"I know you're there, Black Bolt," came the singsong voice from the darkness, quiet as a thief and slow like thick velvet. The sound of a chair shifting grated on the stone floor, resonating in the close air, and the glimmer of an eye appeared alongside the faintly lit silhouette of a sharp cheekbone. A tooth glinted in the half-light as his mouth stretched into a wolfish smile.
"I know you've come to stare into the abyss - this frightful mirror you call your brother, this grim and macabre warning, the nightmare-self that haunts your quiet moments, breathing icy breath onto your shoulder every moment of every day, even when the sun is high..." he let the words die away on a breath, until the silence stretched so oppressively through the cell that every heartbeat was a dangerous intrusion into the heavy air.
"Why are you here, Blackagar?" he said, breaking the silence just as it was becoming unbearable. "To gloat? Just to check that I'm still safely locked away? To save me?"
A footstep, and he moved into the light. A haunted specter of Attilan's prince; his hair was disheveled and he was so thin that his cheekbones appeared seconds from cutting through the whiteness of his skin, but the most terrifying part was his eyes; bright with fevered madness sunken in pits of darkness, they glimmered with a cruel malice from the shadows.
"I've missed you, Blackagar," he said through barely-moving lips still tight in a half-grin. "It's good to see you."
Silence.
"Ah, and how is the family?" he asked, putting on a fond smile. "Our dear cousins Triton and Karnak and Gorgon and Crystal? What about Medusa? Is her skin still as white, her lips still so rosy and full? Is she still as much fun to fuck?" He spat the word mockingly.
"Oh - don't be mad, Blackagar," he said innocently, pouting slightly. "It's only right for brothers to share, and besides, I've been so lonely in here. You don't visit as much as you used to." He thought for a second, then smirked slightly. "You should send Medusa up here once in a while. She entertains me almost as much as I do her." He snorted lightly and turned away, clasping his hands behind his back to ponder the blank stone of the cell.
"The decor could use some work," he commented tiredly. "Too dreary, I say. Could use a touch of color to brighten things up."
He looked over his shoulder. "Well, yes, I suppose I am doing alright, all things considered. Thank you for asking." He paced to the far wall, then spun on his heel and walked back again, hands still entwined behind his back like white spiders. "I'll have you know I am not pleased with the direction Attilan is taking, by the way. Not pleased at all," he said, shaking his head in disappointment. "Emancipating the Alpha Primitives, all these newfangled projects and abolition of ancient rules... I even hear old Karnak is trying to reform the Genetic Council, bless his oversized skull. Is that true? No matter," he continued without pausing for an answer. "Suffice to say everyone can't be thrilled with your policies of late; and when peasants go hungry, Kings get deposed.
"Came up with that myself," he added as an afterthought. "Good, right? Obviously metaphorical in this case, but the point stands..." A heavy, drawn out sigh.
"I'm so sick of this cell," he whined, rushing to the bars and grasping at the empty air. "Can't you let me out, Blackagar? I'll be good, I promise; I'll take care of Medusa, I'll rule fairly! Please?"
He waited, but no response came.
"Damn you," he hissed, eyes narrowing venomously. "Some day you will come to regret this callous distrust. You can keep your kingdom, and your idiot subjects. You can keep them and you can do what you want with them. It won't matter to me."
His chest heaved with a twisted, bitter breath, and his lips pressed together. He closed his eyes tightly for a moment, and when he opened them again a curious hint of pain could be seen. "Oh, my brother," he said, almost wistfully. "I fear a high doom has caught us. I fear we are going to fall."
He raised a trembling hand to his face and bowed his head. But raising his eyes once more, his gaze was cold and blank.
"Something bad is coming. It's your responsibility to keep Attilan safe. It's your responsibility to protect me. So what are you going to do, Black Bolt?"
No answer.
"What are you going to do?
Silence.
"Great Randac, Blackagar, where are your manners? You ought to answer someone when he asks you a question."
He waited for a moment. Then his eyes flared with rage and he bared his teeth. "ANSWER ME!" he screamed.
The maddened yell echoed through the stone chamber for a moment - but the only reply was silence.
"I'm sick of this cell, I'm sick of you, I'm sick of your fucking silence! Damn it..." his voice cracked and a rough sob tore at his throat.
"And now you're going to tell on me, aren't you? I can hear you now," he sneered, tears gone as quickly as they had come. He adopted a mocking tone. "Maxi said a bad word! Punish him, mommy!' But wait -" his voice grew suddenly low again, and he leaned forward to grab at the cell bars - "Mommy and daddy are DEAD!" he yelled, face contorted into a hateful grimace.
Then he dropped his hands from the bars as if they had suddenly grown hot and clenched them into fists, breathing hard. "You know," he said softly, "I really wish you'd been nicer to me. I wish I wouldn't need to get payback once I escape. I really do. But you've tied my hands; I don't think I can let this behavior go unpunished, you bad boy."
He sucked in a breath through his nose and straightened up, the imperial bent of his neck finally betraying his royal blood. "I hate you," he said coldly. "Before you are ready, and long before you expect it, I shall get out of this cell. And then I will have my rightful place on the throne of Attilan, and I will chain you up before me to watch as I rule better than you ever could. I might keep Medusa, but I think I'll kill the rest of our cousins. And what will you do about it?"
His eyes flashed in the darkness. "What will you do about it, Blackagar?"
A pause.
"Answer me, damn you!" His face was contorted with rage, desperate for a reply or the barest acknowledgment of his provocative words.
But the room outside the cell was empty, and silence reigned.