The Girl Inside the Assassin

Darkness had a powerful hold upon Arienne. She hung limply from the ceiling secured there by the chain that had been locked around her now purple wrists. Her feet dangled at least a foot from the cold, blood splattered cobblestone floor under her, her arms were pulled above her head uncomfortably, her head lulled forward. To see her, there was no mistaking the torture she had endured.

She was clad in her undergarments, the white satin now stained a sickly crimson from the blood that had run down her body to the floor under her. Her back, sides and front screamed of the agony she had been put through. The lashes upon her exposed pale back were fresh and wept freely. Deep ugly black bruises and angry cuts of differing lengths and depths from various implements covered her deathly pale skin. The usually springy crown of ringlets that engulfed her head, hung limp over her face, the blood from her back dripping lazily to the floor, adding to the black crimson pool of congealed blood there. Her right side was a sheet of purple, that cascaded across her abdomen, the bruising deep. Blood dripped lazily down her left arm from her wrist where the chain had bitten through the skin and her lips were caked with drying blood. The Handler stood in front of Arienne and looked up into her still face, a smile of amusement upon her lips as she put her leather clad hands on her hips. She wasn’t finished with her new toy and she wasn’t about to allow her any rest. She turned to one of the Watchers standing not too far off and nodded. As she did, the Watcher raised her hands, her Rising Tide spell activating with a loud roar of water. A moment later, a cold wash of water was forcefully dumped over Arienne’s limp form, waking her almost instantly. Arienne cried out hoarsely, the painfully cold water aggravating her wounds. Water dripped from her hair and feet, the water having washed most of the blood from her body and the floor. She groaned weakly, struggling to raise her head only to have it fall back, her strength completely drained. She closed her eyes, fighting the tears of pain, humiliation and hatred as they burned at her eyes. The Handler smiled.

“We can’t have you falling asleep on us, now can we? Not now that things are about to get interesting.“, The Handler purred, her leather clad hand moving over Arienne’s bruised and shivering abdomen slowly.

Arienne had lost track of how long this had been going on. She knew it was far longer then at least five days. In that time, the days just melded together. But Arienne had been through this before. Far more then she would have liked. And each time it was the same, each time she was tortured, beaten, starved and deprived of drink. They would do this till her body couldn’t take it anymore and it collapsed upon itself, her mind shutting down to protect her, Discord coming forward to take the place of Arienne. But each time, it took longer. A day or two more then the previous session. Arienne swallowed hard, her dry throat ached and her empty stomach hurt almost as much as her battered body. Already darkness was trying to claim her again. But as the tendrils of unconsciousness tried to drag her into the abyss of unknowing, she could hear the crank to her chains being turned. This was new! She was being lowered to the floor, the movement of the chains causing her wrists, the bruising almost a deep black, to cry out in agony as fresh blood trailed down her arms from the torn flesh. She suddenly noticed she could still see and remembered that she had been able to see this whole time, she hadn’t thought much about it with the beatings she was getting, her mind on the pain being inflicted upon her. The Seekers, usually hungry for any form of magic they could readily consume, would have taken her enchanted earrings by now. A hand came under her chin, lifting her heavy head forcefully. Arienne’s neck screamed in pain, not wanting to move. The Handler looked into Arienne’s glazed eyes, the unshed tears heavy in the glowing light blue orbs. Arienne’s feet now rested upon the wet, cold floor, blood still tacky there. Her arms were still above her head, she had only been lowered enough to allow her to stand instead of hang from the ceiling like she had been for the duration of this torture.

“We didn’t want you to miss the introduction of your new playmate.“, The Handler hissed, grinning nastily at Arienne.

Arienne blinked heavily, she didn’t want the pain to continue, she didn’t want to scream anymore, she didn’t want to bleed anymore, she didn’t want to be broken. For a moment, she considered willingly allowing Discord to come forth but her mind screamed at her that that wasn’t the best solution. She had to be strong, she had to accept these beatings, she had to hold on as much as she could for as long as she could. Even if Discord was brought out in the end, Arienne would let it be known that there was nothing willing about it. Suddenly, a powerfully cold wind washed over Arienne’s dripping wet form and a feeling of evil so dark and consuming filled the room that Arienne’s stomach lurched. If she had been fed, she was sure she would have retched. It was like someone had kicked her in the stomach and was strangling her at the same time, she couldn’t breathe or even swallow. She felt sick, the cold making her very skin ache. The Handler still held her head up, that nasty grin seeming to have found permanent residence upon her face as she observed Arienne’s reaction. Then someone spoke.

“The Lord picked this one especially for the task.“, came the voice.

As this woman spoke, two figures washed into Arienne’s wavering vision. One was a Seeker, clad in her tight leather, her long hair pulled back into that familiar braid that hung to her waist, her face cruel yet beautiful at the same time. But it was the figure beside her that made Arienne’s blood run colder then Winter’s ice. It hung there, like a ghastly spectre, a long, tattered shroud covering it’s form completely with the hood open but hanging so low a face would be hard for anyone to see. It’s arms were longer than normal, hanging at it’s sides almost limply, long, gangly fingers peeking out of the shroud and appearing to be gloved with platemail gauntlets that were crafted in an almost scale like manner, the tips like clawed digits. It had no form under it’s shroud almost like a living shadow. Arienne’s eyes widened ever so slightly in her drained state and her shivering was now only partly from the cold water that had been cast upon her a moment ago.

A Deathseeker.

A “special” Deathseeker.

Almost instantly, Arienne felt the overwhelming fear start to consume Discord. This was the one being that terrified Discord, she had been warned about what one of these beings could do but had never actually seen one, now one was in the room with them and she was in a state of utter terror. Arienne whimpered and struggled to talk, her voice having long gone hoarse from her screaming in agony. If this being terrified Discord so completely, this couldn’t bode well for her. The Handler looked down at Arienne, her grin turning to the sickest leer a person could wear, her harsh eyes glimmering with a special type of glee saved for just such an event as what was going to happen to Arienne very soon.

“You have something we want. We are no longer going to ask for it, we are simply going to come and get it.“, she hissed coldly.

At that, an ear piercing shriek filled the room. Arienne flinched and would have struggled but her body refused to move. It seemed she was the only one that actually heard the Banshee’s wail, her head and ears starting to hurt. Everyone else seemed unaffected. As she watched, the demonic Deathseeker moved in upon her, it’s hands reached out to her. She wanted to scream, to run away but she couldn’t. Discord was frantic at this point, this creature bearing down upon them and there was nothing they could do about it. The Deathseeker moved to Arienne and placed it’s hands on either side of her head. A cold more intense then a blizzard’s heart washed over Arienne’s form in a flash. Then there was darkness.

Rhaedric glared at the two Seekers in the room with him, one a woman in deep crimson leather and the other a man in black. This was his second time seeing a male Seeker as all the Seekers he and Arienne had encountered until now were Females. The male looked alot like his counterpart, pale skin, glowing eyes, a ravenously evil scowl upon his face, his form enroved in skin tight leather and that small club like instrument at his hip. The only differences were his frame was thick and muscular and his hair was a short, wild mass of ebon strands upon his head. But none of this really mattered to Rhaedric. What mattered was the deep hatred he felt for these people, the overwhelming desire to disembowel all of them with his bare hands, a feeling that only intensified over the last week, Arienne’s agonized screams and the feeling he got from her ongoing abuse at the hands of these people fueling his murderous desire. He’d only been successful at enacting his wrath the day Arienne’s torment started.

They had thought him unconscious as he hung from the chains that secured him to his dungeon’s wall. Then something happened to Arienne, he wasn’t sure what but through the Link he shared with her, as soon as the pain took hold of Arienne’s form, he was roused. His eyes flashed open and the concupiscence to murder took over. He knew Arienne was in trouble, he felt her anguish, she needed him. As he tried to move he noticed the chains and, at this time, he was alone in his cell. His eyes were already glowing brightly as he raised his head and looked at the chains securing his arms to the wall. He growled and cast a freezing ice spell upon the links, the chain shattering as the intense cold made it brittle. He turned towards the cell door and, in a thunderous explosion, sent it skittering into the hallway, the Fireball spell tearing it’s hinges from the stone wall. Before anyone really knew what was going on, he was already in the hallway and heading towards where he could sense Arienne. His left hand was engulfed in flame and his right was engulfed in electricity, as he moved through the hallway, he growled, the hatred for whomever was harming Arienne already taking firm hold of him.

As the Guards ran into the hallway, coming to quall the threat, Rhaedric wasted no time dealing with them. His spells quickly turning half of the Guards to smoldering husks or electrified corpses. The glow of his eyes intensified with each spell he cast, his pace never stopping as he steadily made his way down the hallway, the feeling of Arienne’s anguish and his intense love for her fueling him. As he proceeded down the hallway, the remaining Guards backed up, not wanting to meet the same fate as their comrades. Then one stepped forward, through the retreating others. Rhaedric noticed right away that he wasn’t like the others, he was dressed in tight leather, his glowing eyes hard as they fell upon Rhaedric but a smirk upon his lips. Rhaedric narrowed his eyes, gritting his teeth firmly, the smirk on the man’s lips only seeming to make him angrier.

“That’s far enough, Mage. How about you go back to your cell like a good prisoner and don’t make me hurt you.“, the man said evenly.

Rhaedric didn’t know what angered him more...... the man’s words, the man’s being here or the man’s attitude. But Rhaedric’s rage magnified instantly. He raised his hand, already a powerful Fireball being cast at the man, but as soon as the spell left Rhaedric’s hand, it disappeared. Rhaedric growled and raised his other hand, a ball of powerful electricity being sent at the man but it too disappeared. Then it struck Rhaedric, the man’s dress, the glow in his eyes............ He was a Seeker. They consumed magic. The man smirked more as he watched the realization wash over Rhaedric’s face.

“Does this mean you won’t feed me anymore?“, he grinned, moving towards Rhaedric.

Rhaedric stood his ground, his hands balled into tight fists.

“Where is she?!“, Rhaedric demanded.

The Seeker continued towards Rhaedric, a small laugh escaping him.

“Now, you know I won’t tell you that.“, he taunted.

Rhaedric growled and would have launched himself at the man but a sudden small pain in the side of his neck stopped him. He raised his hand quickly, his fingers finding the thin cactus needle that protruded from the flesh there. He pulled it out quickly but already he could feel the effects of the poison that coated the needle, his muscles spasming and a darkness starting to creep into his vision. A Rogue! Rhaedric closed his eyes, his Discharge spell activating instantly. There is a soft groan to his right. Rhaedric opened his already heavy eyes and turned that way. The woman staggered back against the wall, her body trembling from the shock of the spell as her stealth failed, bringing her into full view.

Rhaedric growled louder, his hand rocketing out to grab her by the throat, his grip tight and powerful. His rage ignited all over again as his hand closed around her slender throat and he slammed her back into the wall with such unimaginable force the unmistakable sound of bones breaking was heard. She made an odd noise in her throat, her eyes widening as she felt a sharp pain in her neck, knowing already that her neck had just been broken. Rhaedric turned and threw her limp form towards the Seeker heading towards him. The Seeker, now within arm’s reach, dodged the Rogue’s form, her body crashing hard into the Guards behind the Seeker. Rhaedric, noticing how close the Seeker was, moved to step back but his body was reacting to the poison more, his small outburst upon the Rogue elevating his adrenaline and making his blood pump faster, causing the poison to work faster.

His movements were sluggish and clumsy now. The Seeker’s hands were uncovered now, his gloves hooked in the casement around his waist. Quickly, he reached out, his hands finding Rhaedric’s arms. Instantly, pain coursed through Rhaedric’s form, radiating into his frame even through is shirt. Rhaedric gasped, pain like this never felt before by him, it gripped him firmly and felt like molten lava coursed through his veins and consumed his flesh. He grunted loudly, his eyes closing tightly as he struggled against the pain. Rhaedric tried to pull his hands away but the combination of the poison, the pain and feeling Arienne’s anguish made him weaker. The Seeker grinned, his grip upon Rhaedric’s arms tightening, which seemed to magnify the pain. Rhaedric nearly yelled as he was driven to his knees.

“That’s it. Be a good man and go to sleep.“, The Seeker purred.

Rhaedric opened his eyes but a sudden sharp pain to the back of his head cut off his protest as darkness quickly consumed him.

Now, as Rhaedric glared at his “Guards”, he narrowed his eyes. Arienne’s anguish had been steady for the past week, there were only momentary respites. Either when they changed out the Torturers or had allowed Arienne to pass out he guessed. The Seekers kept his magic drained, making it impossible for him to escape as easily as he had previously. Then suddenly, the feeling left him. Arienne’s anguish came to an abrupt stop. Rhaedric frowned, it was too early in the day for them to change out or for them to let Arienne rest. He suddenly felt sick, his stomach giving a violent lurch. Apprehension, fear then........ nothing. Rhaedric looked up at his restraints, a sudden feeling of urgency washing over him. Arienne needed him and he couldn’t get to her, already the strain of that fact tugged at his heart and his mind.