by T Ariyanna
Cy lifted his arm, admiring the magic that raced within. Arion’s green lightning bounced off of the metal walls inside of him, keeping him alive. It was thin, and stuttering on its path, worrying him. I just have to stop using energy and it should recharge. If I sit here, it should be back to normal by morning, he told himself. He laid his head back on the wall, and closed his eyes. If he concentrated hard enough, he could feel the energy racing through him, hear the static as it gave him consciousness.
But the static was starting to fade. He forced himself to stop breathing, telling himself that it was wasted energy. Aches had set into his joints, and he wondered if he needed oil, or if the body simply wasn’t meant to last. Could it reject him? Could it deny his soul and kill him?
His mind whirred with every negative possibility, and he found himself breathing erratically. Were he human, he would have hyperventilated without even realizing. He clenched his fists at his sides, and stared at the ceiling. Arion knows what he’s doing. He would make sure it would work.
Though he reassured himself easily, a strong sense of dread had nestled in his chest, clinging to him like a leech.
As the sky grew it's darkest, Cy felt himself slipping. Gripped by panic, he did all he could to hold onto himself, but it only drained his energy more. The magic in him fluttered under his metal skin, and his consciousness faded in and out. He struggled to breath, to move, as the magic giving him life faltered in his chest. No! Arion wouldn’t let me die in this thing! Why isn’t it working, why isn’t the magic recharging?
He desperately ripped his chest plate open, and touched the heart within. The magic still hummed vigorously inside of it, sending a wave of calm throughout Cy.
It needs rest, like any other body. I’ve used too much in a short time, it’s shutting down. I’m not dying. Stupid demon, I just need to rest, to recharge the magic. I can't push it, not until we get the kid back.
Cy leaned back against the wall, propping himself up so he wouldn't fall. He hadn't had to rest in this body yet, because he hadn’t used it enough. Would it be like sleeping? Would he dream? Or would he just disappear for a while? It scared him that he didn't know, but he accepted there was no other way to find out. And he was far too tired to do anything else.
His sight flickered to darkness, and he no longer could feel himself. Still terrified of losing his new body, and losing Arion forever, he talked to himself as long as he could to force himself to stay awake.
Everything will be better once we get him back. I just have to keep my cool until then. I can do that.
Can't I?
Void
“Hey, you okay? Did they hurt you?” a small voice said.
The boy looked up to find the source, but his vision was blurred. All he could make out were a pair of large blue eyes staring at him.
The boy stared at her in disbelief, his jaw slack. She shook his shoulder lightly and giggled. “It's alright, you can tell me. What's your name?”
My name? He was unable to conceive of such a thing. Do I have a name? I don't think so. Is that a problem?
The boy opened his mouth, but he had no voice. The girl's eyes tilted, and they swam with worry. “Talk to me, please. Are you okay?”
He was shaken again, and the boy's vision went dark. Now where am I? Anywhere? Nowhere?
A hot pain sprouted from his middle and he stared down at the source. There was no sign of a weapon, but there was a large hole tearing through his pale skin. Thick, white blood poured onto his hands as he tried to hold himself together. It was sickeningly cold. He closed his eyes against the pain, doubling over.
Something sliced across his back. His eyes shot open with a cry.
The boy’s vision was filled with a creature he had quickly memorized. Pure black eyes watched him with cruelty, set back in a starved, angled face. It gnashed its razor-like teeth together. Thin arms had inflicted pain with an impossible strength, and black talons tipped the creature’s fingers, sharpened to a fine point. Its short, slender tail whipped behind it. It wore a simple beige robe, made of the same material as the boy’s own clothing. At first, the boy had thought the creature was sickly, but learned that the pale green skin was natural for this creature.
The boy turned away from the creature, examining his cell to wake him from his groggy state. The dull metal he knelt on had been stained white with his blood in the short time he’d been there. It ran in streaks down the sloped floor, leading to a small grate in the center. The bars of his cell cut through the dim light that inched towards him. A shadow loomed in the pool of light, but the boy could not find its origin. Hanging on the back wall were his shackles and he was relieved that he was not in them again. He was restrained by something much worse.
The creature held the boy by his throat, lifting him from the ground. The boy sat on his knees, his hands clawing at the creature's grip. The boy’s own talons, short but sharp, peeled at the creature’s skin from its hands, but it barely noticed.
“Look who finally decided to wake up,” it spat, its breath hot on the boy's skin.
The boy swung his arms out wildly, connecting with the creature's side. It groaned in pain, and tightened its grip on his throat. The boy gasped desperately for air, but he had no strength within him.
“That's enough, Grite. Give my Void a chance to speak.” A man's harsh voice cut through the air, and the boy was released. He watched Grite slink away from him, hissing. The boy watched the creature with disinterest now that the pain had been removed.
“You really are a worthless demon, aren't you?” the man asked, smacking the creature across the face. It was thrown into the wall, and the boy cringed at the shriek it made.
The man stepped forward and grabbed the boy's chin in his thin fingers. Long nails bit into the boy's cheeks, but it was nothing compared to the pain in his stomach and back.
The man studied the boy with merciless eyes, and the boy stared back, no emotion within him. He was not afraid of the man, regardless of his torture, nor could he feel hate for his capture. He couldn't even feel sorry for himself. He simply didn't know how.
The man smiled wickedly at the boy after a moment, his long brown hair falling into his face. His dark green eyes gleamed with malice. It made the boy’s stomach flip, but he couldn't tell why. Is this worry, or fear? Nervousness, anxiety, disgust? What is it? His face twisted up a moment as he struggled to place the feeling, and the man's face shifted as well.
But the confusion faded from the boy quickly and the man's expression sunk. He dropped the boy, and he fell onto his hands.
I can tell what he feels, most of the time. Can't I just copy that? All I feel is pain, and that's not an emotion.
Thinking of the pain made him remember. He glanced down to his bare stomach, allowing his white hair to fall into his eyes. His dark pants were covered in white blood spilling from a small hole in his middle, with raw, healing skin surrounding it. He didn't stab me very deeply this time if it's already healing. That's weird for him.
“Master Crestyss, he was muttering in his sleep again. I heard him, I did, I did,” Grite hissed from his place behind the man.
“Was he?” Crestyss asked, drawing nearer to the boy. He smiled again, dragging his nails across the boy's cheek. They dug in slightly, and the boy felt the heat of his skin stitching itself back together. “What were you saying, my little Void?”
The boy thought back to his dream, trying to remember. All that came to mind was his own question. Did he have a name? He calls me Void. Is that my name? It doesn't sound like a name, but neither does Grite. I guess it's my name. Either way, one less thing to worry about.
“Void, come back to me,” the man snapped, shaking him. “What were you dreaming about? What did you see? What were you saying?”
Void thought again, though he couldn't be bothered to put the effort into it. He closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. Why am I biting myself? Am I nervous, or bored? I really shouldn't hurt myself, Grite does that enough.
Void dropped his head onto his shoulder, his mind wandering. If I can't care, then I can't focus. If I can't focus, then I can't help him, and if I can't do that, I'll never leave. But why do I want to leave? Where did I come from, and why was I brought here? I don't know what they want from me. All I know is this damn cell. What do they expect?
Void opened his eyes and shook his head at Crestyss, his face blank. His eyes started to droop as what once was a burning pain turned into a vague throbbing in his middle. Crestyss sighed, and Void opened his eyes. He expected to be hit and clenched his fists, but the blow never came.
“You are so perfect,” the man crooned, his voice almost loving. Grite hissed again from behind him. “I performed the spell wonderfully, transferring you into the body of a demon. I’m the first to create a Void from a demon, and it went tremendously well! You’ll last as long as I need you, with little maintenance. Demons are much more durable creatures, after all.
“It was a disaster the last time, giving me that disgrace of a demon you see behind me. But he is loyal, regardless of anything I might say or do. And soon you will come to love or fear me as he does. You will obey me, do you understand that, Void? You are nothing more than a vessel that I created for my own purposes. You have no desires of your own, no emotions, because you do not need them. You need only to serve me, as Grite does. You will learn, sooner rather than later.”
Crestyss began pacing in the small cell, Grite hopping anxiously around his feet. “What method will work best? Grite responded well to burning, but it wasn't quite so. . .unwilling. Stabbing has little effect, and I doubt drowning will do much. . .” Crestyss muttered to himself. Void listened to him rattle off varying tortures.
I should be scared, right? I should be terrified. Come on, Void, panic! Care enough to save yourself! He tried yelling at himself, tried to breathe harder and faster to work himself up, but all to no avail.
“Let me, Master, let me! If I can make him scream, then I can make him talk.” Grite tugged on Crestyss' coat, and the man raised his hand to hit the demon away. The creature cringed, but Crestyss paused with his hand raised.
“Perhaps you are right, Grite. Show him what kind of fear he should feel, teach him what it is to be a servant of mine. If you satisfy me now, then I will leave you in charge of his punishment.”
Grite pressed its nose to the ground in a bow, then turned on Void. “A knife, Master, will work best for what I have in mind.”
Grite held its hands up to beg Crestyss. After a moment of thought, the Mage waved his hand, and a thin dagger appeared in the demon's palms from a plume of dark green fire.
Grite cackled as he approached Void. His body recognized the threat in the demon that the man lacked, and responded. He had easily learned to feel fear from the demon’s merciless attacks, and Grite was the only thing that could cause such a reaction within him. The boy's eyes went wide and he backed away. His heart pounded in his chest, and his ears were ringing. I'm afraid. I'm afraid, I'm afraid, I'm afraid already! He tried to yell aloud, but his thoughts never made it past his lips.
Grite lunged and snatched up his arm. It yanked Void onto his stomach, and his freshly healed wound was agitated as he hit the ground. He felt his skin burst beneath him, and the cold blood pooled on the metal floor and sloshed toward the grate.
Grite stomped its foot down on Void's arm, and the boy screamed at the crunch that sounded in his ears. He tried desperately to get away, even looking to Crestyss for help, but the man only grinned sadistically.
Void looked back to the demon pinning him down, the knife raised high above its head, watching as it came down. It felt as though years were passing in that moment as the blade cut into his flesh and white blood covered the demon's face. He turned away at the last second, his own screams feeling like they would burst his eardrums. His limbs spasmed in pain, and he opened his eyes to inspect the damage.
The tips of his fingers on his left hand had been severed, and they rolled along the floor towards the drain in the center of the room. A cold sweat broke out on his face. He would’ve been sick had he been fed at all in the time he’d been captured.
Void stared in horror as the dagger came down again, amputating his whole hand at the wrist. Grite rose from pinning the boy, and Void rolled onto his back. He clutched the stub of his arm to his chest, screaming.
“You've only brought this upon yourself!” Crestyss called over Void's yells of agony. “The sooner you give me what I want, what I need to start my war, the sooner this will all end! It's inside of you, you just have to find it! Give it to me, and this all stops!”
Void wanted to believe him, but the look in the eyes of the demon standing nearby told him otherwise.
Grite towered over him, its smile mirroring that of its master's. It bent down and whispered in Void's ear, “This is for taking everything from me. And I'm only getting started with you. Keep your secrets to yourself as long as you'd like, I don't give a damn. This is my favorite part.”
Grite grabbed his other hand, and wrenched it up into the air. Slowly, it sawed off the tips of Void's fingers, one by one. With each cry of pain that erupted from Void's throat, Grite chuckled under his breath. Its tongue lashed out to clean the blood that splattered onto its face.
Once all of Void’s fingers had been removed, Grite paused. Void opened one eye cautiously, half of him wanting to be ready for the next attack, and the other half too terrified to move.
The blade in the demon's hand was now glowing red, and it pressed the flat of the blade to the bleeding ends of the fingers. Void held back a scream, staring Grite down as he cauterized the wounds. “Don't think I forgot about your talons. You won't be able to grow them back any more. You’ll find that magic is quite effective against bodies like ours.”
Grite released Void's hand, and it fell limply onto the ground. Kicking away the severed fingers as it went, Grite retrieved Void's other hand, and burned the bloody ends of them as well.
The demon dropped the hand onto Void's chest, white blood dripping onto the boy's face. He looked away from it in disgust, and into Grite's hate-filled eyes. He snatched Void's attached hand, and sawed it off with slow, long slices to the wrist.
“I'll bleed out!” Void finally yelled between cuts to his wrist. Grite had reached the bone quickly, and was digging into it with surprising ease for the pace. “If you kill me, you'll never get what you want! You need something from me, or else I'd already be dead!”
“Please. You have a proper demon's body. You can't die that easily, even if you wanted to! I can bring you within inches of your life, and you'd heal in the hour, then I can start all over again,” Grite said happily. It laughed maniacally as it sawed faster with a lapse in its control.
Crestyess stepped beside Grite and placed a hand on its shoulder in warning. Grite froze, Void's hand connected to his arm by only a thin layer of muscle and skin. Void swallowed the bile in his throat and forced himself to look at Crestyss.
“Are you saying that you are ready to tell me what I need?” he asked simply, glaring down at the boy.
Void opened his mouth unsure of what would come out. He remained silent.
Are you okay? a voice said within his head. He stared at the dark ceiling of his cell, then closed his eyes.
Hey, are you okay? the voice asked again, and a pair of bright blue eyes shown in the darkness behind his eyelids.
With the voice clear in his head, Void made his resolve. He opened his eyes and met Crestyss' gaze with all the strength he could muster. The Mage's faded green eyes bore into his own, but he held his ground.
“I have nothing to tell you,” he said, wanting his voice to come out stronger than it did. Despite his decision, he couldn't bring himself to put any courage behind it.
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Crestyss changed. His eyes darkened and the features of his face looked sharper. The corner of his mouth twitched, and Void watched a shadow come over his features.
“Shame. Bu
t you will give in eventually. I've waited this long to get my hands on you, I can wait a little while more for what I need. We'll just have to step things up a notch, try whatever we can think of. Grite, I'll leave this to you.”
Crestyss folded his hands behind his back and turned on his heel towards the door. Void shifted his gaze to the demon smiling down at him, and his stomach churned at the murderous intent in his eyes.
“Yes, Master. I won't let you down,” it said as Crestyss disappeared through the cell door. The barred door slammed, and the demon's face changed instantly.
With a quick movement, Grite ripped Void's hand from his arm, the thin muscle snapping. Void let out a scream coupled with Grite's malicious laughter.
“I've always been curious how durable my body was. Let's test it, shall we?” the demon hissed to itself as he gathered Void's severed hands. It sounded as though it was singing to itself, an eerie song that stuck in Void's mind.
Void pushed himself onto his knees, the bloody stumps of his hands slipping against the slick metal floor. Grite stepped up to him and kicked his side. Void rolled onto the floor, grunting in pain. He stared up at the demon, but his body had become unresponsive again. The fear faded from him though the threat had not gone. Void guessed it was for his own protection that he felt nothing, but his emptiness did not dull the pain.
A voice sounded within him, separate from his own. It sounded far off, and he couldn't make out any words, but the sound of it was enough to warrant a reaction within him. He pushed himself to his feet, raising his arms in front of him offensively.
Grite only laughed at him, waving Void's hands around carelessly. “And what do you think you're going to do, fight back? You've got nothing. No strength, no power, not even fists to hit me with. You're not going to do anything, because you don't care enough to do anything. If you really want to help yourself, you'd just give in and help the Master.”
Surprising both Grite and himself, Void charged at the demon. His feet slid on his blood covering the floor, losing his balance. Grite dodged his assault easily, sticking its foot out to trip Void. He stumbled into the wall, and blood dripped from his nose and a cut in his lip. He turned slowly to face Grite, though he was dazed. He spread his feet apart, positioning himself for a kick.
