Heresy: The Book of Mammon

Chapter 20

Chapter 20



Days melted together into a grueling and agonizing flow. Time was lost within the dark corridors of the Fleshworks, and had been ages since Valimaar found restful sleep. Darkness flowed within him more than he’d ever felt. With each moment, it wormed its way deeper into his thoughts and soul. He held his ground against the never ending onslaught, but he was losing his footing. With each breath, he felt the shards of his shattered spirit blown away in the storm of agony.

There was little he could do against it all. He held nothing against Nyx’s attacks. His weapons were gone, and his abilities as a warrior were little more than a forgotten dream. He was helpless.

He lay upon the cold, oozing floor in the darkness of his cell. The walls of flesh swelled ever further upon him, and its hands and eyes were reaching for him. The presence within continuously bombarded him. What she did not do to his body, she damaged his spirit. Pain was little more than a word that described cuts and scrapes. This was much more than that. He’d lost himself in its shroud of terror. His limbs throbbed, and his stomach felt as though it would burst. A fire burned beneath his flesh, and scorched his body as he lay within the darkness.

The visions of Lady Elaine faded to nothing with each passing day. Beneath the darkness of his eyelids, he saw little more than the waking nightmare that he found himself held captive. He could not remember how long he’d been there or when the pain no longer mattered to him. It had grown to a cold numbness that tingled in his limbs and fingers. Her torment no longer attacked his body. She took more diabolic methods to break his sanity, and ever so slowly, he felt its frayed ends crumble in her grasp. Nyx tore at the fibers that bound his spirit to his body, and he dangled by little more than a thread.
He could do nothing against it all. He watched as Ithaca’s dark fingers slowly tightened around him. Each day he fell further into madness and decay.

The shadows molded and twisted before him as he lay within the scarlet pool of his blood. His vision failed him in the growing darkness, and his eyes saw things that weren’t there. They whispered to him. They taunted him. He was destined to live out his last moments in their torment.

Your spirit is immortal. The body is but a manifestation that reminds you that you exist at all. You will feel pain Expurgator. But remember that flesh can be healed. All the swords, bullets, and claws on this earth cannot harm your spirit. Remember that just as your spirit is immortal, so are you. Your body will die but your spirit will remain. Never forget, that through our sacrifices, we protect our immortality. Never allow your spirit to succumb to the darkness.

The lessons he’d learned in his past meant little to him anymore. Though they pulled him back from the void on many occasions, they no longer pushed him through his dark dreams. His spirit was but a puppet for the horrors that claimed the earth, and what remained of it, slipped from his grasp.

He struggled to sit upright as his arms pushed his body from the cold floor. He gritted his teeth as he gathered what strength still remained in him. He looked down at the rusty steel plate that sat upon the floor. Bloody, raw meat called to him. His stomach was empty, but he could barely force himself to put it to his lips. He would not allow himself to die in such fashion. If he were to face death, he would do it with a full stomach, and with a dagger in Nyx’s heart.
Blood squirted as he chewed on the raw flesh. He struggled to swallow, but he did. He felt himself gagging on its cold, moist feel as it slid down his throat. He choked on the blood, but he forced himself to bite another piece.

The angel will break us, Valimaar.

Angel? Nyx was an Angel? What terrible device of fate would place him in the grasp of such a wicked thing? It couldn’t be true. Angels didn’t exist.

She holds my seal. We have no power against her.

The seal of Ithaca? Regardless if she held it or not, what could they do against such strength? He was helpless. He bit into the cold meat and forced it down. Could the seal be his salvation? If she did keep it, where was it hidden? Surely, it wasn’t on her person, for she wore little more than the cold air upon her flesh.

The Scarlet Ones are reclaiming the earth.

“Be silent.” His voice pushed through his sore throat, and he choked on its abrasive burn.

He grew weary of its whispers. Each day, Ithaca called to him ever more. He could not silence the Daemon within him. It haunted his thoughts and visions. His thoughts focused on what he remembered of the disc that Father Papal had brought to him so long ago. He remembered its curious shine, and the inscriptions cast deep within its beauty.

If Ithaca’s seal was similar, he would recognize it. If he could take it, would he be free of this hell?

He looked through the shifting darkness as footsteps echoed through the corridor. The wrinkled flesh dangled from their limbs. Ghasts. They drug the woman across the floor as they walked. A trail of blood followed behind, and painted the floor in crimson.

He struggled to focus his eyes as they poured her into the cell across from him. Blood ran down the length of her legs from her crotch, and he knew, something had done unimaginable things to her. Bruises darkened her pale skin and circled her wrists and ankles. She lay unconscious on the floor. Her breaths were little more than puffs. She barely clung to life. Her long, golden hair covered her face and breasts. Festering cuts tore across her chest and abdomen. Whoever she was, her body had seen a fate worse than his.

Tragedy lurked ever more in the confines of this terrible place, and it had found another victim. His breaths were heavy as he looked upon her naked body. It was a terrible thing to see.

Heavier footsteps boomed through the hushed whispers in his ears, and the shadow of a giant man lumbered in the darkness. He felt waft from him as he came close to the cells, and the darkness within him swelled.

Astaroth!

What was this thing? Another angel? It stood in the darkness, ignoring his eyes as it looked upon the naked woman that curled upon the floor. Wheezing breaths cut through the silence.

The collector of bones lives on.

It was a particularly gruesome title. Whatever this thing was that stood before him, he felt his bones shake beneath his muscles. The eyes within the walls looked away from the beast, and the hands did little more than lay flat upon the walls and floor as it stood. It turned to his cell, and he felt cold from within. Its wheezing breaths blew upon his skin, and his flesh froze.

Astaroth cannot be allowed to live, Valimaar. His life taints the earth.

Shadows molded and twisted together in the corner. He watched the darkness manifest into a figure that sat in the corner. It had no face but he could feel its gaze upon him.

The Daemons did not intend for this to happen, Valimaar. We are not the ones to blame.

The whispers would not stop. He held his hands to his ears, but still he heard them.

This is far greater than Azaal, or the Scarlet ones. There are powers beyond our control. They are claiming the world for themselves, as they tried long ago. We cannot let this happen, Valimaar. You must give your spirit to me! We can overcome the angels.

Darkness poured through his blood as he sat. Why would it not let him be? What did it want with his spirit? What could it possibly do? He’d seen what Ithaca was capable of without his aid, why then would it ask for it now?

More footsteps echoed through the darkness, and he focused his eyes on the bishop that entered the corridor.

“Hello Ithaca.” Father Atramedes smiled at him. “I trust you are enjoying your new home?” His words were taunting. If only the bars weren’t there.

“The pain will end if you help us.”

Valimaar shook his head. “What do you want from me?” It hurt to speak.

“We only wish to know where the Book of the Scion is.” He turned to the woman that lay behind the bars.

What was the Book of the Scion? He’d never heard of it.

“I don’t know what that is.” Cold pain coursed through him as he spoke.

“Ithaca knows what it is. He knows where it’s hidden.”

It lies beneath the sands of time.

“Embrace the Daemon within you, Valimaar. Give it your spirit.” He exhaled a long, heavy breath and turned to him once more. “The sooner you do, the sooner the pain will end.”

He would die before he surrendered his spirit to it. It wanted his soul. Every day, it spoke darkness into his mind, but he would resist. He had to resist. He would see Lady Elaine again.

He pushed himself back into the shadows of his cell. “I grow tired of your persistence bishop. My patience is wearing thin.” He forced himself to speak with fire. Pain shot through his chest as the words came, but he knew there was nothing he could do but endure.

Atramedes shook his head. “Then your pain will continue.” He pointed the unconscious woman behind him. “And so will hers.” He nodded to the beast that stood by him.

Astaroth turned to the woman and opened the door to the cell. He drug her limp body into the shadowy corners, and the sounds echoed through the darkness. He was helpless. He could do nothing but listen to the beast rape her. It groaned and roared in the silence. The sounds poked and prodded at his soul as he struggled to force it out of his mind. Darkness swirled about him, and he sat alone in its black in a sea of misery. He clasped his hands tight to his ears and shut his eyes to the terror. He could see the woman in his mind. Visions of the beast loomed over her naked body. He could not force the thoughts out of his head. They haunted him as the sounds of her torment tore through his body.

Guilt ripped at his soul and his limbs went numb once more. The storm clouds of insanity rained down upon him, and pulled him ever further into the descent. He couldn’t resist much longer, but he had to. This woman suffered for his persistence, but he could do nothing. Whatever good forces remained in the world, would never forgive him for his sins, and his crimes were little more than his inability to stop it all. The world spun out of control and darkness clouded his mind.

How long could this all go on? How long could he force himself to survive? The strength in his soul grew weaker. With each whimper from the woman, he felt his body decay. With each echo of the beast’s groans, his sanity fractured into shattered shards. He was alone in the dark.

Soft, agonizing moans echoed through the corridor to the beat of Atramedes’ footsteps. What could he do to end this? He would not allow his spirit to succumb to the darkness, but the innocent suffered for him. The cruelty would punish him as long as he resisted. He could only hope that her misery would end.

They will never stop.

***************
The terrors continued for as long as Valimaar could listen. Hours past that felt like days, and echoes of her torment haunted his thoughts. Astaroth showed her no mercy as he reigned over her innocence. She had since regained her consciousness as the terrors reached their end.

Her sobs whispered in the silence of the dark corridors, and her pain rested upon his shoulders. The beast left her in the darkness of her cell and left her with little more than scarred, dark memories. The same memories marred his soul as he shut his eyes and ears to it all.

We can stop this, Valimaar.

He no longer cared to listen. His ears rang with violence as he sat in the corner of his cell. His stomach ached from the slop he’d forced down his throat and his mouth thirsted for water. He forced himself to swallow back his sorrow. He hadn’t felt warmth in days, or weeks for all he knew. Time had been stolen away from him in bowels of the earth, and what remained was a seamless waking nightmare.

Sniffles echoed upon the dark, fleshy walls and he forced them from his ears. Visions of the poor woman haunted his thoughts as he sat, but heat surged through him. His rage warded away the biting cold. The dark creations of Ecclesia had claimed much in their wake, and forced their evils upon the two of them there in the mouth of the world, but he drove the evils away. He felt an awakening within him as whispers of her weeping filled the quiet darkness.

Together we can put an end to this madness. You have but to ask.

He ignored the whispers of Ithaca. They no longer mattered. Nothing mattered but vengeance. Lady Elaine’s eyes fell upon his thoughts and her memory fueled his anger. They drove them apart. They pulled him away from her. He’d done everything to protect her, but he failed in giving her the love she’d asked for. He left her behind to pursue his redemption. He’d used her as an excuse to shield his guilt. He would not do so again. He would be free of this place, and the monstrosities of the world would answer for their crimes.

“I will not let them hurt you again.” The pain surged through his throat as he spoke, but he no longer cared to give it notice.

The sobbing stopped. “What can you do to stop them?” Her voice shook as she spoke.

“I will kill them. I don’t care what they are, or what strength they have, but I will kill them.”

He saw her shadow shift behind the steel bars. Her face poked through the darkness, and her eyes rested between the bars of her cell. “You can’t do anything that will stop this. We’re here for the rest of our lives you and I.” She wiped the tears from her eyes.

She was beautiful. Her eyes had the same strength as Lady Elaine’s.

“They can’t hurt me any more than they have.”

“What are you going to do behind those bars? Spit on them?”

He nodded. “You’ll see. That beast will not harm you again.”

He didn’t know what he would do, but the he’d seen enough of the terrors beneath the earth. They would come for him again. Nyx would torture him once more, but he would feel no more pain. They would not stop until they broke him, but he no longer felt their terrors. He no longer heard their whispers. Soon, he would have his chance. They would come, and they would breathe their last breaths.

He sat in the darkness, and fed on the horrors they delivered upon him. He no longer shunned the darkness in his soul, but held it in his grasp. He would not allow his spirit to be taken, but the beast that dwelled within him would unleash its power. He would see to it. Regardless if he was punished for it in the afterlife, he would not allow this madness to continue. His life no longer mattered. The lives of others were the only things that he held dear, and soon, he would fight for them. Just as he told Lady Elaine to never stop, he would do the same. He would fight until he breathed his last breath. He would fight until either he, or his enemies lay dead upon the cold earth.

Perhaps his soul would suffer for his choices, but he didn’t care. This was greater than him. His sacrifice would ensure the safety of others, and that held more value than anything else.