Memories of a Madman: Part 1

For this chapter, we will dive into some of the memories lurking within the head of the mysterious man leading the Orm's Lords. It will be a short break from focusing on the Smashers and their Rosträdgårdian allies most of the time. Let's get going.

What is happening to her? Is someone eagerly trying to exact revenge or general injury on her, and if so, for what reason? I have yet to identify the foul bastard who harmed her poor body and soul, but once I get my hands on him, I will see to it that he suffers enough pain to break his vile intentions and back away from her and what remains of the family. I must speak to several government officials to offer her additional protection. Perhaps the Grandmaster of the Black Guard may be willing to cut a deal with me…

-Personal diary entry from an unsigned journal

"It is time to let my mind rest," the mysterious leader of the Orm's Lords sighed. He was in his personal room, located not too far away from the throne room. A polished window provided his view of the lava-soaked lands of the Isola del Inferno, their molten light fusing with the lunar aura above to illuminate what stood above the altitude of complete or even partial submersion; the distant sea, however, was still black as the gloomiest shade of roses. "Maybe this will be a time where I will be free from obstacles blocking me from a proper rest." Keeping his black uniform under the robe on—excluding his boots—he draped his bed's violet blanket over himself and waited for the moment of unconsciousness to come forth and escort him towards a sea of dreams or, failing that, a realm of dark nothingness. He removed the lower part of his mark to provide some breathing room, though little of his pale face became exposed to cold air.

"…" His mind soon dipped itself into the desired blackness of his unconsciousness, but not long after its arrival did he soon experience something unexpected and unwanted.

"Sir, may I ask you something?" He was speaking to the Grandmaster of the kingdom's elite Black Guard, an honest man who was willing to listen and assist him in any manner necessary.

"I am listening, my good friend. What do you wish of me?"

"I need to seek protection for close friends, associates, and family members of mine, those who are likely being subjected to attacks by corrupt members of the government—especially for her."

"Hm, you meant that young girl? The one who is a close friend of the princess? I can understand your concern; your family is one of the most prestigious in the Rosträdgårdian government, and if what you say is true, that I am going to do everything in my power to shield those in your circle. The girl is especially important, since attacks inflicted upon her may potentially bleed over to the princess and put the new royal family in danger."

The younger man remained still after listening to his colleague's response. At least there was someone within the power structure of Rosträdgård that he could safely trust without the risk of the man unwittingly selling information to those with ulterior motives. "Thank you for your understanding. Now, if you'll help my brother secure the Royal Army against corruption within the lower ranks on top of my original demand, then you will have my eternal gratitude."

"Your family shall be safe with my help. I will be asking the royal family for approval of our actions."

The younger man sipped from his porcelain cup of tea before asking another question. "Has the monarchy already been cracking down on corruption in the higher ranks?"

"The royal couple has been trying to do so, but the Prime Minister and his parliament are resistant bastards who are willing to do anything when defending foul-spirited soldiers, even if it means having their credibility ruined in the eyes of moral peoples. Why, someone even claimed that the minister himself stated that anyone claiming that corruption was an issue in Rosträdgård should not be taken seriously. Perhaps he should say that to protesters who know better." The leader sipped from his glass of chilled water before eating some pickled herring from his plate.

"It is all too strange, really; our constitutional document enshrines equality, but some of our leaders are trying to force discriminatory laws on minority groups. Prior to sixty years ago, Vindfält would not even allow vampires or members of the Blackland ethnic group to enter. We have made much progress since then, but corrupt fools are trying to reverse all efforts at equality."

"I do not fear greatly for the future, for in the end, we will have a society where everyone can enjoy life as he sees fit, without harm to himself or others around him. Our corrupt figures shall be removed from office and rightfully punished."

"Optimistic words…" The young man left the room for his quiet home, keeping the most recent statement in mind. Perhaps it was a bit unrealistic to assume that all corruption would be vanquished in the nearer future, but there was still a reason to believe in a prosperous society where everyone could reap the benefits of a wonderful life.

…

…

"I have some good news for you, dear leader of goodwill. Thanks to approval from the king and queen, the Black Guard will send in escorts to areas in which your family and friends reside. We solemnly swear that no further harm will approach their doorsteps. The king has also promised to uproot corrupt officials from government and take all appropriate actions against them." The leader had a warm smile on his face while informing his client of what was to bless his family in the future.

"I commend you for your dedication. Now, just to let some time pass away, would you like to watch the latest show by that comedian? What is his name… Johan Eriksson?"

"Ah, the self-proclaimed Great Spirit of Rosträdgårdian Laughter? He is always one to draw audiences wherever he goes, but he has been acting a bit reckless as of late. But I digress. Let us have him perform some entertainment for us."

"We shall." The two men grabbed their coats to prepare themselves for the cold winter winds outside their location. Stepping into an elevator at the closest hallway, they observed the towering skyscrapers of Vindfält—though each such edifices paled in comparison to Björnstad's greater skyline—and the beautiful sea to which the city was a close companion. When the leader and his younger client finally exited at the ground floor, they sought to locate their train back to the kingdom's largest city.

Outside his realm of memories, the masked leader tried to coerce his mind into blanking out completely, but to no avail. In fact, it seemed to him that the more he wanted to suppress the mental cracks, the greater the number of memories that rushed forward to overwhelm him.

"I am so scared… Why must I always fear for my life?" The teenage girl in front of him was on the verge of tears as she sustained yet another day of abuse from an as-yet unknown source.

"I swear on my life, my dear, that whoever is doing this to you shall face justice for his crimes. The Grandmaster is working with me on tracking down the culprit. All troubles aside, I have a gift for you." He presented to her a bouquet of roses containing many different colors, including a rare white specimen. The vase holding the entire group in a small pool of clean water was marked with the name of the young girl, the recipient of a kind gift.

"This is my sign of familiar love to you, my vow to protect you from further harm despite the challenges that await me. Your parents and the Black Guard are assisting me in my efforts, so there will be nothing to fear once we capture the one responsible for your suffering."

"Th… Thank you. Please save me from further torment." Her face expressed much relief at the prospect of being shielded by trustworthy officials of the government. If what he said was true, then she had nothing more to fear, failures of the group notwithstanding. Her long hair was pulled by her delicate fingers to remove a couple of curls from the soft complex.

"I shall. Let me ask you a question; do you know what your attackers resemble? That can give me a clue about where to investigate."

"There are figures in white robes who appear after I diverge from Princess Lillian's path to the train, which is not too far away from this domicile. They would gather around in a circle and constantly attack me with wooden rods. When asked why they were committing unnecessary violence, they mostly remained silent, but one of them said that the family would pay for defying the wishes of certain members of the government. Perhaps they are clients of several officials." The girl wiped the tears from her face as she told her story, strands of red hair illuminating her face in the sunlight.

"Have they tried to do anything else?"

"Yes. On this latest attempt, they stripped me of nearly all my clothing and tried to…" She removed some of her clothing to reveal deep, reddened marks close to her still-small breasts and genital area, keeping her undergarments on. The man stepped back in shock as his mind realized what the perpetrators had just committed today. It was now clear that he would have to accelerate his efforts to protect her.

"And that was not all," continued she. "They also threatened to attack or even kill Lillian and possibly her family."

"Damn… I have no choice but to report this scenario to the Grandmaster immediately. Mark my words, I will help clean the government of wretched filth like your attackers." Before leaving the building, he performed a polite bow to the adolescent girl as a sign of respect. As he stepped outside, his ears caught the following words:

"I love you…"

Becoming increasingly annoyed by his inability to sleep without mental interference, the leader darkened his room by pulling a metallic shade over his room's only window and diminishing the lamp on his desk to the dimmest configuration possible. Then, he removed the robe and mask from his body, exposing them to the coldness of his room—though they were far from visible in his new darkness. His blanket swallowed more of his body by order of his hands, reaching all the way to his nose and forcing his warm breath to touch soft fabric. None of what he did, however, could save his tired mind from what could be deemed highly unpleasant moments of his earlier life.

His soothing ride to his brother's home ended with a disturbing sight in front of him. The front windshield revealed how the house was ruined by outside forces; the walls and roof sustained major damage in some areas—leaving the whole building at risk of collapsing—and smoke oozed from all gaps in and around the home. Parts of the grass on the ground were roasted and devoid of plant life. No lights were active on the inside and the owner's vehicle was overtly trashed, further intensifying the worries of the approaching man.

"Shit…" With his heart now racing, he parked his machine on the driveway and pushed his door open. His feet were muscular pistons pressing against smooth concrete while he sprinted into the ruined home. The scene which fell into plain view was highly unpleasant.

"Why?" Heavy burn marks and holes were present on the walls, floor, and ceiling. Pictures and other personal items were knocked over, leaving the floor a place where debris of several sorts gathered to eviscerate what was once a clean environment. In the kitchen, a decimated oven still had small flames on its interior surface, all of them suggesting that the entire device had detonated sometime prior to the man's arrival. Many kitchen tools and dishes were scatted haphazardly across both floor and tabletop, joining a handful of torn cabinet doors in forming a mess. A nearby vase of roses was outside, supposedly thrown through a now-damaged window. In the living room and rear patio, many objects were simply torched; for the former area, all its lights were uprooted from their original resting places and the television set was pierced by a broadsword. The door connecting the two divisions had been smashed to pieces, leaving behind nothing but sheared wood and tiny glass bits.

"I just hope that he's still alive." While his legs cooled down from running, his heart was still racing; in fact, it seemed to be increasing its speed when its master transitioned to the spiral stairway and then to the second floor. A nearby pianoforte thankfully remained untouched, but the same could not be true for the rest of the upper hall. Portions of the walls and the ceiling had collapsed to expose the home to cold Rosträdgårdian winds. A bookshelf was roasted to cinders, leaving very little left of the owner's collection of novels. The next hallway down contained a bathroom with a broken mirror and many personal toiletries on the floor, a closet with many expected items missing and possibly stolen, and three bedrooms with damaged doors. When he checked the one belonging to the parents, he was shocked by the damage dealt to its once-beautiful scenery—now resembling what was common to other portions of the beaten residence—but he was more horrified by what was not present.

"Karl…" He searched long and hard for the man in question throughout the entire house, but the co-proprietor of the home was nowhere to be located. His wife was also disturbingly absent, leaving only the children unaccounted for. He first checked the room of the son, the adolescent girl's brother, but his search for the boy was simply fruitless. With personal frustration on the rise, he finally checked the redhead's room, only to find a trail of blood on her bed amidst a large mess in her room. The nearby window was broken and contained traces of blood leading back to the bed. The investigator almost felt like having a heart attack when he pondered what could have befallen the whole family, especially in the case of the innocent girl.

"Where could they have gone?" After one last search to ensure that he was not missing anything, he exited the defaced home and began his task to report this incident to the proper authorities.

…

…

"So, you have finally found them. But are they okay?" His question was firm and clear as day, but the officer who was escorting him only responded with a grim look on her face. When they finally reached their destination—a wooded area between a solitary road and a sparkling lake—their vehicle slowed down at the spot where several police vehicles were parked. In the orange light of the dusk, red and blue visual sirens alerted the man to where the accident occurred with their contrasting hues. The man stepped out of the vehicle from the right side and requested an approach to the crash site, eventually convincing the officers to let him through. In front of him was a wrecked vehicle… slammed against a tree and filled with two mutilated and dead bodies, one of them being the direct relative of his.

"Damn! KARL!"

His heavy breathing became far more erratic despite his attempts to repress all negative memories. He slammed the blanket over his face, but this failed to relax his subconscious state. It also did not help that the tectonic forces of the Isola del Inferno were shifting magma beneath solid rock and the headquarters of the Orm's Lords. His bed was not spared from mild but significant vibrations, but the rest of his building fared no better. In fact, several floors down, Lars Isberg—who was finished transferring supplies to his personal laboratory and to other locations across the neo-Gothic structure—felt himself having to stabilize his feet for the few seconds that the volcanic island's earthquake was active.

"The island's natural forces are waking up…" he sighed calmly. He leaned against the nearest wall and remained there until the vibration stopped. Afterwards, he proceeded with his objective of alerting his mysterious master about Magnus Hedin's recent departure and possible betrayal of the Lords. After passing through a hallway that connected itself to the main foyer, he entered a steel elevator and selected the topmost floor in which his master's personal room was located. The advanced motor of the car quickly propelled him to his destination in less than an expected minimum of twelve seconds.

"I hope the master is available for talking." As he exited the windowless elevator, he approached where the masked man was expected to be, but when he was about to open the door, he encountered an unexpected problem.

"It is locked. I should wait until he frees himself from whatever private business he has on his hands." He left for his personal quarters, ignorant of the fact that his commander was experiencing a loop of memories in his subconscious state, most of them negative. This condition did not improve after a span of two hours or so, long after many of the workers of the building had retired for the night. On the contrary, it only worsened. Specifically, while Lars returned to the topmost floor to speak with his leader, the latter man was confronted with one of the most unpleasant memories of his lifetime.

"I will kill you for what you have done…" His obscured face was writhing with raw anger as a past event leading to the breaking point in his relationship with Rosträdgård infected his mental state with its unwanted disease. His hands gripped the top edge of the blanket as harshly as possible, almost to the point of exposing veins stuck beneath pale flesh. His ears were stuck in a subconscious realm, unaware that the elderly captain was knocking on the wooden door and quietly calling his name.

"I cannot believe what you are telling me. Are you telling me that you have taken the entire Rosträdgårdian government hostage, all of it, just so that your regressive desires could be satisfied?!" He had already killed three of the vile figures that were in this area, but the rest were now holding him and the young children hostage. Blades and golden firearms made it impossible for the troubled trio to escape without being killed or injured.

"We know that you were responsible for outing our dear Prime Minister for what he committed against the girl and the children of government officials who opposed him. We bribed the king in hopes that he would bend to our demands to keep those with incriminating evidence quiet, and he was quickly forced to accept it to spare his family from harm. However, his bitch of a wife and the Grandmaster pressured him to reconsider and put our leader under arrest." One of the figures exhumed a dark aura in his voice while he spoke to the official about recent events.

"Wait, so you are telling me that the king became spineless just to protect his family?!" His voice became louder and more enraged as he realized what the ruling monarch had done. A sense of betrayal overcame his seething mind while trying to deny the bitter pill of truth.

"In a manner of speaking, yes. In fact, we have paid him multiple times to keep… events involving our leader and his associates quiet, hidden under the public eye. We made sure that his wife and children were kept in the dark about them, but you decided to change everything. The Grandmaster and you began a full-scale investigation while the Prime Minister sought reelection for his fourth consecutive term, hoping to ruin his reputation."

"The more we knew, the more it became that he was even more of a rotten criminal than I had first believed. He tortured those young children, especially innocent girls, because his extreme patriarchal views drove to "condition" them into an unbreakable state of regressive indoctrination based on rigid gender roles, ordered minorities to be driven out of certain areas of the kingdom, was eager to wage war with the Eastern National Alliance and the Desert Council over fabricated claims of excess immigration, and sought to remove protections for those who needed them the most." The troubled man was struggling to keep his cool, but the robed figures around him could already sense his emotional state—a sign of his cracking calmness.

"You know too much, as do all the "victims" of the accused, and it is our duty to prevent the lot of you from ever damaging our power structure again…" The assumed leader of the figures immediately conjured a purple energy blade in his hands before committing the unthinkable…

SLICE!

"NO!" He struggled to break free and stop the figures from harming the girl, albeit without success.

"Sir, are you available right now?" Lars questioned rather quietly. The locked door in front of him was the only thing blocking his eyes from the pained expression on his master's face, but when the elderly captain pressed his right ear against a cold surface to detect faint sounds, he could hear bouts of angry mumbling and groaning—indicators of possible trouble. Concerned, he knocked his left hand against the door.

Tap… Tap… Tap…

"Are you okay?" His knuckles struck the entrance slightly harder to draw the mysterious leader's attention, however futile such an effort was. Inside, the nightmare-infected man felt his groans increase in volume as most of his body locked up against his restraint.

He could not believe what he had been forced to witness. Blood sprayed onto the ground and painted the girl's face a dark hue of crimson as the robed figure murdered an innocent life to start his process of covering up every shred of evidence against one of the highest officials in the land. Nearby, the adolescent girl began to scream in bloody terror as her teary eyes absorbed all disturbing details of the execution. A flood of denial tried to grasp her traumatized mind, but it was far too weak to suppress reality. There was no way to deny it.

Her only sibling was gone.

"You killed him! How could you?!" she shrieked sorrowfully. One of the subordinates tried to cover her mouth to silence her screams, but her teeth nearly crushed bone in response, forcing him to yell in pain.

"DAMN YOU!" The protective man temporarily broke free from his restraints and conjured a flaming sphere that, upon launch, scorched the leader's face and left him growling in pain. His success was short-lived when two nearly subordinates zapped him, shot his ribs, and subsequently assaulted his paralyzed form with battering kicks and punches. While he was under attack, the now-enraged leader conjured multiple spheres of pure light, hoping to eradicate his latest nuisance.

"How dare you!" he snarled with intense vitriol in his voice. Deep burns were present on most of his face, surrounded by scorched segments of his cloak. "Now you've ensured that your fate is sealed! And once we're done with you, we'll purge the government of all forms of filth!" With most of his remaining subordinates, they began to torment the person whom they hoped was the merely the first in a long list of political targets. Their victim screamed in pure agony, feeling nothing short of hellish stabbing and burning while the adolescent girl could only watch in horror while one robed man restrained her by the arms. She screamed even louder as the one man who had long sworn to protect her was shot, fried, and generally ripped apart by cruel men who wanted nothing more than to bring the kingdom under their sordid influence. Tears dripped from her face at an even heavier rate. This was it.

She was about to lose another trusted figure in her life.

"STOP! NOOOOOOOO!"

"Argh…!" The leader woke up with a loud grunt, realizing that his room was still dark. While taking time to recompose himself, he noticed a faint demand from one of his highest-ranking subordinates.

"My master, I need to speak with you on a critical subject." The withered voice of Lars Isberg echoed from the room's only exit, prompting him to slide his boots and mask back to where they were prior to a troubled bout of sleeping. Reigniting the lamp on his desk, he slowly wandered towards where his servant waited.

Click…

"Captain Isberg?" he groaned with a weak shade of tiredness. "Why do you seek my presence at this point in the night?"

"You look stressed," the elderly magician replied. "What was happening to you?"

"I just had trouble sleeping due to a simple nightmare. Now, back to the question, what do you want from me?"

"While I was returning from my earlier trip hours ago, I noticed Captain Hedin leaving the island with his vehicle. I was not sure about what he was planning to do, but it is possible that he is planning to betray us. Shall we recall him to this place before he potentially sabotages our plans?" Lars kept his head lowered as he explained the obese captain's departure to his stronger but slightly shorter leader.

"If Hedin is indeed planning to defy our best wishes for the organization just to prove a point, then he must be punished, perhaps even executed if necessary. This is doubly true if he plans to enter Vindfält or the base in the Northern Plains; I may not share the stark sadism or the heated misandry of Captain Lindqvist, and I have dealt punishments to Captain Eriksson for some of his more potent pranks, but Hedin is allowing his grudges to swallow whatever rationale lingers in his mind. Once I get my hands on him, I guarantee that he will suffer for his betrayal. And trust me, Lars, when I say that his misogyny and sheer racism do him no favors when everyone outside our group is equal before the Svärtad Orm, an indiscriminate creature. Send a small squad to track him down as soon as possible."

"I will satisfy your wishes, and I hope you sleep well for the rest of this night." The long-haired captain exited the hallway to fulfill his duties, leaving his masked leader alone. The latter man, returning to his room, entered the personal lavatory to retrieve a small bottle of sleeping pills from the barren medicine cabinet. His mouth swallowed two pills before he returned to his bed and closed his eyes. The light of the dim lamp failed to sway his eyes into staying open as the pills disabled that which kept the obscure leader awake in the past few hours.

My mind will not rest until the source of my pain is crushed entirely. And that source is the mere existence of a kingdom that cast aside its trustworthiness long ago.

It was the last thought that sank into his mental space before he blacked out.

I hope that my master is not being frequently tormented by nightmares, however few there are. Equally so, I wish that Hedin does not ruin our plans in Vindfält or in the Northern Plains.

-Lars Isberg

Short chapter, eh? I could not get much done because of my academic business. For next time, we will see Magnus trying to reclaim glory for himself before the story shifts to the Smashers continuing with their mission. Read and review, and I will see you all later.

...

Whoosh...

Flandre: Aw, where's Mister Guy? I wanted to play with him. Well, I'll get my hands on him soon enough, and when I do, it's going to be a playtime to remember. It will be fun for us, forever and ever... Fufufufu...