Chapter 16: 16. Cell 3333, Or Mr. Scarred-Face WILL get his dose of violence
Diamanes let out a low whistle as he appraised Glenn's body. The young man was covered in multiple wounds, blood seeping slowly from his legs, arms, and head. His nose was broken, his lips mashed together, and his teeth were all half-broken. He bore a look worse than any person he had ever seen. Where before he looked pretty handsome, he would now scare any child who would see him.
"Damn, they really did a number on you. How much of this filth did you swallow?"
Glenn responded with a feeble shake of his head, his memory clouded. It could have been as few as ten times or as many as a hundred. His captivity was mostly spent with him wondering if what was happening was a nightmare or the actual reality. The line between those two distinct things had never been so blurred than during his time here.
"What... What is it?" He managed to say, his mouth in pain from moving.
Diamanes clicked his tongue, a hint of confusion in the contortion of his mouth.
"Well, It's monster blood—beast blood, to be precise. It can fulfill the necessities a human's body needs to survive, with a certain chance of killing you. And I can assure you that with how much you drank, you should be dead right now, or at least not human anymore. Maybe it's thanks to me...?"
Diamanes sported a self-satisfied grin, though even he seemed unsure about his hypothesis. Glenn's thoughts raced as he processed this new information. He had suspected it was blood, but learning it came from unknown creatures only made the idea more repulsive. What effects would it have on him? He thought back to the blood he had been sprayed with before, imagining himself drinking from the veins of the corpse-eating monster or Father Albenas, only retching in disgust.
What in hell were the objectives of these people? Why would they lock him up and force him to consume this horrible thing? With Diamanes offering him some semblance of mental support, Glenn felt his cognitive faculties return slightly. Beast blood...
"What was, cough... What was I supposed to become exactly?" He asked, a little uneasy while waiting for the answer.
"I can't tell precisely, but it should be an evil version of a human mutated with the powers of the monster he drank the blood from. Big powers, very little brain. Be grateful you didn't end up like that." Diamanes chuckled gloomily. His host's survival didn't make any sense, but he certainly wasn't going to be the one complaining about it.
Glenn lowered his head, lost in thoughts. He realized that he probably wasn't alone in this prison and that the chances of unfortunate souls being tortured similarly to him being here weren't low. For what sinister purpose did the organization that captured him create these abominations?
Why? For what goal?
He'll have to figure that out later, as the priority was getting out of this hell. Diamanes seemed to be back on track again, his tongue stuck out in a sign of deep concentration.
"Just... Give me a minute."
Glenn felt something weird in his body as if his blood was boiling in his veins. It started slowly, but the more it progressed, the more painful it was. It was different from the throbs he had each time he ingested it since he could feel things getting out of his body. He was not used to screaming anymore either, which could be seen as something positive in this situation; thanks to that, he could take the pain without peeping a word.
He felt something viscous and heavy flowing down his body. It was painfully hot, but Glenn enjoyed that, as he hadn't felt that sensation in a while. The liquid got pulled toward his purple hand and then dripped out on the ground, mixing itself with the filth and disappearing among it. The process kept going on for a good hour, making the young man feel like his body was getting reconstructed piece by piece as the Beast's blood left his body.
Finally, the flow of blood stopped, alongside the pain. Glenn sighed in relief, his mind clear of any fog. The torpor that had taken over his body during his imprisonment was completely gone, leaving him able to think efficiently. He moved his limbs slowly, surprised when he discovered that it was as easy as breathing for him, even with the heavy restraints on his wrists. His body felt light, so light he was pretty sure he could fly if he wanted. He stood up to the limit of the chains, completely unbothered by his chains' weight.
"And… Done! I've purified all of the beast blood in your body, expelling all the filth and keeping only the benefits!" Diamanes cackled, quite proud of his work, "And among those you get your body completely reconstructed! You look even better than before your torture! Maybe it was a lucky event in the end...?"
Glenn threw a deathly gaze at his left hand, not joking with how much he hated that place. Even for the hottest face, he wouldn't have gone in this hole if he had a choice.
"Cough, cough… Is that why I feel stronger?" He opened and closed his fist, feeling a strange surge of energy through them. Everything felt foreign and new, and he took a while to get used to his body's capabilities. He'll have to explore it further in the future if he gets the chance.
"Indeed. It likely enhanced your physique and senses to a superhuman degree." Diamanes explained, the tone in his voice being weirdly satisfied. If Glenn had to guess the creature's thought, it would probably be something along the lines of "Ah! My host finally has a body worth me!".
Given his circumstances, Glenn would just take any positive things he could. He tried to pull on the chains, but they were solidly embedded in the wall. He didn't try much harder, but he felt the chain giving in slightly. The young man quickly understood that he would be able to free himself whenever he needed. Which, in truth, meant that he would do exactly that once Mr. Scarred-Face shows up to see him for his daily dose of violence. Only, it wasn't going to be Glenn receiving the beating this time.
He was about to do so when he remembered that this was probably the most quiet prison in the world. If he made noises, every jailor would be alerted. He had to find a way to do it while being silent.
Diamanes' voice interjected, laced with smugness.
"I have a solution for that, you know."
"What... What do you mean?"
Diamanes took a deep breath, trying to find the right words.
"Let's put it in simple terms. I am a Hand. I can take and give things."
Glenn glanced at his hand, perplexed. Diamanes sighed, realizing his ideas were too advanced for Glenn's comprehension.
"Just place me on the chains."
Complying, Glenn placed his hand on the chain, feeling an energy drain from his body through his left hand. It cost him stamina, but he sensed a change. As he tugged the chain, silence replaced the usual clatter. Recalling the "Silence" curse from earlier, Glenn grasped Diamanes's capabilities.
Using his newfound strength, Glenn wrenched the chain free from the wall with his left hand. This surge in power would undoubtedly prove useful. But something bugged him.
"Why the hell did you never tell me about that?" He exclaimed, his voice finally back to its normal state.
"Because you never asked?" The hand responded instantly, clearly expecting the question. It also didn't seem like he was going to explain anything else, so Glenn let it go for now.
Having freed his left hand, he tried pulling the chain holding his right hand, but that one was still making noises.
"Can you do your thing again?"
Diamanes made an awkward expression with his mouth, a hint of shame on his lips.
"Well, not really... You know, I take and I give; I can't just take one and give infinitely."
"So you can't use the Silence curse again?"
"Unless I take it again, no. It's a one-time use."
Glenn sighed. What would he do with only one hand free? He didn't have the chance to think of it further, as the jailer approached, the flickering light of a candle illuminating little by little the outside of the cell.
Putting himself in front of the broken chain, he hurriedly lay upon it, trying his best to hide the fact that he was free from one of the restraints.
The heavy metal door opened, and Mr. Scarred-Face entered the cell with the usual candle in one hand and a bottle in the other. Glenn could see everything clearly, his eyes having gained some kind of night vision propriety. It was useless in the complete dark, but if he even had the slightest light, he would see much better than anyone else. Which meant that he could perfectly see the face under the hood, the man's black eyes, alongside the few hairs that weren't shaved on his chin.
The prisoner tried his best to look the same as before, with the deception working and his jailor getting close to him like usual. Mr. Scarred-Face crouched in front of Glenn and placed the candle down, grabbing his prisoner's mouth to open it to make him drink the beast's blood once again.
Mr. Scarred-Face, who was about to pour down the liquid, then noticed something different. The eyes of his prisoner, previously vitreous and empty, were once again filled with a desire to live as if it were his first day being imprisoned. His face was also...strangely handsome. But...he had made sure to destroy this face, though? Why is it even better looking than before?
A second later, Glenn's free fist slammed directly into his jaw. A cracking sound echoed, a few teeth flew out in the air, and the jailer fell unconscious, completely knocked out. Blood began to flow from his mouth, mixing itself with the dirty floor.
Glenn first looked at his fist, bewildered by the strength he now owned, then pilfered through Mr.Scarred-Face's pockets. He found a set of keys and tried to find a keyhole for the restraints on his legs and right hand, only to find out that there were none.
"Did they weld my restraints? How is that even possible?" He said, frowning.
"Magic, bro. Magic. Get used to it."
Diamanes' mocking voice surprised him, but it did manage to make him remember that once again he had to stop thinking with preconceived ideas and that he had to prepare himself for even the most insane things. Wasn't his situation already insane to begin with?
Seeing the body of the jailer move a little, Glenn hurriedly gave another hit on the back of his head, making sure that he wouldn't wake up anytime soon. Even if he tried to hit lightly, the kick had managed to open a wound on Mr. Scarred-Face's bald head.
"I hope he isn't dead." The young man commented, half-heartedly looking at the unconscious man.
"Chances are, he's gone for good. But why should that bother you?" Diamanes questioned, curious. With everything that the man did to his host, it would be understandable if Glenn wanted to drink wine from his skull and play football with his heart.
"I'd rather not become a murderer if I could," He simply answered, his voice void of any emotions. Even after saying that, his eyes couldn't leave the body, thoughts churning in his head.
"If that's your preference..."
Glenn looked at the chains on his right arm and tried to think of a way to get out of them without making a terrible noise. An idea then popped into his head.
Looking at his victim on the ground, he began to undress him, an enterprise a tad complicated with only one hand free. A disgusted noise escaped Diamanes' mouth.
"Alright, I get the revenge thing, but even for me, that's too much. I never thought you were this kind of person. You disgust me. I am deeply ashamed." The entity said, deeply judging the young man's actions.
"Shut up."
Ignoring the now naked body on the ground, he rolled the clothes around the chain, muffling the sound they were making. He pulled a few times, checking if his plan was working, before ripping the chain out of the wall. It made a bit of noise, but it was still silent enough to be mistaken for a random noise of the prison. That will have to do, anyway.
He repeated the process for the ankle chains, making him free to move once again. He couldn't get rid of the chains completely, having to move with them around his limbs, so he tried to wrap them wherever he could, so they wouldn't rattle against the ground and make an unwanted noise.
"Alright, that's one thing done." Glenn dusted his hands off, finally ready to head out of the cell. He turned toward the body on the ground, and hesitated a second, before shrugging, kicking the man in the leg, breaking it. That didn't manage to wake him up, though. Yep, good chance he was dead. He wasn't going to check nonetheless.
With his strengthened body, he understood that he wasn't a normal human anymore, that he was... something else. Something way stronger. Instead of feeling dejected about losing his "normality", Glenn could only be excited. Who has never dreamed of gaining superpowers?
And it was only the start. He was an Initiate now—a Mage! He just had to understand how to use magic to start having fun with it. The possibilities were endless!
A satisfied voice resounded, gloating.
"What did I tell you? You will gain powers you can't even imagine and stand at the very top. That's what I, Diamanes, promise you."
"Well, that's a nice dream, but before standing at the top, I might want to get out of this hole." Glenn sarcastically answered.
Diamanes grumbled something about ruining his effect, not continuing the discussion. Glenn tried to think about what he should do now. He walked toward the door, before hitting something with his feet. He looked down, only to find a sealed bottle rolling on the ground. A particularly devilish grin appeared on his face, as he bent his knees to pick up the bottle. He looked at his tormentor, then at the bottle, then back at his tormentor.
He crouched near the body on the ground, grabbed the jailer's mouth, and forced it open, emptying the bottle's contents down his throat. It would be too bad to waste it, right? And Glenn wasn't the kind of guy to waste things.
The pain didn't wait to appear, waking up the jailer. Only, this time it wasn't Glenn suffering. The "poor" jailer grabbed at his face with an expression of extreme suffering. It seemed that the pain was so grand he couldn't even manage to say a sound, his breath shut tight. Oh, no, it was just Glenn pressing down on his mouth with a piece of cloth, plugging any sound his victim could make.
"Quiet now."
It seemed like the idea of alarming his colleagues didn't even traverse Mr. Scarred-Face's mind. He was currently way too busy clawing at his throat, his eyes rolling and trembling unnaturally. Glenn, satisfied, gave a hit in the back of the jailer's face. The latter slipped into darkness for good this time, having replaced the previous occupant of the cell.
A whistle echoed in the cell.
"Your capacity for violence exceeds my expectations, given what I saw in your memories," The young man had always been a law-abiding citizen, never getting into a serious fight in his whole life. Seeing him torture his jailer, even if understandable, was quite surprising. Not shocking, just surprising.
Glenn shrugged indifferently. Any happiness he felt while making the jailer suffer was gone, replaced with determination to get out of this hell.
"I've returned what he gave me during my stay here. And he's alive, so it's fair."
Diamanes smiled, thinking silently that the man, even if he deserved it, got something way worse than death. Glenn stepped out of his cell, looking left and right. There were no other jailers in the surroundings, for as far as he could see. Which wasn't that much in the darkness, even with his enhanced night vision.
One of the chains wrapped around his leg fell, clanging loudly, soon followed by all the other chains. Glenn simply gave up. If just walking was enough to untie the chains, what would happen when he would run away? Trying to attach them was just a waste of time. They trailed from his limbs, making a sharp, metallic sound whenever he moved. He kneeled, trying to force open one of the shackles on his legs, to no avail.
"Don't bother, it's meant for monsters, after all, those restraints must be a bit special," informed him Diamanes.
'Strong enough to tear them from the wall but insufficient to rip them open. Good to know.' At least he got to check how strong he was exactly. Kind of. He went back on his steps, picking up the candle that miraculously hadn't died out. He stepped out once again, throwing one last look at the inside of the small cell with Mr. Scarred-Face "sleeping" in it.
He closed the door, discovering a number written on it.
3333
"Uh, how fun. Three is my lucky number." Glenn commented aloud, snickering, "How ironic, am I right?"
Diamanes, had he possessed the ability to raise an eyebrow, would undoubtedly have done so upon hearing that.
Glenn snickered, making sure the door was locked properly, before turning to the surroundings of the cell, his eyes searching for anything interesting through the darkness.
"Time to break out of this place."
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