Despite Gion having what one can only assume to be something of a frivolous carefree night, Finn was unfortunately drawn away from his bed and the rest that he craved by a soft tapping at his door. Finn already knew who the late-night caller was before he opened the door. Finn had tapped into the energy of the building, more specifically its residents so as to keep him aware of their positions at all times. While overjoyed that he and his family had been reunited, Finn would be able to truly trust anyone no longer and as such was utilising surveillance methods such as these.
Finn recalled the story behind this power as it was both a delightful and woeful tale of youth and the misadventures therein found. He had become friends with a rather brooding character, Huntress Wizard, and had persistently dogged her to teach him magic. Finn's boyish charm had eventually pierced the thick walls of distrust, not dissimilar to Finn's own presently, and they became gradually closer and closer. She was... his first. Things were going so well, but she was looking for more than Finn could give. The biggest hindrance was that Finn had actually been Romantically preoccupied with Flame Princess at the same time. H.W wasn't terrible, but it had been her first also, so there was a little awkwardness at first, but they found their way and ended up spending one of Finn's favourite nights of his life in Ooo. He had even committed to memory the location of the clearing in the words where the moon shone down in beams of celestial purity. Nonetheless F.P was informed, by Finn no less. His guilt burning nearly as hot as F.P upon hearing the news. It was because of her rage that one of Finn's brightest and most treasured nights, would be swiftly followed by one of his darkest.
Anywho, upon reaching the door Finn swung it open to reveal the presence he had detected, it was the head maid. However even before she could respond, a strong wind knocked the air out of her lungs as a blur passed her at near imperceptible speeds. She followed the dizzying entity before seeing Finn with his hand on another Maid's throat and his sword at another's. The head maid who Finn had met in his introduction quickly moved to help the two maids but one expecting glare from the seeming aggressor halted her in her tracks. Besides the royal family she was likely the most proficient combatant the household had to offer, her equal strength and rivalry to the Honour Guard Captain, head of the armies at the disposal of the Goldrinns is something of a favourite amongst the gossipers and secrets dealers alike, their dark pasts respectively chequered in blood and loss and triumph.
Competent as she may be, she is also experienced, and all of her instincts were telling her not to attempt anything that may incur this man's wrath. Rather than telling, they were screaming. Her body stiffened as if it were her first fight and for the first time in many decades, she felt the icy heat of fear burn through her veins as she froze in place. The invisible and painless yet tangible dread she could feel working its way to her core was not a welcome experience for the older woman and she steeled herself, lest she give Finn the awareness of his advantage. Though she hardly doubted he didn't already know. She recoiled at the idea of how much one would need to go through to reach such heights. Yet she is no stranger to aversity.
Her next words were careful and very tactful, and Finn immediately noticed her disarmed stance and clear concern for the two at his mercy. But Finn would not let up his pressure for anything. The problem? He could not sense them, at all. They contained no life force whatsoever and made no sound from their movements, almost as if they did not belong to this world. With the Head Maid's plea heard he demanded to know exactly 'what' these two unnatural beings were. But the answer was a lot simpler than the conclusions Finn was prepared for.
-
A loud clap, the pattering of blood and another clap once more accompanied by the pattering. The dark figure curled away from the light of a nearby torch knew the sound well. He tried not to think of the pain. So much pain. The light grasped at his legs like a demon, threatening him with claws of resplendent orange yet the brilliance of the solitary flame battling the dark brought no beauty to his broken world. It had been no time at all between his highest and where he was now. The strength unimaginable, the force immeasurable, the power unimaginable. The enemy had come at him so quickly and with such tenacity that even his magnificent strength had faltered.
The sweat that graced his brow was hot on his face and each moment dragged for an eternity, but he was not too caught up in the horrors of the past not to notice the dangers of the present. The not-so-distant sounds of torture had ceased, and that could only mean one thing. Sluggish footsteps resounded off the corridor beyond the figure's rusted, bent and bloody iron door comprised of bars that similarly graced his stone cell window. Old as the cell may seem, a very strong current of red energy flowed almost like blood through the cracks in the ceiling its slow pace and intoxicating dim light pulsed to create a transfixing allure yet instilling great fear in all the same ways. The bear like march had stopped at the cell next to the man's, a grunt, and then a great thud, the captive knew all too well the unfortunate neighbour's unceremonious return and was saddened at the lack of a crack or snap on his being delivered to the cell. That was because if there was one thing all the captives hated more than the 'guards', it was each other.
But as luck would have it, it was not the captive's turn today and a short while after the footsteps had sluggishly dragged their way back down the corridor, a bell rang out. Upon which the sound of each door to each cell in the massive expansive ring shaped 'prison' creaked open to allow each captive out of their cell. Our captive clumsily brought himself to his feet and staggered out into the corridor, his neighbour did not make an appearance. Our captive filed in with the hundreds of other captives in all different varieties of ragged and beaten heading in the same direction. Some of the younger more agile and headstrong captives would push their way to the front of the line but our captive knew this would not make a difference. Everyone here knew what would happen to the eager ones. despite some jostling and a few fights breaking out there was little trouble.
Our captive reached the massive double metal doors hanging wide open to allow the torrent of captives to flood through into the centre of the ring. Our captive looked to the sky and marvelled in despair at the grand height of the ring, stretching up as if to pierce the heavens, if only to call the wrath of God upon them. From the centre of the ring our captive could see the bars lining each floor of cells and through them the thousands of prisoners per floor, each trudging around the ring to reach the rope elevators, of which there were 20 – 10 up and 10 down in an alternating order, where one would place one's foot on a metal bar affixed to a rope which acted on a pulley system to take them up and down the floors. Naturally due to the sheer mass of captives, there would be many who fell and even took others down with them. However, upon reaching the bottom floor the bar would disappear into a still descending darkness. Some had tried to investigate as to where the darkness led but none had returned. So most simply stepped off onto the final floor and filed out with the others.
The 'guards' were not present for meal times, nothing resembling a staff member would ever appear in the two or so hours they were allotted for meals, no one could say how long it was because for each of them time had little bearing on anything that went down in the hell hole they inhabit. There was one thing waiting for them every day at the same time though, food. Copious amounts of it, none of it nice, but food nonetheless and all of it lying in a pile at the centre of the ring. However, whether a captive got food or not was another story. The routine remained the same the whole time the captive had been there, the 'King', another captive who seemed like the oldest amongst all the 'residents', would walk before the bloodthirsty crowd and take his time. Slowly sifting through the mess of meat and weed like vegetables that had been piled in a steaming pile of filth and nourishment until he found something that he would like to eat. He would then leave, but it was not until the very moment that the door behind him would close that every captive, young or old, thin or thinner, tall or short would hurl themselves towards the pile, ripping tearing and biting... each other. To reach the pile. It was a bloodbath every day and the captive we've been following was none too different, scrambling atop men and women alike to try to catch even a glimpse of the food underneath the other captives both alive and dead. But even before our captive could have had time to think about his next move his leg was swept from beneath him as another, larger and much heavier man, presumably unconscious, came crashing down on top. A gentle crack and no more did our captive have to fear deep into the night, chasing sleep that he could never catch. Now it was here to stay, or so he thought as the last breath of his life in this prison came to an end.