Diaries: Obedience

Week Thirty-Eight.

Today... has been an exceptionally rough day. Even by the Spire's standards. And I didn't even see the Commandant, this was... this was someone else.

I was doing the rounds, overseeing the workers - or, more accurately, pretending to oversee the workers - when I stumbled across Bob. The officers had separated us and put us into different patrols soon after the 'vegetarian' incident, so I hadn't seen him for some weeks. He looked... rough. He looked ill. His face was ashen white, and he was fidgeting, picking at the cuticles on his fingers. I abandoned my patrol - to hell with the consequences - and went to him.

"Bob?"

First he denied it. Typical male. But I got the truth out of him eventually. The Commandant had made him torture a recruit this morning. Flogging, whips, blood, thumbscrews... it had been a very efficient torture. Bob shook when he told me.

I had heard of the Commandant commanding such things. He had tried quite a few times on me. I shook my head, "Why? Why did he order it?"

"He... overheard the poor bastard saying that he... he missed his family." He paused for a second, and then shook his head, slowly, "I'm glad I don't have a family."

I couldn't believe what I had heard. A pulse went through me, like... like something had broken inside. It was happening to him. He was starting to forget.

Michael.
Rose Marie.
Mattie.

Michael.
Rose Marie.
Mattie.

A shiver seemed to go through him then. Something passed over his face. Then he shook his head again, firmly, "When I said that... for a moment... It's hard to think with this noise. You know, I almost don't notice it anymore. It's... it's as familiar as my own heartbeat."

Oh Avo. Lucien's words. Lucien had got to him. The anger I felt then cannot be expressed in words. It... ate at me.

I took his arm, looking him straight in the eyes, my stance urgent, "Bob. You have a family."

He frowned at me, so confused, genuinely confused, "What're you talking about?"

"Lil. I'm talking about Lil. Do you remember?"

He just looked at me for a second, and then shook his head, not understanding. I wasn't allowed to remind the guards of their former lives. It had been forbidden weeks ago. The collar knew it. It gave a small squeeze, a warning.

I ignored it: "Bob. What is Lil short for. Lilly? Lillian?" the collar was getting steadily tighter, and I forced a hand up to my neck, my breathing growing short. An officer behind us had noticed. He watched me for a second, eyes narrowed, and then started walking over.

I tightened my grip on his arm, "Bob. Remember. You have to remember. Please."

"Guard 273."

I hesitated, fighting with the collar, my words gasps, "Yes, sir."

He watched me for a second, not knowing what I had done to trigger the collar but knowing it must have been disobedience, "Report to the detention centre. Now."

"Yes, sir."

My obedience gave slack to the collar. I could breathe properly again. I took one look at Bob's confused frown, and then turned and started walking.

Garth was in the cage at the end of the corridor. Keeping my head down, I glanced up at him. My hand was still on my neck, under the collar, nursing painful bruises, torn apart skin. My eyes seemed to transmit all my doubt, all my fear, all my anger. He caught it, immediately, and raised his head slightly.

Be patient. Time has no meaning here.

The words moved through my head without him having to speak them. He'd said the same thing the first time he saw me, when he figured out what I was. Be patient. He said it every time I walked past. He could sense my edginess, I suppose. I paused, watching him for a moment. Then I gave a small, slow nod, and left.


"273? Trust they'd send you."

I looked around. The wall was lined with cages, prisons, sealed by some strange Old Kingdom magic. One worker was placed in each one, waiting for their punishments. While they waited, they would stay without food, without water, sometimes for weeks. The men inside there now were horrifically thin.

Painfully, I moved my eyes off them. The detention centre was the pit of my nightmares. The last time I had been there, the Commandant had brought me to oversee the torture of a young worker, a boy, as part of my punishment for something I can no longer even remember. He had probably not seen fifteen summers. The Commandant had given me a flintlock pistol, a terrible thing, and ordered me to kill him. I refused. He tortured him, using his Will, threw lightning through his body until the boy collapsed to the stone, couldn't take anymore. He ordered me again. And I shot the boy through the head.

Michael.
Rose Marie.
Mattie.

Michael.
Rose Marie.
Mattie.

The guard on duty was Officer 162. I had, unfortunately, come across him before. He was a vile thing, malicious, depraved. He was such before he had come to the Spire. No doubt this place was a good vent for him.

He looked me up and down, as he always did, and then jerked his head begrudgingly at the prisons behind him, "Stand here and guard these maggots 'til I get back. They're not allowed any food though, so don't touch the controls."

"Or?" I asked, my eyes locked on his.

His eyes narrowed, "Or you'll be sorry." He glanced at the men over his shoulder, "I'm off to have a bite to eat." He moved his gaze back onto me. His eyes slid over me again, and he gave a small, unpleasant smirk, "Be right back. Then we can have a little... chat."

An unveiled threat. I clocked it with no emotion. I was used to this sort of thing from him. 162 smirked again, and then he left.

My eyes fell back on the prisoners. As soon as he had got out of sight they had started. Begging. Pleading. Their cries were dry and croaked in their throats. Their efforts were weak. Every move they made cut through me. And I had to. I had to.

There were seven cells. As soon as I approached the first the collar around my neck gave its squeeze of warning. I ignored it, and, quickly, threw down the first set of controls. Food fell into the cell, and the man devoured it, hungrily.

You must obey! I command you not to help these men!

No. I couldn't obey. Michael. Rose Marie. Mattie. Michael. Rose Marie. Mattie. I went onto the next, forcing down the lever. Pain struck through my head and I was forced to the ground. There is no feeling like it. Having your memories sapped, your will leeched away.

Another lever down. The screaming in my head was becoming unbearable. I could barely see.

Obey! They are to receive no food!

I managed to crawl to the next cell. I reached up, my hand sliding back along the cold stone wall, reached again, all the while the screaming echoing through my mind. Michael. Rose Marie. Mattie. Michael. Rose Marie. Mattie. I managed to get hold of the lever, and, with the last of my strength, I pulled it down.

My energy left. I'd only managed four out of seven. But it was all I could do. I fell to the floor, completely spent. I could feel darkness taking me.

The beating of leather on stone behind me introduced the re-entrance of Officer 162. I didn't have the strength to turn to him.

He walked up behind me, grabbing me by the collar and dragging me slightly off the floor. "You'll pay for this." His voice was a low growl.

"Not today." I managed, and then lost consciousness.

I woke up back here. On my bedroll. I immediately started writing. I didn't want so much time to have passed that I could not remember what the collar had taken from me. If I write it all down... if I am aware that the collar is taking my memories... then at least I have a chance of fighting it.

I cannot give up. This is too important to let slide. I will get out of this place. I will.


Things to Remember:

o The little boy I killed. And the prisoners in the cells. I must not forget the consequences of this place. I must not let its evil slip my mind.

o Bob. And Lil. If he cannot remember her, then I will. She deserves that.

o Michael.

o Rose Marie.

o Mattie.