Bound with heavy chains, lengthy and crude, their gritty silver surfaces etched into his skin as a vice.
His expression was marred with waning sanity, bore into his gaze you would meet the demented shell of a man.
Crazed—feral—frivolous.
Meaningless, his reason choice was expedited with his lackluster life choices, it was all… CHAOS!
a laundry list of dirty deeds, each a futile endeavor to satisfy that never ending obscene obsession of purpose.
An illusive concept that he lacked, one that eluded him, as a phantom would before a holy man, or a vampire before the Sun – its kryptonite.
The bearer of this world's shitty life.
How had his life amounted to this, locked, bound by chains, imprisoned behind four impossibly thick walls of steel and concrete.
At the current moment escape was impossible.
'Fates a bitch,' he uttered helplessly within the silent dwelling of his mind.
***
His eyes glazed and glass like, mouth parched as a cat's, hair unkempt–knotted. The man's mouth was snapped shut by a steel clockwork muzzle, this was against this free will.
A muzzle—a thing for dogs and beasts…—was currently attired on his face.
It was humiliating! Downgrading. It was the equivalent of being shunned of his humanity!
The masculine stench of musk filled the small cell, piss pooled beneath him as well as waste.
The silence was deafening.
When was the last time he had seen the sun.
When was the last time he was enamored by its valiant rays, the hope of the dusk, the serenity of dawn? The only thing giving him a semblance of time was his own circadian rhythm.
But this was becoming an unhelpful means of time–tell.
This War of attrition was hell, was all of his effort worth, just that of mere fodder?
Was his existence only that to serve those of higher power.
It was a question he asked himself when his mind went idle. Whenever he felt his feeble sanity waning, that dim candle needed its stead fast fuel… rage and hate were the most potent of such fuels.
The man wanted to curse the world for his misgivings, the cards that fate had bestowed upon him the betrayal–the ainxst!
Clank! Clank
Step…step.
tap–tap
Jarring a sidaways glance, Rue glared at the sounds originating tract.
That impending steel door—it had always seemed to mock his forced accommodation. Thrown open, spamming into the cell's wall, from the newly opened entrance, a man strode forward with careless ambition, his silhouette gaunt, highlighted by the oversized black uniform he seemed to dress in an unaccording profitliteration. The gaunt man's expression was contorted into a twisted shit eating grin, he held this sadist like demeanor around him.
Not evil–malevolant.. Or other, he merely seemed overjoyed with a sadist-like thrill.
Stopping his stride before Rue, the man, in an exaggerated manner roz=se his leg, before snapping it forward towards the poor inquisitor's head.
—Thump
Clank! Clunch!—
With a nod the man smirked.
"Well if it isn't good o'l 794," The man hummed with a grin
In a sporadic motion, the man squatted, his arms rested along his inner thighs, his head tilted in an exaggerated way as he eyed the specimen before him "Or should I say inquisitor of the Sun goddess,"
With a mocking pat to the inquisitor's shoulder for several seconds, the man's eyes began to narrow.
"Trying to seem so calm, eh? kekekekeke! How FUCKING amusing," The man laughed with a sing-song voice
After several minutes of his hysterical laughter, the man spoke "I hope you mix well here. Imagine such a 'Nobel & altruistic' being as yourself mingling with the other shitty scum who fester in this hell hole, No, as you will," The man darky mumbled
From his oversized coat, the guant-man drew his firearm, with a stone expression filled with a new found resolve, the man paralleled the gun with his gate.
Gnashing his teeth the man thrust the weapon's barrel forward.
With the gun pressed against the captive's temple, the man bore his gaze into Rue's
"Because of you, fucker, I lost both of my daughters," the man's breathing reduced to nothing more than shallow bursts.
After his prolific utterance, he paused to catch his breath.
His eyes twirled with the nimble dance of rage, guilt, and something else, something more dire needey… INSATIABLE.
"Why Inquisitor WHY, does your shifty insignificant GOD demand such lustrous revelations? what would it even satiate!?" he exclaimed in a hollow tone
"WHY!"
"WHY!"
"WHY!"
"WHY! WHY! WHY! WHY!..." His voice was now hoarse and croaked—his gaze aimed towards the filth-covered linoleum floor.
"Fuck…" he mumbled. "Killing you is far too much of a luxury, no?" Raising his gaze forward, the man once more met Rue's eyes.
"I'm feeling selfish, so I'll humor myself, I can only wonder how much longer you can continue to waltz with that damn stewart expression."
With a final fruitless kick deliberately aimed towards Rue's nether region, the gaunt-man chuckled darkly before leaving.
Clenching his jaw, Rue stifled his groans of pain.
He wouldn't exhibit such emotion, not for their or anyone's pleasure and satisfaction.
Yet, even so, as a ruse, a warm searing pain erupted from his lower region, the sensation betrayed his stoic expression,
It was a dirty move, a cowardice undercut… but he deserved it nonetheless.
With an internal sigh, the man once more began to drown out his reality with his thoughts…
Aimless—disoriented—lethargic—he felt tired of it all. He was so bored and tired of it all.
This reality was shit. Dreams, lies, and hopes we indulge ourselves in, just to cope with our shitty past, present, and future.
Hours passed, and yet that silence rained supreme.
His vanity was iron-clutched, pride shattered.
He didn't know how long he had sat-shackled within that cell, isolated from society, people, sound.
His only solace were his own thoughts.
—Tutututututututu!
The world began to shake, the cell rumbled, those impossibly depthed walls began to warp in geometrically improbable ways,
'What the hell was going on?' Rue weakly remarked within his mind.
After several minutes of this apocalyptic rumble, the bone-raddling vibrations… they just stopped?
Snapping his head around the cell, he began to scout the already known schematics of his cage.
It seemed as it always had, but something otherwise negligible differed.
That annoying puddle of piss, which had collected under him was gone?
Actually…
When Rue thought about it, the chains that bound him felt brittle and old?
Raising his brow involuntarily to his subconscious, he opened his jaw.
Much to his surprise or disarray, the humiliating muzzle that had attired his face just collapsed and snapped apart. It was almost as if its tensile strength reached that of paper.
With his jaw freed from its chapter of forced stalemate, Rue smirked a shit-eating grin, his eyes filled with primal rage, his lengthened—matted gray hair added well to his feral appearance.
It held a curtain charm,
Rotating his jaw clockwise several times, as to alleviate tension, he finally spoke.
"Damn finally! HAHAHAHAHA kekekekekeke!" With a hearty laugh, he exclaimed his silent joy to his absent audience.
Those blasted chains which had restricted his freedom had now corroded…
Wait, what?
"How is this possible," he mused with a raised brow
Be it due to his previous palpable excitement, he ignored the fact that his chains—Be it due to some odd turn of events—-they had become flimsy and bridle. Yet now, with such excitement flushed from his system, he genuinely felt beguiled.
It made no sense?
But who cared!
He was free at long last.
Contracting his muscles, Rue's large, robust gait began to ripple - his muscles contorted and grew to disgustingly large quantities of flesh, and thus with sheer physical strength alone, he was able to shatter those feeble chains.
Bang!
Swoosh… ching—cling!
A hellish storm of shrapnel was sent airborne through the cell.
The concrete walls cracked and spiderwebbed with newly formed fissures, just from the impact, alone, caused by the shrapnel.
Lifting himself up, the inquisitor stretched his stiff, knotted mussels. That prolonged time of idle rest had taken its toll on his body, several appendages were atrophied—-facial hair length was annoyingly long, he reeked a scent semblantly of the impoverished in the slums.
If one looked past his figure, he wouldn't look any different from a common beggar.
With a confident stride, Rue faced that blasted door which had always patronised him from his freedom. He possessed a personal grudge with that damn door.
WIth a toothy grin, he narrowed his eyes.
Raising his fists to the sides of his chest, lunged forward, his center of mass was positioned correctly, and his movement was similar to that of a bull whose seen red.
"HAHAHAHA!" WIth a laugh he connected his fists with the once-seen impenetrable steel doors.
–BANG
The cell thundered with the powerful sounds of metal collapsing in itself and reverberation. As expected, the robust steel door elicited groans of strain for a mere second before it flew from its hinges.
The door flew through the air for several tens of feet before making contact with the ground.
Raising his brows in surprise, Rue scratched his chin in thought for several seconds,
"Eh?" Scrutinizing his handiwork, the inquisitor was plunged into a state of confusion for a second time. "Well… that was easier than expected." With a dismissive wave at further thought, he shrugged carelessly.
Shaking his head with a smug smirk, he brazenly strode out from his cell. Of course, he was keeping vigilance, but such efforts were a nuance to sincerely put forth effort to. This was especially so given he possessed inhumane levels of spacial awareness.
With paced steps, he walked out of this cell.
These were going to be his founding steps towards his coveted freedom!
As a wise man once said, a journey of a thousand miles begins with the first step.
Or that was the intended goal… but, what the hell was this?!
What met his view rather than the expected dull-gray labyrinth of corridors—intersections and cells, was actually a great plain of reddish-brown grass?
The landscape was scarce of vegetation or natural landmarks. Even more, the air itself felt dry and lacking in any moisture.
Scratching his head in confusion, the inquisitor attempted to feel his crippled Will-Emission…
Such attempts were futile, and here was the kicker: all of the alchemical restrictions which had embroidered his body were gone. They had turned to dust, oddly?
So, why was his Will-Emission impeded? He clearly felt that blasted eldritch energy within him —such was evident from his ability to mass control his mussels. Yet, for some reason, an enmity of a reason, he lacked control over his very essence. It was oxymoronic—no, even more, it made no SENSE!
Will was the very essence of someone's desires, the stabilizing principle which set one's path adrift. Will was the quintessential mastery of one's journey to sovereign strength or simple goal.
With WIll,the human body was a catalyst which acted as a passage for one's initial to be released—and yet THIS MADE NO SENSE!
Cusping a fistful of his hair, the poor inquisitor began to tug at his scalp in a pitiful display, he was trying to reconcile with this situation by distracting himself with pain.
Flanking his body, Rue frantically went to set his gaze upon his cell, the massive structure was still there, but the entirety of the exterior structure was crumbled, the steel had melted into an amalgamation of liquid and scrap—those four walls which had bounded his view of the world, the sun-
'The sun!'
Wherever then or now or then, he desired to see the sun.
The patron sigle of his god.
Resting on one knee, Rue poised his gaze downward. With his arm rested on his knee, the inquisitor recited a prayer:
"~Oh, so great symbol of life, please cast thy ear for this significant mortals pleas.~" He began
"~From dusk to set, you shine valiantly-"
Pausing his recitation of the third volume of Shang's quelling, he contorted his features into rage and confusion.
"Where the hell is my connection?" He growled in a dark tone.
Rushing his gaze to the sky, he searched for the sun—his god, the entity which had granted him the ability to forge his initial and begin his crusade of power, the being he swore loyalty to!
Finally meeting the blinding valiance, the inquisitor frowned and gnashed his teeth into dust.