HOUSE OF FIRE
It could be hours it could be days. All I've deduced from my painful time here is that I'm locked up in the dungeons. No one came for me for a long time. The room I'm in is low, there's a furnace on the other end and barrels of blood lining the room. In the center is a long table that would usually be used in a kitchen but considering the castle we're in I'm certain it was never touched before.
"Listener!" His voice echoes down the corridor. When he emerges, his eyes are filled with the worst madness I have seen. He's hunched over, like he's been working on something, a writing or something labor intensive for some time. "Listener. Are you hungry?" He croaks out.
"Get me out of these chains!" I scream. I tried everything. Electricity? Not there anymore. Vampire Lord shift? Too weak for it. Pure strength? I can't even lift my head up that far.
Cicero stops to take in my form. "Listener, how naughty you were." He opens one of the barrels and swishes his hand in the blood. The scent is decadent. I pull against the chains, my body is only sore now, the only fire inside is in my throat. Last time I felt this pain was as a fledging.
"Give. Me. Now!" I can barely make out the words, I'm mad with need for sustenance.
"Listener," He purrs, "Only on one condition will I give you blood."
I stop thinking, just thrash against the chains in a frenzy.
"Do you agree? Is that Listener saying yes?"
"Give it to me!"
"Swear loyalty to Mother!" He turns to yell at me. "Swear it now and I will give you blood!"
I keep thrashing. He runs over and begins to kick my legs. I scream. "Listener disobeyed! Listener tried to run! But now Listener is running out of time." He stops, dead still and smiles down at me. "Listener won't be useful anymore…unless. Listener obeys."
I'm not really listening to what he's saying. I just watch him with hungry eyes. If I can goad him to getting close to my face I can tear on his throat and drink him dry.
"Naughty Listener." He whispers then sinks to the ground. His hand is so close to my face. "The Dark Brotherhood did so much for you, and this is how you betray them? You are bound to us forever…" He reaches out the bloodied hand over my head. Two drops of blood, just two, fall onto my forehead and dribble down my face. I lick away each bead that falls to my lips. It's not enough, but it's something.
I look up back to his hand, waiting for more. "Is this what Listener wants?" Cicero shakes his hand and two more drops fall. I catch one on my upper lip but the other falls to my chin. I try, so desperately to lick it but can't quite make it.
"Is this what Listener wants?!" He screams in my face. The noise is enough to break my haze and make me jolt.
Before I can comprehend the next movements, he's pummeling my face. He grasps my cheeks in his gloved hands to thrash my head back and forth. "IS THIS WHAT LISTENER WANTS?! TELL CICERO. BEG CICERO. BEG CICERO LIKE HE BEGGED YOU TO RESPECT MOTHER!" He smashes my head against the wall in a sickening smack. It makes an indentation but it's not enough to daze me.
His black and red laced hand runs down my cheek, like he was trying to apologize for what he did. The blood smears all over my face with the trail he leaves, he brushes his fingers all over my bottom lip. "This is for Listener." He smiles. It's a cruel smile, one that I've only seen him give his enemies.
He sticks two of his fingers in my mouth, enough for me to suck every drop off. "Shh," Too soon, he removes his fingers and clamps my jaw down with both hands. I seethe, I moan, try to move closer to get more blood that's spilled on his jester outfit. But his hands are strong. I can't open my jaw even if I wanted to.
"Shh, Listener. This is important." He smiles down at me. "Are you listening?" He sings and wiggles my head around, clasped in his death-grip. I hiss.
He just laughs. "Quiet, quiet. This is it. This is the very thing you've needed to hear for so long, but maybe now you will understand it. Darkness rises when silence dies, but silence reigns when darkness is all we see. Mother is watching." He then shoves my head back into the bricks and slowly ambles out the doorway. Not once turning to my snarls and pleas for him to come back.
I lick all the spare blood I can from my lips. It's not even close to enough. But it's something. The fire inside rages on.
Cicero's Journal Entry
28th of Rain's Hand, 4E 202
Listener is still in chains and still contemplating. The others are almost here…Mother! Your coffin is almost here! Cicero can't keep the joy from spreading but he must work. He must prepare. This is very important, and Cicero can't fumble like Listener did. No! He would never be that foolish.