All characters belong to Crystal Dynamics and Eidos (C) 1995- 2006.
I was half asleep when this was edited. Written during a night of boredom and too much Tv.
The Mist
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The days flowed into an ever increasing span reflecting infinity. The eternal prison relished a deep and defined reputation as the treacherous spawn of the time-streamer Moebius. Originally it's hollowed walls were designed to hold the deranged in the hopes of betterment and a cure from the curse of insanity. However this dream was crushed underfoot by the machinations of an unforseen enemy. As the circle of nine fell into madness and decay at the height of Nupraptors grief, the prison echoed this suffering. The inhabitants remained locked in an unforgiving cycle of torture and false hope. A mere day would pass and for many, their lives would run a full course. For others time ceased to cause any real momentous effects and they sunk into a slow catatonic state, whimpering for an uncaring deity.
The prison lay divided, rooms embraced various time periods capturing the essence of each eras madness. In one such void the vampire Magnus lay in a state of utter emotional oblivion. The reality of such a harsh predicament scratched the surface of his psyche on the odd occasion, whilst full blown insanity gripped his every other waking moment. In this instance, a degree of lucidity scrawled slowly through the mist of his wounded mind.
Before the great battle against the Sarafan Lord, Magnus was glorified as Kains greatest lieutenant. Oh, he had been a magnificent creature, regarded with a preserved dignity and stunned awe by others. His brothers in the forms of Marcus, Faustus and Sebastian openly flaunted their gifts towards the dark lord. Yet Magnus, stayed his hand and displayed his talent with a quiet grace. Such inaction captured a glint of Kains attention, this simple modesty proved to be the vampires greatest asset and made him a worthy weapon in his masters eyes.
Such a fall from grace crippled Magnus with a burning rage that fueled his moments of clarity. Sadly these sessions were brief, as the prisons gaurdians quickly whisked away any hint of true sanity.
The mist was so often raised, that the vampire feared his own capacities as a raving corpse. The other patients were tainted with a fear induced reverence for the fiend. Their quivering, mocked the state he embodied and this harsh reflection gradually grated in his calmer moments. To be feared for the right reasons was a nobility in itself, as a warrior this served to reinforce his idealic reputation. The quaking amongst his brethren of eternal prisoners, fostered a grim reminder that he was merely a mockish parody of that perfect former self.
Though not a vain creature, his physical state served also as a reminder of the emotional inbalance within his addled mind. Open wounds, beating organs and pools of blood added a casual reference towards the intimate violation forced upon his person.
The walls of his cell closed in and continually vibrated with the shockwaves caused by broken destinies from diverted streams in history. Magnus slowly rolled to one side and began to stare out of the cells barred window into the night sky. A lone raven flew gracefully alone, uninterrupted by the conflicting vistas of time. The creature reflected a sense of freedom the vampire longed for. However this desire in itself repulsed him on a level most would never experience. There was no honour in pursuing a life outside these walls. His very essence lay stricken, tortured and twisted in these strangely intimate hallways. To return would only present a host of problems, broken, he served as a reminder of past glories suppressed. Magnus's presence would instil a nominal doubt and distort his once proud former visage. No, though escape was impossible, to even try would be wasted energy as the indignity that lay beyond this hell would be far worse.
A bitter irony lay in his vast superiority over the demonic guardians, however his lucidity barely lasted long enough to yield this power. The true torture lay in the reflections and past glories relived in these clear untainted passings. On the odd occasion Magnus laughed an insane cackle worthy of the damned. This reflected the hilarity he found in such a places inability to fully destroy him. For there was no device capable of reigning in that deadly gift, his curse created flaming scorched flesh which reflected the power of immolate and created a degree of satisfaction no matter the state of mind.
In the early days of his imprisonment, Magnus was willful and determined not to betray his masters secrets. The Sarafan Lord ordered his incarceration following the vampires proud ego driven attack on his enemies encampment. Initially their prisoner was forced into a barren, damp tiny chamber and hoisted upon a rack designed to capture his limbs. Over the months, his physicalities warped from a pure handsome envious creature to that of craven beast. The few brief torture free breaks yielded a despairing within his soul as clumps of flesh and rivers of blood lined that very chamber. The degradation failed to stop with the physical, as the Hylden demonstrated a new kind of evil, they stole his mind.
Initially Magnus feared not the outcome as he was strapped down to a large wooden table, his lustrous flowing raven hair shaved off falling onto the paved ground, for this would be his release. Sadly a cruel abomination was enacted upon the poor wretch. As his skull cracked under the surgeons implements, he realized there would never be a release and from this moment he was forever changed. The simple severing of those frontal lobes morphed Kains greatest warrior into a raving lunatic. The procedure was experimental and the Sarafan Lord had hoped to gain some information regarding his enemies movements. Sadly nothing was acquired and Magnus, left to rot in the eternal prison, became strangely satisfied. Subconsciously he knew, with this last act, to submit and experience this personal loss, Kains secrets would be safe forever.
Magnus sighed one last time, he could feel the mist returning. Outside the raven soured, experiencing the freedom this fiend longed for, yet he knew, would only come in his undoing.
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