Braedon moved slowly, his footsteps barely disturbing the silence as he approached the prison. The heavy iron chains already prepared; one coiled snugly around his shoulders seemingly anxious to strike out. His gaze focused as he judged the building in front of him. His mind taking stock of the building in front of him, he could do nothing but trust that Alice and Rebecca would handle their assigned tasks without issues.
Two guards stood in front of a heavy-set door in a far too relaxed manner not having noticed him, swiftly his chain's lashed out, a blur of dark metal in the dim light quickly wrapping tightly around their throats causing them to let out strangled gaps, dropping their weapons as they clawed at the chains. He moved with brutal efficiency, the chains constricting with impeccable speed before a sickening crack echoed in the night as both men fell limply to the floor. He retracted his chain as he walked over to their still forms, his expression unreadable before checked their bodies and retrieving a set of heavy iron keys from one of their belts.
Finding the correct key was a swift process as the heavy iron door opened with a grinding protest. As soon as the door was opened an overwhelming stench hit him, a putrid wave of human waste, decay and desperation so potent it forced him to take a few steps back and almost throwing up before he forced himself forward. His eyes widened both from the sting of the invisible assault and what he saw inside under the light from a few distant torches that barely pierced the oppressive darkness within.
To his left behind a line of solid bars where shadowy forms. Young women, some clad in tattered rags well others where shamefully naked, all of them huddled within their confines. A few glanced up at him, their eyes briefly meeting his before flickering back down well others held a chilling resignation as they looked at him, a profound defeat that spoke of broken wills and shattered spirits. Yet, a handful met his gaze with an unwavering intensity, their eyes burning with a raw defiance and a desperate, spark refusing to be extinguished as they burnt with anger. To his right, men of various ages seemed to be in cages opposed to the open prison style the women had. The youngest appeared to be in his late teens, while the oldest was a bald old man whose face was a roadmap of wrinkles, his skin like worn leather. Many of them though bore visible injuries ranging from broken or missing limbs, a testament to struggles, attempted escapes or cruel punishment well others had lashes and cuts, some festering or clearly infected. The air itself seemed heavy with their suffering.
The room itself proved to be no better than its captives, a testament to neglect. Filth coated every surface; he managed to see foul-smelling puddles and congealed masses of waste in the back of the women's side along with the same existing underneath the men's lines of cages. His gaze was drawn to the corner where a macabre pile of what appeared to be several dead bodies lay half-obscured by shadow yet still visible, a stark reminder of the fate awaiting the imprisoned.
His presence was finally registered as more people noticed him and realized his outfit was different than those of their captives causing a wave of agitated movement that rippled through the captives. A cacophony of whispers slowly grew into screeches, obscenities and desperate pleas for release, each voice clawing to be heard above the others as they built into a deafening clamor.
"BE QUIET!" Braedon finally roared, his voice cutting through the noise as he attempted to command silence, but the desperate cries only intensified instead, seemingly fueled by a sudden hope. With a growl of pure frustration, Braedon's voice dropped to a truly menacing register. "I SAID BE QUIET, OR I WON'T LET ANY OF YOU OUT AND WILL JUST KILL YOU ALL INSTEAD!" His tone was laced with anger this time, each word a venomous threat he wouldn't act on but needed to make them believe was a possibility. He raised his scythe, its polished blade catching the faint light in an attempt to punctuate his warning. The chains around him, sensing his fury slowly began to rattle menacingly like a nest of disturbed vipers ready to strike.
Finally a stunned silence descended. Most fell quiet, staring at him with wide, fearful eyes. A few however, continued to keen and thrash, their desperate cries like those of cornered animals as there desperation won over there fear but even they soon quieted, their terror palpable as they tried to force themselves as far to the back of their cages as possible, attempting to shrink into invisibility, there reaction making him sigh.
"Sigh. The boss of this place is right behind me now, aren't they? Well either the boss or someone who tortured you into submission, but with my luck it's probably the boss, since that is how it seems like everything is going to be going lately." Braedon muttered, a weariness creeping into his voice as he slowly turned and took stock of the figure standing directly behind him. Their green eyes gleamed with an amused glint seemingly enjoying his reaction.
Her figure was modest but striking: long, athletic legs encased in form-fitting shorts, open-toed slip-on shoes a smooth, toned stomach adorned with a subtle belly stud. A sleeveless tank top hugged her modest bust and her face was soft and almost delicate, with features that could easily belong to a model. Yet, all of that was shattered by the object sticking into the grimy ground in front of her, only able to be called a mockery of a sword in the barest of ways. It was impossibly tall, its hilt curving around her hands like a pair of brutal knuckle dusters as she held it upright. The blade itself was a nightmare of twisted metal, seemingly forged from countless other blades all fused together into one with a line of sharp teeth creating its jagged edge. A deep and unsettling red glinted along its length and darker, almost black spots were faintly visible and unmistakably dried blood.
"So, you're the big boss called Blade? No offense, but I didn't expect it to be a young woman, or look as you do if I were to be honest." Braedon stated, genuine confusion and surprise lacing his voice and expression. He braced himself, assessing the unnatural weapon and the woman's unsettling calm.
A thunderous laugh erupted from her, echoing through the grim chamber. "Hahaha, oh gods, that's your reaction?!? I mean, I'm glad you recognize me as the boss here but I expected more of a 'who are you' or 'how can you do this to other people' or anything along those lines like the usual crap I get. Hell, even a bit of fear would be a good response! Instead, you're calm and just taking it all in stride and instead by me being a woman; I like that but jeez I really haven't laughed so hard in a long time." She wiped a tear of mirth from her eye as a wide, predatory grin stretched across her face. She was clearly relishing her role as the cat in this unfolding game of cat and mouse. he knew instinctively that he had to be exceedingly careful here, knowing nothing of her capabilities or that grotesque sword radiated a deeply troubling aura. The confined space of the prison room was also a significant disadvantage limiting his actions and reactions, while he held little regard for potential casualties among the prisoners in a battle, he was acutely worried about being trapped or being hampered by them.
"Aww, what's wrong? Cat got your tongue? Well, let's not waste so much time then. You have some big brass balls to break into my place like this and then try to fuck with my merchandise. But that's what's really got me interested so tell me, what are you here for and did you come alone? Oooh also what part of you would you like me to cut off first as reparations? I will say it's a pity though, if you were a pretty boy, I'd probably leave you intact and keep you as a pet for a few days, I really love seeing how far I can bend them till they break." She said, her tone practically swooning as a a wide perverse look crossed her face before regarding him once more with a bit of disgust "But instead you're a tubby. Sigh, how unfortunate. But maybe I can cut some of that fat off you and see how much I can take before you end up dying." Her words dripped with taunting malice, each punctuated by her slowly lifting the monstrous blade from the ground and pointing it at him. Her grin widening in an attempt to strike fear into him. His mind began to race, desperate to find an opening, a way out of this enclosed space, a strategy or plan he could make and use to get out of this situation. If he could just get out to the open courtyard, near the bonfire, he would have far more room to maneuver, to dodge and perhaps to signal Alice and Rebecca, he knew he would have light to see better and might even manage to use it to his advantage against her somehow.
"I got lost. I was wandering around and saw this camp but There was no one outside so I just… wandered in. Then when I saw this room, I got curious. I didn't know the place was owned by anyone, if I did, I would have spoken to you first and found out the rules." he lied smoothly, his voice betraying no hint of the desperation churning within. He needed to buy time, either to formulate an escape plan or for Alice to somehow intervene, though he knew the chances of the second happening were slim to none. Even with the strongest plot armor, this would be pushing its limits.
"Uhuh, do you really think I'd believe that? I was watching you know and with how you spoke to the merchandise it's clear you came for them with some kind of plan in mind for if I wasn't here. Tsk tsk, how naughty of you to lie. I guess I'll need to make you a quadriplegic as punishment and then get my answers from your wriggling worm body." Her tone was one of fake sadness before a chilling giggle escaped her. She rushed forward with terrifying speed, her sword swinging in a wide, horizontal arc. He reacted instantly, using the chains to force his armed left arm to block, the chains wrapping to absorb some of the impact yet still forcing him back well jumped back lightly, a calculated risk causing him to smash into a few cages and their terrified occupants before driving them straight into the damp stone wall behind. A few of the chain links that had absorbed the blow shattered violently but he still managed to avoid most of the blow. He spat out a mouthful of blood, a bitter taste in his mouth, knowing the strike had done a lot damage well also aggravating his older injuries that were still trying to heal.
"You're not dead yet? Good. I can't have my new toy break so easily." Blade asked in a sing-song tone, clearly not having exerted her full strength, but rather toying with him before slowly advancing towards him, savoring his pain. He forced himself up from the groaning, crumpled bodies of the prisoners he had landed on well glaring at her, his vision momentarily blurred.
"That was really one hell of a blow. I don't suppose you would accept my surrender?" he asked, wiping the remnants of blood from his lips, his mind working furiously to find a way out of this room, to disable her or to take her out entirely. Desperately trying to plan out anything to survive.
"Hmm, nope! I think I'd rather hurt you much more and then get my answers out of your meatball body," she replied, her smile practically feral causing him to sigh heavily, a sound of profound frustration before he tilted his head slightly, as if listening intently to an unheard voice.
"Just, don't go overboard or too far. I'm only allowing it because we have no other choice." he whispered softly, his annoyance palpable. "No, I don't care what you do as long as you don't harm John's body or make trouble for him. No, I'm not trying to limit you its due to knowing how you can get that I'm trying to limit the damage you may do. Hmm? Fine, but again if you do make changes make sure there won't be any backlash or problems for him okay?" his gaze kept flicking to an unseen point just beyond Blade.
"Aww, are you going crazy from just one hit? Or are you talking to some friends around here? Tell them to come out and I'll maybe end them a little less painfully than I will you. But if you are going crazy though I guess I'll just have to beat you right again," she taunted, looking around the room well swinging her sword with a casual flick that sliced through a metal cage and the unfortunate person within it as she continued her slow, deliberate approach towards him.
"Before you continue to beat the shit out of me could you answer something?" Braedon said, his gaze fixed on the grim pile of bodies in the corner. "How many bodies are lying around in this room? I saw a few back there, but do you know how many there are? Or how many resentful spirits and the like are lingering from the pain they suffered?" Braedon asked, the words though barely a whisper carried an unsettling weight to them that hung in the air like a premonition. His gaze fixed onto her with unnerving intensity upon before they begun to deepen, the pupils expanding until they swallowed the surrounding iris, leaving behind twin abyssal voids of nothingness before his body began to shake slightly, nothing but a shudder at first but it slowly began to grow till his entire frame seemed to vibrate as his posture, once rigid seemed to buckle before he proceeded to fall forward as if some unseen force had abruptly severed his connection to the earth.
Just as his face seemed destined to meet the cold floor though a series of sharp, metallic shrieks pierced the silence. The chains began to snap taut with a sudden brutal force. Their sharpened tips plunged into the ground, embedding themselves deep enough to halt his collapse with a jarring thud leaving him suspended like a macabre puppet held upright by the chains. For a fleeting moment, a faint, internal light seemed to pulse through the chains before an unsettling transformation rippled across his form.
The intricate markings etched into his armor began to dull and blur, their edges softening into indistinct smudges of grey, at the same time as these changes began to take place the chains began a rapid and visible decay. Their metallic luster vanishing, being replaced by a pervasive, reddish-brown rust that seemed to bloom across their surface like a virulent, quick-growing fungus before most of these rusted links simply untangled themselves, dissolving into shimmering motes of light that drifted towards the final two, now substantially longer chains that remained, these final two appearing ancient, scarred and impossibly strong. They snaked over his shoulders and cinched around his chest and arm as he straightened up.
The changes didn't stop though but rather rapidly continued instead. The left gauntlet, previously a canvas of abstract patterns, shifted and reformed with a sickening undulation under the chain as it became a grotesque tapestry of bone, meticulously depicting a vast, spectral forest where every "tree" was a towering femur, every "branch" a gnarled, intertwining rib. From these skeletal limb's ropes hung, thick and frayed creating a perfectly tied and soul chilling noose. The image was rendered with such unsettling realism and detail that one could almost feel the cold and dry air of that desolate grove along with the whispers of the empty ropes swaying in an unseen breeze.
The right gauntlet, in another stark contrast had transformed into a swirling tableau of pure nightmare, stitched-together abominations writhed, their incongruous limbs and mismatched features rendered with horrifying detail matched by the left. Their forms seemed to pulse with a sickly vitality, a testament to unholy creation that seemed to change slightly between blinks. Beside them, many skeletal beings who where a ghastly fusion of human and beast with empty eye sockets seemed to follow whoever looked at them. His right armor, once black and blue deepened into an earthy brown so profound and absolute that it teetered on the brink of absolute black. Yet his right arms armor, covered with the skeletal beings and horrible abominations created a strangely beautiful contrast against the earthen backdrop.
Finally, the cloak that draped across his shoulders, its fabric previously dark but unadorned began to shift much like it had before with the armor, the material around his neck and shoulders slowly gathered and reformed as it coalesced into a deep, heavy hood that fell in a slow and deliberate cascade over his head and face completely obscuring his features, casting his gaze and identity into an impenetrable shadow. His question, if it still lingered, was now a distant echo drowned out by a chilling silence brought about by this drastic change, even Blade was unsure on how to react to this change, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end as the feeling of death seemed to grip her.