upon him.
Swinging his sword in a desperate swipe at the creature that had come up behind him, he turned to just barely strike the first of the two zombies coming from the entrance that seemed now to be an unreasonable distance away. Turning once more, even as the second zombie was clawing its way past the one that had hopped back into it, he stabbed out at the zombie that had taken his first strike, and was not quick enough to turn and hit the second of the undead duo on his other side.
Teeth sank into one arm, as claws found their way into the other. He barely managed to hold onto his sword, the good that it did him, and fighting through the immense pain, he nicked the creature assailing him, which was enough at the least to cause it to hop away, leaving behind a burning sensation as a part of his arm familiarized itself with the outside air for the first time. Its partner was not impressed and took a slice to the face, keeping his attention for a moment too long, giving the zombie behind him opportunity to find healthy purchase in his upper back with both of its ghastly clawed hands.
Screaming out in a new kind of agony, he tried turning to face it, but the grip it had was secure, and he only managed to writhe long enough for the other two zombies to reengage him. Bringing his sword up to wiggle it in their general direction, he screamed as the creature attached to his back decided to taste his shoulder, ending that line of thought, and instead introducing his mind to a myriad of ways to appreciate pain.
Struggling to swing back over the shoulder housing a zombie's face, he managed to somehow convince it to release its grip, while fending off one of the zombie pairs in front of him with a blow, that was more of a flop of the sword. As it released him, he fell forward which did nothing to discourage the second undead creature, who wasted no time embracing him with its claws. In the grip of the zombie, who's excited guttural screeches froze his blood, he couldn't even get his sword high enough to discourage its new closeness.
His world was a swirling mass of fear and pain, each cascading over him, overlapping the other until he couldn't have distinguished one from the other. He wasn't sure if he was screaming at the second set of claws now raking his back, as the forward zombies partner decided to sample his legs, or the thought that this would be that last sensation he would enjoy. Looking up, he managed to catch a glimpse of the last thing he would ever see... a giant eye, gazing at him, imploring him to look at it... to see...
A crack, that he could feel race over the surface of his skull, and a pop at the top of his spine, accompanied a floating sensation as if all his bodily pains had been released into the air. At the sound of the crack, everything went dim... not quite dark, but not right... though what could be right about anything anymore, and the sound of the zombies excitedly tearing into his flesh faded off...
It was as if he was someone else, only hearing about this horrible experience happening to a guy he knew, when a bright flash of a pinkish purple blinding light brought his wandering mind back to what had just happened, and a low laughter that seemed to come from all around, a laughter that he could feel, more real than even the pain of moments before, a laughter that not only reverberated through him, but also seemed to carry him forward, thrashing him through the now light blinded darkness that was more rich than all the color he had known before. His entire body resonated with the slow pulsing of the light, and the low malicious staccato of the now fear inducing laughter. He didn't know what was happening, hardly knew what had just happened, but he did know that this sound, and this light, would end him if he allowed it to.
Fighting to pull away, he resisted in every way he could imagine, and slowly, he could feel himself pulling away from it. Truly? You would return? Back to from whence you've come? A searing pain wracked his body, a body he could no longer see, or feel, save for the shape given it by pain. THIS Is what you wish to return to? THIS is your choice? It was as if every piece of him, inside and out, were being assailed by the voice, a new crest of agony punctuating every darkly whispered word, his mind flooded by sensations that extended beyond the simple definitions of torture, and lit up entire ranges of his mind that had never begun to consider the world outside. So be it.
Wave after wave of agony, pain that following any reason would be numbing, rocked him away from the light, carried him from the laughter. And as what little bits of the world he could still remember began to dance along the perimeter of the darkness that was edging in around the fading purple light, he was never too far from the laughter, the hollow, dark, laughter. There was no joy in that sound, there was nothing at all, and soon, there was only darkness to fill the emptiness left in its wake.
Lying there in the dirt, he wasn't sure what he hated more; the pain slowly oozing from his limbs, or the barely contained amusement that Guile was wearing on his face. Taking an inventory, he realized that aside from his clothing, that hardly resembled clothing anymore, he had nothing. No pouches, no weapons, and no healing potion. It was funny how quickly his mind went to the healing potion now... though he wondered at why he was lying there in the dirt in the first place. His memories of the night before were a clouded mess, as if he were looking at his own mind through a fog of flashes scenes and... The healing potion!
Jumping to his feet, his head only a few seconds behind him, he rounded on Guile, "What did you do with it!?" his finger stabbing his point home in Guile's general direction. His head may have caught up, but it still wasn't firing quite right.
"I will admit," his guide responded, "this was not the reaction I was expecting." he continued with a shrug, "What with my saving you from evisceration."
"I!" he shouted before stopping as the last almost coherent memory he had came racing back. Sitting solidly on the ground, he quickly ran his fingers over his body, noting that everything was still attached and where he'd left it. The last almost clear memory he had was of a trio of zombies doing their best to rip his meat from his bones. Still in shock at the violence of his last memories, he tried to recall more, and was only unsettled by a faint memory of a dark laughter, which he attributed to Guile. The muscles and such on his body didn't ache any more than he would have expected from sleeping outside in the dirt. It was much like his previous stints at night, only this time the damage he remembered taking was far worse...
*GrrrrDggBlp*
The sound of his stomach, and the sharp ache it added suddenly consumed his attention. He was unreasonably hungry, and without his pouches, he needed to find a mushroom nearby. Getting back up and turning from Guile, he hunted around until he managed to find one sitting atop a nearby overhang jutting out over what could have been little more than a rabbit's den. Closing his eyes he focused on nothing beyond enjoying the sensation of eating, as the mushroom washed the hunger away and loosened the tightness he'd felt as well. Standing there, eyes closed, he almost didn't want to return to the present...
"And..." Guile's voice as usual tore him back.
Clearing his throat as he tried making sense of his scattered recollections, he responded, "And What?"
"I was waiting for you to finish your earlier verbal assault. Barring that, I was curious as to how long you were planning on waiting before you gathered your belongings," was the answer.
Glaring, his temper began to rise, "Why should I have to gather my belongings in the first place?!" he shouted, turning back to look at Guile "If you were able to save me before those," an icy chill at the thought of the creatures ran down his spine, as flashes of them bearing down on him momentarily cooled his temper, replacing it with a sick sensation that he struggled to ignore, "things... actually killed me," he continued far more subdued, "why did you leave my pouches behind?"
"It is by my grace that you walk again," Guile's voice lowered, that hollowness and sense of danger coming once more, and this time something else, a kind of cold shiver that ran through him with each word, "Fleshling. You chose to resist the pull of the land, and now you are indebted to me.." he drew out the last word, and the violence laced smile seemed to carry an almost physical component, as if he could feel the threat beneath his skin.
Stepping back and running into the overhang, he tried to respond, his voice coming far weaker than he would have liked, "I what?"
"Come now," Guile answered, stepping closer, at least, he moved closer, though he didn't see him step... "Have you forgotten already?"
A flash of pain lit up the back of his skull, and closing his eyes, reaching up to cup his head as if somehow doing so would lessen the pain he saw a pearly purple light behind his closed lids and a flash of something else...
"There you go," Guile's voice, the threat unveiled, coming from far too close, "I wouldn't want you to think I didn't care..." A stab of pain erupted from the back of his skull and clamped down vice-like, the invisible teeth sinking into his back and pulling his hands down and away from his face, holding him upright and facing Guile, who was standing within arm's reach, or at least what would be arms reach, were he capable of moving his arms.
Struggling against the invisible barbed bonds, he had flashes of something... something from after the attack, but it was vague. Like the memory of a dream... only that haunting laughter stood out, and something else... "Graaaahhhh!" the invisible barbs bit down into his bones, and with them the memory of pain came flooding back, but only for a moment, leaving him gasping for breath and still suspended.
"That's better," the malevolence in Guile's voice was coated with a kind of self satisfaction, oozing out and around him, its sounds caressing his skin with an icy brush... "You live, Because I will it," the final word punctuated with a bite of his invisible bonds, "You will die, When I will it," again a bite, and this time his arms we pulled hard behind him, further than he felt the should go, folding his back and stretching his chest to a painful degree, "You will serve your role, and Builder..." the voice trailed off as Guile stepped right up to him, the almost smile a dagger that cut across his face, "Remember that You chose your role." at those words the bonds released him, and he fell in a puddle of arms and legs to the ground, his every muscle aching from being stretched beyond their want.
The sound of Guile collapsing in front of him gave him a sort of twisted pleasure, knowing that his guide was currently recovering from whatever went on during his dark theatrics. He realized that he should have been afraid, terrified even, but he didn't even have the energy for that. Breathing was taking the majority of his concentration at the moment, and he was rather fond of air, and so he continued focusing on that.
"Hehehe..." a low, weary, chuckle, not the sound of someone who moments before had suspended him like a marionette, but he knew better than to warm up to him... especially now. Something had changed after the zombies attacked him, and while he was glad that there was an after at all... he wasn't sure anymore what he should be doing. This was more than threatening words and worrisome behavior. This... he didn't know what this was.
IiIiiInnNnNnnNn... OoOooOouUuuUuUut... IiIiIiiiInnNnnNnn... OooOoOoouUuuuUut... his body shuddering with each breath as he tried to expel the fear, pain, and... IiIiiIIiiiInNNnn... OoOooOOoouUuUuuUut... IiIiiIIiiiIinnNnNnnN... OOooOooOoouUuuUuUut... Whatever else it was that now had a hold of him.
"Besides," Guile began, still sounding weak, "I had to make a decision between your pouches and your arms. I feel I made the right decision," he said, getting back to his feet as he did.
His stomach dropped at the thought of his arms lying limply beside his body as the walking dead attempted to brutally dissect him, and with everything else, he was uncertain for a few moments whether or not it would be capable of keeping itself in check. As he took another shuddering breath, he tried to argue, far less forcefully, "I don't know whether or not you're kidding about my..." shuddering again, he continued, "arms... but I thought you had nothing to fear from the walking dead. And after all that... whatever it was you just did, why would you have to make a decision about anything?" he asked, carefully pulling himself to his feet on the overhang behind him.
"I don't make it a habit to kid about arms," Guile responded, his voice getting back its usual Guile charm, "but as I've said before, my lack of concern is due in part to the choices I make. You are thankful to be here, are you not?"
Not liking where this conversation was going, and realizing that trying to get a straight answer from Guile was most likely a waste of his time, he changed course, "Yeah, and I still don't know what you're playing at, but you probably left my things on purpose. You didn't want me to..." trailing off as he realized that they were not in sight of the structure, he looked around and tried to figure out where they were.
"The building is over there," Guile informed him, pointing off towards a hill that rose steeply, and was dotted with trees.
"Why..." he began.
"This is where I first found you," was the response.
"Why..." he tried again.
"Where else would I bring you when you no longer have the capacity to choose for yourself where you end up?" Guile asked, seemingly serious.
"You could try the structure," he answered incredulously, a little bit of ire creeping into his voice.
"You haven't even seen fit to build so much as a bed there," Guile answered, "So why would I assume you want to sleep there more so than anywhere else?"
His mind was reeling at the ridiculousness of Guile's claims. That any person would choose waking up in the dirt over waking up with a roof over their head was an absurd statement. He was hesitant to argue too heatedly though. After almost coming to terms with the fact that Guile would intermittently creep him out, he now had that whole new horror show to worry about. He had no illusion that Guile was dangerous before, but now...
"How am I supposed to go collect my things without a weapon when they're down in those caves?" he asked, testing himself to walk towards where Guile had indicated the structure was.
"I am not sure what it is you're afraid of in the daylight," was the response, "The rabbits around here aren't as dangerous as they may look to you."
Glaring, but still wary about engaging Guile again, he took a few successful steps and began heading towards the structure to make sure the well dressed gentleman was still there. "I was worried about the slimes," he appended as he walked.
"Hehehe, were it night, you would sound marginally less pathetic. But as you should recall, they are non-violent during the day. At least not at the shallow depth you had descended to," Guile answered him, following behind him.
Stopping and moving to the side so that he could see Guile, he gestured for his guide to walk past, "After you," he said, a little shakier than he liked.