The Fallen Ones

The stench of rotting flesh and rust filled the air, as they struggled and squirmed within the mechanical prison bolted and welded to their flesh and bones. Every movement and twitch pained them as their flesh was torn. Gasping for air as a door could be heard opening. A middle aged man with a grey beard approached, walking to a bloody work table covered with bloody tools and metal parts. The poor soul then struggled to plea for their life, unable to conjure a single word. As if they had never spoken a single word in their life. The man then put his finger to their mouth while shushing them. Tears rolled down from their eyes and down their bloody cheeks. The man then spoke in a deep calm voice.

“Quiet my child. You shall fall and perish in this mortal shell. However you will arise and be born anew. Yes it will hurt. Yes it will not be easy. But I shall rebuild you.” He then grabbed a large metal mask that resembled that of an old plague doctor mask or that of a bird like beast. He put it upon the face of the person, completing the prison that ensnared them. The mask was then completed with a metal jaw that dangled from the bottom. He then grabbed a tool and proceeded to bolt the mask and jaw into their skull. As blood spewed from their head, the person struggled as their muffled screams filled the empty labyrinth. Finally, the man then spoke in tongues.

“Et effuderunt mortali spiram tuum, et renasci in flore metallum pulchra tamen periculo animae carnisque complexu." Then, a fallen one is born.