Screams echoed throughout the Citadel.
The man was strangled in the air. Writhing as tentacles tore through his skin, coiling around his limbs until they covered his entire body. He could feel the weight of depravity beginning to crush him whole, as he could do nothing but watch as hell was raised before him.
It simply happened. Those wretched, horrible thoughts quickened to haunt him, and he broke. And he could sense himself breaking a thousand times more in the future. He was lacerated across flesh and bone, gushing blood and thick, curdling fluids as he relentlessly pried the tentacles off, yet they only tightened.
The weight of depravity was drowned in delusions. He tried to escape the questions, evade them for as long as he could, yet, inescapable as they were, it only struck harder once they were sent spewing into his mind like the failures of a broken dam. There was no possible way, there couldn't have been any way he could've escaped.
Who was he?
Why was this happening?
Where is he?
Why can't he exist unanswered?
The tentacles contorted and wrenched his gut, jettisoning down to the ground and sweeping entire buildings off their platforms. They swept and cut the cliffside apart, countless pieces of rubble tumbling down in an avalanche and leaving a cloud of smoke over the ruins.
They dug under the roads of the marketplace, burrowing across the pavement and cobblestone like rampant, ravenous dune splicers, their muscles vibrating and shrilling a piercing noise as they uprooted the stands and structures over and into the air. They peeled the ground's crust up like a blanket, layering the concrete over the towering guilds and workshops, flattening them in an instant.
Cracks of lightning snapped through the man's arms and body. From every vein and bone, tentacles ripped out his skin and threw themselves through the demolished buildings, the man shrieking in agony as more curdled fluids hemorrhaged violently across the cuts, vomiting a sanguine slurry over and onto his chest.
A glimmer ran forth at the side of his eye, Kade. He flew forward with pairs of seraphim wings, a blade formed from his hand as he steadied himself to strike. Yet the tentacles dashed through the air like speeding spreads of bullets, cracking fierce and rapid with the sound of a bullwhip, punching him in the head and shattering his blade.
The man could feel dread commingle and steadily choke out his mind as he watched rigid cracks and cuts spew out from the impact on Kade's head, his wings going limp as he fell into the rubble. But again, the tentacles did not stop, scouring the mounds and mounds of debris until they ensnared Kade from around the waist, raising him to the sky, loose stones tumbling off his shoulders.
"NO! Don't h-hurt him!" The man wailed.
Nothing would have remained in him at that moment. After all, he was dangling in the air, almost lifeless with the tentacles strangling him out of air, watching with the last slivers of his grainy vision as everything was reduced to rubble before him.
And tentacles amassed into one, binding each stand against the others like tendons, twisting and tying and knotting until they formed one massive arching blade.
He's going to die
He's going to die
He's going to die
He's going to die.
It coiled back, ready to pierce it through his body.
The man pushed and pulled and screamed and shouted.
Yet once it lunged forward, from the distance, a sudden ear-piercing roar echoed throughout the area.
The smell of smoke filled the sizzling air as the sky turned a burnt orange. From in front of the sun, a giant feathered dragon, its wings arced across the sky and shone a bright crimson red that melted into gold and emerald green accents.
The tentacles quickly turned away from Kade and toward the towering beast, which let out another roar. A giant cloud of fire bursted out of the dragon's mouth, incinerating the tentacles into black ash. The man's skin burned and sizzled, sending shocks of pain through his body. An array of flames circled through the dragon's body.
The burning flames then launch at the man, each crashing into his body and tentacles. The fire scorched through the man's muscle fibers, his limbs felt life withering away. The dragon glided into him and seized his body with its sharp talons.
The man's vision slowly fades to black, as he'd carried through the air. Kade lay on the ground, coughing up blood with his legs and arms twisted. Lloyd was crushed over rubble, barely moving with several holes punched through his chest. Dozens of civilians lay dead over the demolished city.
What…have…I…
Done.
Laurence…
A dark rumbly voice echoed through the man's ears.
The man quickly woke up.
"What? Who said that?"
Me. I'm within your mind.
"Wait, you're in my mind? Who are you? What are you doing here?!"
The questions you are asking are completely irrelevant at this point in time. You've been asleep for several hours Ren, they've locked you up.
Ren? the man thought. Do you mean me? Is that my name, Laurence?
Yes.
He looked around. The walls were bolted with metal plates and in front of him was an energy-like barrier blocking the opening. Yet he laid there, silent and whimpering.
And he stood up, clawed at his head, and screamed out.
He beat his fists against the metal, screaming through every punch of his emaciated arms until they were bruised purple and blood ran between the knuckles. He wanted to tear himself apart. He wanted to tear every aspect of him apart until there was nothing left but indistinguishable pieces.
That was it. It was finally clear to him. He couldn't possibly exist without an answer, he needed answers. He needed them as much as a starving child needed food and water, he felt like an empty husk without them. He was completely empty without answers, all that mattered to him now would be answers, they were his lifeblood.
And the more and more he would be starved off right in front of them, then what would happen to him? Would he break like he did now? Would he die and shrivel like a mummified corpse? Whatever. That didn't matter, he needed them to survive.
No.
Wrong. Could anybody really call this living? Without answers, he wouldn't be any different than that mummified corpse, starved of food and drink, he wasn't living. He wouldn't be until he found what he needed. He wouldn't be until he found answers.
And it was driving him insane. He could hear the delusion of miles and miles and miles of questions flow into his head in ribbon, punched in like stables across his skull, seeping into his mind like poison.
Then he fell back to the floor. He was horrible, everything about him was horrible. He couldn't bring himself to think about his delusions, he could only writhe at how much horror they inflicted upon him. Yet no matter how hard he screamed into oblivion, how hard he beat his fist against the metal, that wouldn't answer any of his questions.
Escape your delusion, Ren. Think of other subjects rather than your delusion.
But he stood there, silent. Scrunched up against the corner, fingers digging into the back of his head.
Please, Ren. We have work to do an-
"AAAAAAHHHH!"
He screamed once again as he hurled himself against the energy wall, a burning sensation erupting across his entire body as he continued to claw at the lightning. Electricity struck him, sending him with stings and burns as his limbs grew numb, yet he didn't care. He tore and tore until he finally ripped through the energy, shrieking in agony as his singed body collapsed on the other side of the hallway.
He didn't want to think. He didn't want to think about what the voice in his head was, he didn't want to think about any of his delusions. He simply needed to stop if he wanted to keep himself intact. To bury them behind an iron vault and barricade any entrances.
He quietly snuck through the empty corridors, more empty prison cells were built into the walls as he crept by. Walking through the halls, he could feel his hope dwindling with each turn. Every turn awaited an exit or a sign, yet they only housed another hall and another and another.
He pushed through. Door to door, hall to hall, each room felt lower than the last as he began to question the endless spiral around him, covered in empty cells and empty rooms, dozens upon dozens of them passing by in a blur.
He began to track his movements, left, right, left, left, right, left, right… Yet they only made it even more confusing as his record escaped him. For what he believed could've been several minutes or even hours of running, he finally stopped in his path, upon a large, ornate door.
Maybe I should push this…
He gently pushed the plate into the door and it split into symmetrical pieces and slowly moved into the walls like a grindstone. A sudden wave of dust wafted out the room followed by fluttering wingbeats. Through the door frame, a massive room stood in his path. Several gilded pedestals sat scattered around the floor, each one holding a certain weapon or artifact.
A vault.
In the middle of the room stood a circular flight of stairs that ran up to three bigger pedestals, each holding a weapon with pride. One was a gray and blue bow covered with an ethereal purple aura, the second one was a huge red and green sword with a crescent moon edge, and the third was a shimmering blue crystal fixed into a gilt frame. He snuck closer to the crystal, it seemed to call for him.
Suddenly, the faint noise of shoes tapping on the ground caught his ear.
They're passing by. Quickly, take cover behind those plinths.
The man did what he was told and ducked behind the sword. Two figures opened the opposite door and walked through the vault while conversing loudly with each other.
"Can't believe the lord still wants that thing alive," The first figure said.
"How bad was the attack?." The second asked the first,
"From what I've heard…most of all the market area was flattened, and heavy damage to the cliffside too…prolly around twenty to thirty dead, several dozen injured,"
"Nothing that lethal should ever step ground over this kingdom."
The man could feel the dread commingle once again, raging in a course, rampant storm as his limbs began to twitch and strain.
This couldn't have been your fault, escape it…do not let it overwhelm you. The voice reminded him.
The two figures soon exited the door and headed toward the prison cells.
They've headed to guard the cells, and soon they'll notice you're gone.
The man pushed himself off the floor and fled for the back door. Behind the door were more spiraling mazes. Faces were carved in the orange brick walls, each one watching him as he snuck through the halls. Atop the unlit ceiling, he caught glimpses of more eyes looking down on him. The torches faded from regular orange flames to now flashing deep red. a siren rung in the background as the stampede of footsteps stormed forward.
They know you're gone, Ren. The voice said.
What do I do?
Run.
He bolted across the corridors, unaware of where he was going. He just had to stay away from them as much as possible. The footsteps and siren grew louder and louder. Half of the time he couldn't see anything with the flashing red lights. From the corner of his eye, he saw a figure at the start of the corridor catch him.
"HE'S HERE!" The figure shouted.
Before he could turn his head, a huge crowd of guards formed behind him. A vine caught against his shoes and almost tripped, but he managed to flee the cluster of guards they caught up. The hall slowly shrunk down in size until it led to an opening. The man soon realized he was running across a wooden rope bridge, and beneath him was an enormous hole. He glanced behind and the guards were still chasing him, but running at a slower pace. Suddenly, the boards he was standing on cracked. Before he could blink his eyes the entire bridge snapped in half as he fell down into the hole.